Fantastic!!...That'll teach me to wait and wind up distracted before can I get around to posting!!... ...

Aaaamywho...Loved both chapters...This trawl around Chorrol is definately one of my fave sections of the story so far...

Still think there may be trouble ahead for our chums...Jealousy and all that...

Amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*... ...

I'm going to mostly echo what everyone else has said about your posts since I've been absent.

But I have to point out the irony in this juxtaposition:


Followed a short time later by:


Umm, about that breath freshener?

King Coin: I’m glad you enjoyed Darnand’s supplies for Jerric. Close quarters with the Nord can be a trial for Darnand. That Muffle spell is one of my favorites, too. When I saw it in Skyrim, I immediately thought of Jerric with his heavy feet. Thank you, KC!

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I’ll be tense until I get this part posted. Abiene finally gets her say. Whew!

SubRosa: I’m sure Darnand’s introducing him to armpit powder is no accident. Blade of the Medic in the game has the same enchantment as Aerin’s. It’s awesome, but a real pain to keep charged. It costs him a fortune! Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed the winter dinner. I had such a Breton feast planned for you in the last part, but that Darnand wouldn’t pay attention to the food! Argh! Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! I think you may be right about the jealousy... Maybe they’ll get distracted by saving the world, or something. Now that they’re in Chorrol, I don’t want them to leave! Or maybe that’s Abiene taking over again…

haute ecole rider: The other end might need freshening after all of those pickles and cabbage. And tonight he won’t be able to blame it on the dog! It’s great to have you back, haute!


Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric questioned himself the whole way to the guest cottage. Abiene opened the door.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Ten


Abiene stood in the doorway in a thin dressing robe, firelight casting a glow around her. Jerric stepped in and quickly closed the door. Then she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

When his senses were filled with her, she slipped away.

“It’s Heart’s Day and I didn’t get you anything,” Abiene said, blushing. “But there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Me too. Here. I, uh, well I forgot about Heart’s Day too. This was supposed to be one of your birthday presents.” Jerric handed the parcel over and tugged at her robe.

“Candied ginger!” Abiene kissed his throat before opening the jar. “I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger. You had been snacking on your alchemy ingredients!” She placed a piece on his tongue before taking one for herself, closing her eyes with enjoyment.

Jerric took the opportunity to shed his clothing. The cottage was a single room with only one door. All of the windows were covered. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was making Cure Disease potions. Gods, you were on fire. Then that Altmer walked in and nearly caught me up your skirt.” A few steps brought them to the bed. The quilts were already folded back. “I was thinking about Saturalia, though. The way you loved Bertille’s gingerbread guild hall. That must be how you looked when you were a little kid.”

“Mmm...” Abiene had a smile in her voice. Her skin was a dream. “Wait! First I want to look at you.” She yanked on his hair. “Come on, get back up.”

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene laughed, but she didn’t relent. “Now,” she said, squirming and shoving. “Move.”

Jerric stood for inspection, hoping she would be quick. “There are some things you’re not going to like.” He glanced down. “Say, you should start on this side.”

Abiene was already running her hands over the scar across his back. “Who did this?” she demanded.

“Dremora.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I mean who healed it? This is a botched job, Jerric. It’s going to take a lot of work to correct.”

“I did. I was, uh, pressed for time.” He crawled back onto the bed. “Yes, it pains me; yes, I want you to fix it; not now, it can wait.” He decided to leave the nose reconstruction out of this discussion.

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

In an instant she was in his arms again, laughing. He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.

That was his last thought for some time. Eventually he realized he was gazing at the ceiling. Abiene rested at his side. He had to bend his neck to see it, but her face held a look that melted him. Like the bards say. My heart is a flame. He almost laughed.

But this kind of feeling leaves too big a hole behind. Jerric stroked a thumb over her cheek. She had to close those eyes so he could bear it.

He looked around and made himself notice the rest of the cottage’s furnishings. Low dressers, cupboards, bookcases, and luggage stands lined the walls. Tapestries and painted landscapes hung above them. One corner held a chamber stool, wash basin, and a short but deep sitting tub. A screen stood folded to the side. Two chairs were pulled up to the other fireplace with a low table between them. Another table stood under the draped windows, writing materials at the ready. The cottage was cozy, but fine. It would be easy to imagine Abiene here.

His sweat was almost dry on their skin. Abiene rolled away and stretched like a cat, taking time to savor the motion. He knew she would get up to use the wash basin next. Even watching her was a pleasure.

“Are you hungry?” Abiene asked. “I have some things for sandwiches. I brought ale and mead, too.” She walked to the sideboard and poured a goblet of wine.

“Maybe later.”

She soon rejoined him on the bed. Her eyes were thoughtful over the edge of the goblet. He waited while she gathered herself.

Abiene set down the wine. “Do you remember what you told me that night on the beach? I’ve had some time to think since I’ve been here alone. I’m tired of telling lies, and I’m through with all of the hiding. I want to be who I am, and… and never mind about those who don’t like it. Part of who I am is loving you. I know you said no promises, and I’m not asking for any. You make me better, Jerric. Stronger. I’ve been wrong to deny you. I want to look folk in the eye and have them know that I’m yours.”

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”

Abiene sat bolt upright. “What?”

“For your safety! Gods, Abiene! I’m mixed up in things, and I can’t protect you. It’s already started. Folk are dying. Someday they’ll come for you if they learn about us.”

He could tell she believed him, but that wasn’t enough. “What about Darnand?” she demanded. “What about Lildereth? Everyone knows they stand by your side. Are you telling them they can’t be with you? I can protect myself better than you think!” She rose up on her knees, full of fight.

This isn’t one I can win, thought Jerric. He sat up on the bed. “Abiene, there’s no argument. I have to trust that you’ll be careful. Please don’t make this be the last time.”

For a moment he thought she was going to hit him, but then her fists turned into twisting fingers. Anger drained away into embarrassment. “I feel like such an idiot,” she groaned, slumping down onto her haunches. “All that time I was so worried, and now I thought we could finally—”

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”

“Stay the night,” she murmured. “The way I never would. Stay and hold me.”

He didn’t need words to answer.


Jerric woke in the night. Abiene shook his shoulder, frantic. A spell’s watery light surrounded them.

“What is it?” Jerric hissed, reaching for a blade.

“It’s you,” she cried. “It’s you. You’re so much worse. Stendarr’s mercy, Jerric, what’s happening?”

Jerric sank back into the pillows. His frost crackled away in a harmless mist. “I was dreaming,” he guessed. “I don’t remember it.”

“I tried to reach you. I know, I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I think I made it worse. I’m so sorry!”

“I thought you said you can’t read a person’s thoughts.” He realized the sheets were damp with his sweat. His heart was still pounding.

“I can’t, and I wouldn’t intrude like that even if I could. I promise! But I can feel your guilt and sorrow, and your hope is so much stronger. But there’s that part of you I can’t touch. No, I won’t because I’m afraid. It would hurt me, like staring at the sun.”

Her words gave Jerric a cold feeling.

“I saw it when you came back to Anvil, and it’s still there,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Jerric rubbed his eyes. “Akatosh. In the chapel in Kvatch I asked for something, I didn’t even know what. Strength, or will. To keep fighting. I guess he gave it to me, because I’m still going.” Jerric squeezed Abiene’s hands. “That’s what I meant when I said I don’t belong to myself any more. I can’t explain it, but I’m doing what I’m meant to do, for as long as I can. It’s a war, love. We can’t just get used to it, and it’s not going away.”

Abiene’s face looked as pale as first light. “Akatosh… That’s why you close the Gates. It’s not just revenge. You think you can end this.” She pulled her hands away and took a ragged breath.

He watched her struggle for a long moment. There was nothing she could change. Maybe this time she would accept it.

Now her voice sounded small, as if she had somehow diminished. “I want you to say that you’ll come back to me.”

We’ve been over this, thought Jerric. Silence stretched between them.

After time she lay down next to him, curling against his side in the way he wished was more familiar. He fell asleep with tears cooling his shoulder.

“I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger.
This was a nice touch, to flash back to that previous encounter.

Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?
At least he is honest about his... abilities!

So Abiene is finally ready to be an honest woman. Well it's about damn time woman. But I am afraid her timing cannot be worse. Not with the danger Jerric worrying about placing his friends during the last episode, and his need to be secretive. This is not going to go over well...

And finally the realization that Jerric is more than just a regular guy with a lot of luck. At least not anymore. Akatosh's fire is in him. That was a wonderful way of revealing it. Methinks that besides from a mere blessing, our Jerric maybe be an actual dragonborn as well. That would explain a lot.

These two lines had me in hysterics !!!



GAAAAH!!!! Jerric turned down food?

The section from Jerric's nightmare on was powerful and revealing a lot more of what Jerric has been holding back from everyone. There was not just a feeling of destiny here, but a feeling of finalization, mortality. Jerric doesn't think he will survive this, and doesn't want Abiene unprotected when he is gone is the feeling I got from that conversation.

Poor Darnand doesn't stand a chance against the chemistry between these two, but somehow I get the feeling he will eventually have his day.

Very powerful write !!!! Awesome !!!!

Abiene the healer always. Three minutes?!

Interesting about the scar on his neck. I’m glad you took the time to share that with us.

Yikes! She wants him despite the ‘no promises’ warning. Doesn’t it usually end up that way? This isn’t what Jerric had in mind at all! I’m surprised that she took his answer as well as she did.

What?! Jerric cast in his dreams? I never considered that happening! That was a really strong ending for this chapter. It’s so easy to forget Jerric’s burdens when he’s such an easy going guy. He hides all his pain so well that you forget it is there. Touching at the end, Abiene wants him to make a promise he knows he can’t keep, and he doesn’t do it. Amazing!

Wow! This was so powerful and so sad. Testimony to how precious you have made these two characters for all of us.

’He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.’
This was perfectly written!

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”
Arrghh! These two bonking bunnies have finally overcome their fear of commitment. Abiene has committed to Jerric, even as her Nord has committed to Akatosh. Powerful and heartbreaking at the same time. Yet Jerric is right about the danger he exposes Abiene to, and I honor his decision.

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”
*sad sigh* We can hope for their future. After all, I remember when Jerric believed that closing an Oblivion Gate from the inside was tantamount to suicide – yet he did it and survived. Let us hope he can serve as Martin’s vessel and survive whatever Akatosh pours into him as well.

Just a beautiful episode!

...That's some amazing stuff right there, that is...

The first half was funny, flirty and little bit dirteh ...

And then it changed and it was beautiful and sad and scary too...

Wow...Loves me Jerric do I...I may have mentioned... ...

Wow again...

So very Nice One!!!

*Applauds heartily*...

SubRosa: I remember way back in Kvatch you caught the whiff of time dragon brimstone when Jerric was on his knees in the chapel. He still doesn’t understand all of what happened. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: When Jerric turns down a sandwich, you know he’s really troubled! You’re exactly right about Jerric’s thinking on the Abiene situation. Of course, Abiene would skin him alive for using her own high-handed ways on her, if her thinking wasn’t so clouded. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: Jerric wakes up ready for a fight thanks to his years guarding the caravan. That scar on his back was from the Gate he closed on this road trip while Darnand spent three days battling daedra with the Legion and County Kvatch Guard (and developing his inner badass in the process). You’re right to expect more of a fight from Abiene. He thinks they’re done with that discussion (again), while she’s just thinking it over. I’m so glad you pointed out Jerric’s silence at the very end. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! As you pointed out Jerric has been wrong before, and there is a lot he could still hope for. I’m sure you can imagine that this chapter has caused me some anxiety in both the creation and then in letting it go so that the events could happen. Your kind words are so reassuring.

McBadgere: You describe how I see them to a T. And may I mention that your Nol and Cestra are so inspiring. I’m no longer giving up on ideas because I’m afraid they’re too complicated to express. Many thanks, McB!


Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric and Abiene spent their first whole night together. Abiene said she was ready to let the world know that she is his woman. Jerric said no way, too dangerous. She later woke him in a panic while he was having one of his dreams. He explained the Akatosh situation, but did not mention Martin. She finally seemed to get the message.

Also: I hope I got the verb tense right in this very first section. If it’s not clear, I would love some advice about handling these review-without-flashback situations.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Eleven


Jerric strode up the hill toward Great Oak Place, a cold wind teasing his hair. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept after Abiene left for the chapel, but it had been long enough for the fire to die back down. Chorrol’s fashionable districts were sadly lacking in kahve stands and food carts. His best bet for a late breakfast was the guild hall.

He had awakened early to the sight of Abiene stretched out bare on a mat before the newly built fire. No morning sounds came in from the street. As he watched, Abiene rose up on her knees and placed her palms behind her hips. Then she slowly reached back to her heels, lifting her chest and chin toward the ceiling. After a few moments he had to remind himself to breathe.

There was something new in her eyes when she turned to look at him. A want that Jerric knew his body couldn’t answer. He could distract her, though. When she returned to the bed, they didn’t speak of the night before. But this time as he held her, all the things he wouldn’t say kept rising to the top of his mind.

Afterward she had rushed through her preparations for work, fumbling in her haste. Only time for one quick kiss as she raced for the door. “I’m staying overnight at the chapel,” she had told him, “but I’ll be here tomorrow night. It might be late, but I promise I will come.”

She had stepped out into the misty morning, turning to give him a last look before she shut the door. Later his life detection ring had allowed him to exit the cottage unobserved. Now Jerric pressed the key into his palm, remembering the fire’s warm light on her face as she stood with grey dawn behind her. Rather than lifting his spirits, the image haunted him. What had Darnand said the other day? “I am out of sorts.” Jerric knew the feeling.

Great Oak Place was a popular meeting spot even on a chilly morning. A dozen folk in fur-mantled cloaks had gathered in pairs and small groups. Others were moving through the circle. Earana stood alone glaring up at the Mages Guild hall.

Maybe I can get her to leave, thought Jerric. He walked over.

“You’re a bold little thing,” she said as he approached. “Unless you’re taking the job, I’m afraid you’re no use to me. Run along, now.”

An Altmer’s arrogance no longer made an impression on Jerric. Besides, she was a little taller. “You might as well move on,” Jerric told her. “I found your friend up at Cloud Top. He’s dead. I gave the book and all those papers to Teekeeus.”

“What?” Earana shrieked, gaining the attention of several passersby. “You gave him the translations? What were you thinking? You don’t know the power you’ve surrendered! And here I thought one of you mercenaries might actually have a brain!”

Jerric started to turn away. She quickly continued in a more reasonable tone. “All right, all right. We can deal with this. You’ll have to get it back, that’s all. You have access to the Mages Guild, don’t you? You should be able to walk right in, find it, and take it. And if you can’t, then break in. I want it back!”

“Uh, no. I’m not going to do that.”

Earana gave him a smug little smile. She began to gesture, her fingers trailing green mist. “Oh, I think you’ll—”

Jerric struck her across the face with the back of his hand. Her sharp cry was cut off by his fist in her belly. Earana slumped to the ground, heaving for breath.

He found himself surrounded by irritated Chorrol Guardsmen. “I’m done,” Jerric said to them. He held his empty hands out to the sides, palms down. “I’ll go with you.”

“Stop! You violated the law!” The florid Imperial sounded personally affronted. Jerric stood still while he caught up with the situation, grateful that this man’s blade was even slower than his mind.

Earana struggled to her feet in a swirl of healing light. Her angry hiss warned off a would-be helper. Two guards flanked Jerric. The third had his eyes on Earana.

“Let’s go,” said the female guard. They headed toward the castle.

“Break the law on my watch, will you?” the first guard continued.

Jerric ignored him. “I’m Jerric,” he said to the woman.

She gave him a look. “Constable Olivera.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Jerric had an uncomfortable moment at the castle when he realized he lacked sufficient funds. A double-check of his pockets produced a coin purse, not his but familiar. He paid the fine.

Halfway back to Great Oak Place, Lildereth appeared at his side. She wore her fur-lined leathers, and her hair was in a scout’s high braid.

“That was neatly done, sprig.” He handed her purse back as they walked. “I guess you saw.”

“You and trouble,” she said. Her voice sounded tight.

Jerric glanced over. “What’s the problem?”

“I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry.”

He stopped while she stood uphill from him, so she wouldn’t have to bend her neck so much. “Quick enough? What were you going to do, shoot an unarmed high elf in front of three guards and half of the town? Before breakfast?” His stomach grumbled.

Lildereth spoke in a rush. “I could have paralyzed her, or made her soil her dress and run away, or even just stand there and drool. But I didn’t do any of those things.”

“Don’t worry, it was probably just a charm spell. And anyway I might have absorbed it.”

“What if it was a frenzy spell? You would have attacked her and then the guards. I don’t have enough magicka to control that many people. They would have cut you down right in front of me!” Lildereth’s eyes were swimming.

“I did attack her. Well, simple battery. It turned out all right.” Jerric took her cold little hand. “Why are you so upset?”

It was a moment before she got the words out. “It happened too fast!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t expecting it!”

Jerric suppressed his eye roll and began to walk again. “You’re not my guardian elf. I appreciate it, but I was getting out of trouble for a long time before we met. Just forget about Earana. There was no harm done.” He glanced over to make sure she was still there. “And thanks for the loan, sprout.”

Lildereth appeared to have pulled herself together.

“Did you just get into Chorrol?” he asked.

She shot him a look that told him not to bother prying.

He changed the subject. “I’m staying at the Grey Mare. Ulfe’s been sleeping at the guild hall.” He spent the rest of the walk filling in the few days’ news.

Lildereth stayed with him as they searched for Darnand. They found him pulverizing dried lavender sprigs in the basement.

The Breton spoke as soon as he saw them. As usual, he did not bother with conventional greetings. “Jerric, you will recall the spell I mentioned last night. I crafted it for you while I was in the Imperial City. I have finally had the opportunity to write it into a scroll.”

“Did you sneak into the Praxographical Center?” Lildereth demanded at the same time Jerric asked, “How did you manage that?”

Darnand ignored their questions. “It has a mild attack on oneself from the Destruction school combined with a brief boost from the school of Mysticism. I intend for you to absorb your own spell. If my calculations are correct, you will experience a net gain of magicka.”

Jerric and Lildereth exchanged a look. Jerric was pleased to see that for once Lildereth was as dumbfounded as he.

“All right,” said Jerric.

Darnand rose, rubbing his palms together. “Excellent. I will retrieve it.” He dashed away and up the stairs.

As much as Jerric wanted to question, tease, and find some crispy bacon, he had a more pressing concern.

“Listen, elf.”

Lildereth gave him an eyebrow. “Yes, human?”

“If you’re still feeling like a poor bodyguard, there’s something you can do for me. You know my enchanted helm? I need you to get it back. It’s at Weynon Priory, probably in the priory house. There’s a secret room upstairs. Behind a cupboard.”

She snorted. “You got arrested at a priory? That has to be some kind of record.”

“No, I, uh, gave it to one of the brothers. Well, he took it. I want it back. I’ll pay you.”

Lildereth’s face darkened with anger. “What a thing for you to say to me! If I wanted your gold, I would already have it! Shen shi nui!”

Fight or flee, Jerric thought. It doesn’t have to make sense. “How should I know what you want?” he shot back. “Hells, you screwed Darnand and now you won’t touch him. He’s still not right about it. Why did you do that to him?”

“You know what that was about,” she snapped. “It could have been anyone. Don’t tell me you’ve never held on to someone just to change what you’re feeling.”

You have no idea, thought Jerric. “What do you want from him, then?” he asked quickly. “From either of us? Why are you with us?” He felt badly for pushing while she was off balance, but since he wasn’t paralyzed in a puddle of piss, it might be working.

She took a few breaths in the way she had of getting past her anger. “I’ll need your help, like I told you. Someday. And… I don’t want to be alone any more. Like you said that night on the Black Road.” She hugged herself around the middle. Her eyes got huge, but there was no lie in them. “This hunt is taking so long. It’s all that I am now. Sometimes I just want to be my old self for a little while.”

It was as if a wild creature was about to touch his hand. Jerric tried to speak gently. “What are you hunting? What is this about, Lildereth?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not ready. I can’t let you know me this way. I’m sorry, Jerric.”

“I guess you’ll let me know when you need my help. I might not be there for you. You know that, right? You should have picked a different Nord.”

Now he saw just how much he could hurt her. “I’ll get your helm back.” Then in a blink, she was gone.

Darnand trotted down the stairs and spoke as if there had been no interruption. “Here is the scroll. Pay attention when you use it, and you will know the spell. It is quite simple, really.” He looked around. “Where is Lildereth?”

Jerric opened the scroll. See how he likes being ignored, he thought.

Darnand held a hand up in warning. “You should know that—”

“So bay few,” Jerric read aloud.

Flames burst into life around his body. Jerric’s involuntary yelp sucked in a lungful of stinking smoke. White light flashed across his eyes as the fire flickered out. His skin remembered burning an instant after Darnand’s spell cooled it. His friend’s panicked face filled his vision. Jerric took a rasping breath. Then Darnand blinked and skipped backward.

Belatedly, Jerric reached for Darnand’s throat, unable to curse through a fit of coughing. The sight of his own hands stopped him. Shirt cuffs hung loose around his wrists, attached to nothing. The skin of his forearms gleamed bald and smooth. Blades, buckles, coins, and keys jingled against the floor. Cloth slumped around his ankles. He looked down.

“By the Nine,” Darnand breathed from a safe distance.

Jerric stood stunned for a moment. Then he lunged for Darnand.

The brief chase up through the guild hall convinced Jerric of the value of attribute-enhancing magic. He stood outside the locked door of Teekeeus’ bedchamber, palms testing the strength of the wood.

“Breton, you are a dead man!”

“You are not harmed,” Darnand said from inside the chamber. Bravado began to overtake the panic in his voice. “I felt it when I healed you, the damage was slight.”

“I’m as bare as a Bosmer!”

“No lasting harm was done.”

Jerric rested his forehead on the door. “What happened? I know you don’t want to kill me.”

“There was a slight chance you would not absorb the spell.”

Jerric’s fists made the panel shake in its frame. “Slight chance! You mother-humper!”

“Calm yourself! At least the spell worked.”

“What? You—” Jerric punched the door again. “Fire! Why did it have to be fire!”

“With your experience, you would receive more magicka than the cost with destruction magic. I am the most familiar with fire.” There was a brief silence, broken only by the air whistling through Jerric’s teeth. “You did not have anything important in your pockets, did you?”

Sixteen hells, thought Jerric. Abiene’s letters. He pushed a shoulder against the door. It felt like a deadbolt. There must be a turn latch on the inside. “You’d better thank the gods I never learned much Alteration!”

Darnand’s tone sounded reasonable, with a hint of terror. “Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

Jerric looked again. He had to admit the results were astonishing. He stepped back and crossed his smooth arms over his hairless chest. “You can come out now. I’m not mad anymore.”

There was another short silence. “I am all right in here, actually. I have some things I need to do. In this chamber.”

“No, it’s fine. Come on out.”

“In a moment. Or… two.”

Jerric slammed his fists against the door. “I will starve you out like a rat!”

“Your pelt will have grown back by then. Nord.”

“That was my cleanest set of clothing!” Jerric considered his options. A flare might spread out of his control. Where did I leave my axe, he wondered.

“Your drawers deserved a cleansing by fire. But I apologize for the rest.”

“I’m going to go get some breakfast.” Jerric thumped a few steps away, then crept back.

“I can hear you breathing. At least go put on some trousers. The thought of you beating me in your present state is beyond disturbing.”

Jerric reached up and tugged the remains of his shirt from around his neck. A narrow black band showed where the flare had stopped. The letters were a loss too painful to think about.

I am yours, she had written. I am yours.

I should have destroyed them to keep her safe, Jerric thought. I owe Darnand my thanks. Still, I'd like to make him bleed a little first.

Teekeeus walked into the common room, took one look, and turned on his heel.

“Wait!” Jerric called as Teekeeus’ tail whisked back around the corner. “We’re nearly finished. Say, do you have the key?”

What is going on with Lildereth? And Jerric's jealousy over her tumble with Darnand needs to be slapped out of him, ROFL !!! I do think Jerric was out of sorts, so was Darnand and Lildereth. They remind me of siblings, all having a bad day at the same time and bouncing off each other in it.

From the activation of the scroll to the end of the chapter I was in hysterics! Just hope alll those letters got burned up, I'd hate to see anyone find them! Awesome, AWESOME chapter !!!!

“Stop! You violated the law!”
Those guys get so dramatic, don't they? So Jerric is making yet another trip to jail. Although this might be a new one for him. Maybe he could write a guidebook to all of Cyrodiil's lock ups? Still, hard to blame him though. It looks like Earana was going to Charm him.

Looks like Jerric and Darnand are not the only ones out of sorts. Add Lildreth to the list. She seems to be acting awfully overprotective of Jerric all of a sudden. It kind of makes me wonder if she is an undercover agent of the Blades rather than the Mythic Dawn, assigned to watch over Jerric without him knowing? That does not make sense though.

“Where is Lildereth?”
And where is her head at? That was a quite an intriguing argument she had with Jerric, and confusing. Who or what is she hunting?

“Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

“You did not have anything important in your pockets, did you?” Ah! the benefits of the gold standard for currency! Septims are fireproof!

Let me echo mALX's request for more insight on Lildereth soon.

“What are you hunting? What is this about, Lildereth?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not ready. I can’t let you know me this way. I’m sorry, Jerric.”

This makes me think she's got a disease that she needs to cure, and a visit to the chapel is a bit late.

Abiene is a busy woman, up early to the chapel, and then not planning on even leaving.

Jerric’s conflicted. He wants to protect her, but how do you say no to someone like her? Out of sorts indeed.

Earana’s dangerous! Dumbass guards. Definitely worth smacking Earana around though. Loved Jerric's little introduction to the lady guard.


Lildereth! Where the heck has she been? And what the heck is wrong with her? I mean, I’m happy that she has decided to keep traveling with Jerric and Darnand, but she’s acting really weird. Why is she suddenly worried about losing Jerric to some guards?

Well, Darnand’s dealing with his feelings by working his Breton butt off. Productive in some ways, very unproductive in others.

Lildereth, are we ever going to learn what she’s about?

And here’s the best part of the chapter! The spell and the chase! Reasonable with a hint of terror! Where’s my axe! I love these lines!

At least go put on some trousers. The thought of you beating me in your present state is beyond disturbing.”
My favorite by far!

Poor Teekeeus!! We’re nearly finished

Regarding your tenses during Jerric’s recollections, you did very well. Inserting the strategic word ‘had’ at key junctures magically let us know when we were in the past. You then clearly let us know we rejoined the present by slipping in the word ‘now’. This little snippet of yours illustrates perfectly:
‘She had stepped out into the misty morning, turning to give him a last look before she shut the door. Later his life detection ring had allowed him to exit the cottage unobserved. Now Jerric pressed the key into his palm, remembering the fire’s warm light…’

“You’re a bold little thing,” she said as he approached.
Funny, ‘little’ and Jerric are not things one normally associates with each other. That said, I loved how closely you stuck to in-game lines in this scene. What a delightful choice that was, right down to the guard’s ‘Stop! You violated the law!’ Jerric’s response to Earana didn’t surprise – after all, we know how he feels about that green illusion magic.

How cleverly Lildereth ‘rescued’ him with her coin purse.

’It was a moment before she got the words out. “It happened too fast!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t expecting it!”
This left me stunned and excited - for my own elf could have uttered those very words! Perhaps Buffy is not the only wood elven lass who can be short circuited by something rapid and unexpected.

“Listen, elf.”
Lildereth gave him an eyebrow. “Yes, human?”
Oh, I simply loved this!

Aiiieeeyiiyii! As soon as Jerric offered Lildereth money, I ducked in anticipation of her response. I was relieved she took pity on his . . . Nordness and, indeed, did not paralyze him into a puddle of piss.

’Darnand’s tone sounded reasonable, with a hint of terror. “Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

What a wonderful blend of romance, mystery and humor you wove for us in this episode!

...That last section had me in stitches...But for some reason this



Oh, it's just too funny... ...

But yeah, what mALX said about the slapping, he's just spent the night with Abiene and now he's moping over Lildreth again?...

Ah, the desire to slap Earana... ...*Applauds*...

The mystery with Lildreth is brilliant...Looking forward to seeing more of that...

Absolutely amazing stuff...Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

mALX: You’re so right, they were just like siblings pushing to see how far they could go! Jerric and Lildereth are especially still testing each other. Lildereth will spill it soon, I promise. And don’t worry, those letters were burned to ash. Thank you, mALX!

SubRosa: Lildereth definitely had an unsettling arrival in Chorrol. You’re right, she’s no Blades agent. Just a friend who got a bad scare when she imagined Jerric shot down while taking on the Chorrol guard under a hostile spell. Of course you’re right, it was only a Charm spell, but Lil had plenty of time to imagine the worst while she followed Jerric’s little party to the prison. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: A disease, now I wish I had thought of that! She would be out of luck if she lived on the PS3, though. She will soon tell all (well, most), and I’m sure the guys will not think it’s as bad as she’s expecting. Thank you, ghastley!

King Coin: Sorry, I should have specified that Abiene will just be on call overnight at the chapel. She’ll probably get more rest at work than with Jerric! Lildereth has often used a Frenzy spell to get people to fight to the death, so that was what she feared Earana was doing. By the time she could get into position to Calm him, he would probably be lying on a pile of the guards he killed with a bunch of arrows sticking out of his shirt. As Darnand would say, her imagination carried her away for the moment. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: I thought of you and Buffy when Lildereth said those lines! Indeed, Lildereth doesn’t, er, blow her nose without a tactical plan, so a surprise can cause big problems. The trade-off for Jerric’s friendship is exposure, which is Lildereth’s worst nightmare. I also thought of you when Jerric made the horrendous gaffe of offering her payment! As you immediately knew, it would be hard to think of a way to make her more hurt and angry. The Nord was not having his best day. Thank you so much, Acadian!

McBadgere: Oh, Jerric’s feelings for Lildereth are worlds away from his Abiene disaster. Lildereth is a suddenly close friend in a hot little package, a bit like Darnand only less so and far more interesting naked. In some ways he is closer to Darnand and Lildereth than he is to Abiene, since she lacks the context for what happens between people who fight for their lives together. But, things keep changing. Many thanks, McB!


Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric punched Earana and got arrested. Lildereth bailed him out, stealthily of course. Jerric pissed off Lildereth when he asked her to steal his helm for money. Darnand pissed off Jerric by setting him on fire. Abiene’s letters to Jerric were lost in the accident.

The creature in this update would have been very vanilla, but McBadgere’s Androforms inspired me to make it a little bit cooler. Um, even though it doesn’t do much in this update.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Twelve (Naked Again)


Darnand waited in the mages guild reception hall, a pottery mug in his hands. The kahve had long gone cold. Contumeliorus and Alberic’s wife stood close enough to let him appear occupied, yet far enough that he could safely ignore their conversation. Yesterday after Jerric had calmed down and released him from Teekeeus’ bedchamber, they had not found opportunity to converse. Today promised to be similar. There was a matter that needed discussion, if the Nord ever stirred from his rented bed. Perhaps another misadventure had claimed him between the Grey Mare and the guild hall. Darnand considered walking outside to check.

Teekeeus paced back across the chamber, staring at the outer wall as if he could see through it. Earana, Darnand decided. Teekeeus was surely using a spell to watch Great Oak Place. That Altmer had the chapter head still trapped in his hall. Recent events had agitated him further, and his nervousness was spreading through the guild like a contagion.

The Argonian whipped around and darted back into the dining chamber, jerking the draperies closed across his retreating tail. The front door opened. Jerric strolled through, carrying a wave of damp chill with him. His half-laced tunic and wrinkled trousers gave him the look of some cheerful vagabond. Darnand assessed his morning hair in amusement. One might purchase a comb for a Nord, he thought, but one cannot make him use it.

“Good morning,” Jerric called, though three steps brought him across the room. “How does the day greet you?” He plucked the mug from Darnand’s hand, downing half of the contents before Darnand could warn him.

“It is cold,” Darnand said as Jerric choked on the kahve. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Nope.” Jerric handed back the empty mug. “I’m ready.”

“Athragar is occupied in the library. Might we speak for a moment?”

Jerric propped an elbow on the long counter, shifting the pack across his shoulder. “Sure. You have another scroll for me to try? Let me guess, this time you’re going to, what, freeze my balls off? Shock my toenails? Set my head on fire and finish the job?”

Darnand placed the kahve mug on the counter. “I was unable to translate any part of the book while you had me cornered in Teekeeus’ chamber, but I did manage to open it. Some Imperials have appended notes in the margins of one section, presumably at the time the pillar fragment was relocated to Cloud Top. Anyone who performs a simple ritual should receive knowledge of a lightning spell from the pillar. The Imperials termed it “Fingers of the Mountain.” Any mortal would receive the spell, even one who has no training in destruction magic. However, I should think that there is more to the ritual than the notations describe. Otherwise the charred mage would have known to take precautions.”

“What about the papers? Did you figure out what to do?”

Darnand shook his head. “I have heard that the translations were already stolen from Teekeeus. The book remains in his keeping.”

Jerric looked thoughtful for a moment. “So you think the dead fellow wasn’t murdered, he accidentally shocked himself to death with the pillar?”

“That is my conclusion. The Welkynd stone you found on the corpse would suggest one necessary component.” He held up his hand before Jerric could speak. “I have no intention of attempting to gain this spell. It might be an advantage if the spell channeled atmospheric energy rather than a body’s magicka, but such a thing is unlikely. Additionally, any Welkynd stone that we might procure should go to Lildereth. Furthermore—”

Darnand found himself hauled to the basement by the front of his robe. Jerric kicked the door closed and placed him gently on the landing. “Out with it, Breton.”

“I took the notes,” Darnand said quietly, “after Teekeeus checked them last night.”

Jerric let go. “You just lied to me?”

“Teekeeus was eavesdropping from behind the draperies. He would assume that I tried to read the book yesterday, but he does not know who later stole the notes. I cracked the window latch to suggest forced entry. I intended to explain all of this at the earliest opportunity.” Darnand began to feel more annoyed than apologetic. “You did not trust me?”

Now Jerric looked sorry. “Well, you were spouting a bunch of dreck. ‘I shall not seek out that mysterious arcane power.’ Yeah, and I’m an Argonian concubine.”

“There is more to learn from the translations before we might attempt to use the pillar. Someone has already done the work, and it was not Teekeeus. I will admit that I am not comfortable with my actions.” Darnand straightened his robe.

“That other mage thought he knew what to do up at Cloud Top, and he’s a dark stain under a thin layer of rocks right now,” Jerric warned.

“We must be cautious,” Darnand agreed.

Jerric gave him a look. “I mean whoever did the translating could have made mistakes. You’ll need to check their work. It’s wrong, but we might need that book.”

The basement door opened. Athragar poked his head through. “Are you there, lads? Excellent!” He hopped down a few steps and stood polishing his hands together. “Shall we summon something dreadful?”

Yesterday’s efforts had seen their preparations complete. The three of them moved deeper into the basement and set about their final tasks. Athragar disappeared into the summoning chamber. Jerric stripped down and stood still while Darnand swabbed his back with the solution of frost salts. Everything inside the chamber must be purified, including the summoner. Frost salts were specific to this particular ritual.

Darnand’s participation was not essential, but Athragar had welcomed the extra set of hands. Jerric seemed eased by his presence. In this undertaking, an unsettled mind could be as detrimental as an ill-prepared one.

“You should thank me for your deforested state,” Darnand remarked. “Otherwise you might have accidentally summoned a wooly mammoth.” He stepped back to view his work. “Here, I expect you can reach the rest.”

Jerric made quick use of the solution. His nerves became evident while they waited for Athragar to finish.

“You are capable and well prepared,” Darnand assured him.

“I was thinking I would try a storm atronach,” Jerric replied. “Athragar said no. Now I wonder if I can…” He stared at his toes, shaking his head.

Darnand shared his concerns, but there was nothing to be gained by admitting it. “When you have succeeded, we should discuss the possibility of a spell that will allow us to communicate over distances. Skilled summoners can manage it without the aid of enchanted devices. Athragar thinks we should try.”

Jerric looked over in surprise.

“At the College of Winterhold, they teach a ritual that summons atronachs as thralls, persistent in this realm,” Darnand added. He prepared his next statement, in case Jerric was not yet sufficiently distracted.

A slow smile warmed his friend’s face. “Thanks, Darnand. You’re right, I can do this.” His palm thumped on Darnand’s shoulder. “I wish someday we could go to Skyrim.”

Darnand sighed and picked up the frost salt solution.

“Dammit!” said Jerric. He purified his hand again. “I wonder what kind of juice we’ll have to make when we try to summon each other.”

Darnand snorted, and Jerric laughed. The Nord didn’t need to finish his jests any more.

Athragar soon beckoned Jerric into the summoning chamber. Darnand waited outside. Opening a bridge into the Void was a dangerous prospect, and his presence would only invite accidents. He remembered his first contact with the flame atronach he had lured into his circle. Her rage at the confinement left him shaky for days. His daedroth’s bestial mind had been easy to dominate compared to the otherwise weaker flame atronach. Jerric had demonstrated exquisite control over his scamp, but Darnand had no idea how his friend would react to an atronach’s savage intelligence. He silently willed Jerric to succeed.

Athragar backed out into the corridor, mopping the floor with the mixture of dissolved void salts as he went. As he secured the door, Darnand heard Jerric begin his invocation. The Bosmer smiled up at Darnand. “You are right to fear for your friend, but I have not lost a student to a frost atronach in over half a century. I do not think I will lose one today.”

Darnand picked up the buckets. The vapor made his eyes water. “You were with me when I summoned my atronach,” he objected. “You were inside the chamber the entire time.”

Athragar took his arm absently and drew them down the corridor. “You have grown so much in these few years, my lad. You were not ready. I knew you would have tried on your own, had I denied you, and then I would have had a dead student and a rampaging daedra on my hands. I thought that failure would teach you caution, and I wanted to ensure that you survived the lesson. To my surprise, you succeeded. Good for you!” He gave Darnand a merry grin.

Darnand freed his arm. Only a wood elf’s capricious mind could find amusement at a time like this. He wondered what Lildereth was doing.

The two of them stood in the silent corridor, listening to the low rhythm of Jerric’s chanting. There was nothing he could do now for his friend. Darnand turned his mind toward other troubles. The pillar, the Altmer, and the Argonian.

Jerric had secured his recommendation by handing the recovered materials over to Teekeeus. Knocking Earana to the ground and getting arrested for it had merely put his personal stamp on the assignment. Darnand was certain Jerric would never have thought about that pillar again, if not for Darnand’s influence. While his friend seemed to support Darnand’s theft now, his conscience would soon bother him.

Though his principles would make him resist securing it, the Nord was right about possibly needing the book. If the notes did not warn against the kind of danger that could incinerate a person, then someone had made a mistake. It had not been Teekeeus. Darnand had seen enough to know that none of the work was in his hand. He considered the possibility of approaching Earana.

And there lay the problem. Even if he determined that the translations were rightfully hers, he would further betray Teekeeus by seeking her help. The charred remains at Cloud Top justified Teekeeus’ caution, though Darnand exempted himself from any related restrictions. Of course once Jerric’s mind had cleared of its present worries, he would insist that they return the notes to their proper owner. Once a fight was over, Jerric did not hold a grudge. If the work was Earana’s, Darnand would have to choose between deceiving Jerric and disloyalty to Teekeeus.

Your gut knows the answer, Jerric would say. Darnand almost smiled. His concerns lifted immediately.

A commotion arose in the summoning chamber. Darnand leaped for the door, Dispel in one hand and fire in the other. Athragar was a half-step ahead, his own hands glowing pink.

“Wait,” hissed Athragar. “Now he must control it. Be still.”

After an age, the clamor ceased. Darnand nervously began to cast a Detect Life spell.

A knock sounded in their predetermined signal. Athragar dispelled the wards, and Darnand removed the braces.

The door swung open. Jerric stood in a shroud of steam, one forearm braced against the frame. Moisture rolled down from his soaking hair. The cold hit Darnand along with the smell of sweat. His friend stepped to the side.

A crystalline mountain knelt beside the broken circle. Mist rose from the planes of its surface, illuminated by its pale inner light. As he watched, the creature lifted its hands from its thighs with the groan and pop of shifting ice. It brought them together in the traditional Elven gesture of greeting. Darnand’s mind emptied of everything but awe.

“What are you going to call this one?” Athragar murmured. “Twinkle? Snowflake?”

Darnand looked over in time to catch Jerric’s cold smile.

“It says its name is Ishckrihk,” he said.

Huh, did Teekeeus just run away from Jerric? Did Jerric really take the mug and drink it before Darnand could warn him, or did Darnand just choose to be slow? Wow, Darnand is becoming tricky. He just lied for the benefit of someone that a preoccupied mage shouldn’t have even been aware of!

“I wish someday we could go to Skyrim.”
I do too! There’s still much to be done here however.

I like how you portray the atronachs. The flame atronach must have really scared Darnand! I really like Athragar! So cheerful despite talking of dead students, failure, and rampaging daedra!

I’m not entirely sure what Darnand is going to do regarding Earana and the pillar.

Jerric’s Atronach has a name of its own! That’s really cool!

Love what you've done with the "learning to summon" experience. It's so much better than the game's method of just buying it and you instantly know everything. In particular the concept that summoning a Flame Atronach should be harder to learn than summoning a Daedroth. It's too easy to conflate the cost of learning with the cost of casting.

Are we to understand that the Frost Atronach telling Jerric what it's name is, rather than the other way round, indicates that the subduing was a closer thing than he'd like?

So Darnand wants the FotM spell, does he? He'll have even less reason not to, if he learns that the Welkynd stone isn't lost in the process.

I didn't want to mention it, but there was a touch of the College of Winterhold in that scroll Darnand used on Jerric last chapter - now he is mentioning the College, using the ward...wishing they could go to Skyrim popping up suddenly...

Are we seeing the beginnings of Jerric and Darnand moving to Skyrim? [insert sad puppy eyes looking back toward Cyrodiil]


Darnand could be thrown out of the Mages Guild for stealing, the thought instantly popped into my head that the Necrodude he met with in the Imperial City has changed some things about Darnand. So far he has tumbled Lildereth and now stealing, risking his career with the Mages Guild...I feel like we are seeing things we should be noticing but they are so subtle we are letting them slip by unnoticed. Or I'm reading too much into them, ROFL !!!!

Jerric's face and the naming of the Atronach caused me to spray my keyboard and monitor. Why do I envision a bossy female Atronach? ROFL !!!

Awesome Chapter !!!!!! Always Always Awesome Write !!!

Aw hell yeah!!...Jerric...On ma birthday!!!...Oh yeah!!!... ...



*Wails with pure joy*...



As, m'dear, did mine...Although, I will grant that it didn't take long to clear the space, if you know what I mean?... ...

That was an amazing chapter...Loved all the stuff leading up to Jerric's arrival...The revelation that Darnand was stealing stuff and then the whole thing in the basement...Absolutely brilliant...

The idea that the Darnand I thought I knew has been changed by the stuff in Imp City, as mALX said...Weird to see what seemed to be a pretty staid stick-in-the-mud is now stealing and considering betraying friends and the guild...Amazing stuff!!...

The Skyrim references are interesting...You thinking of re-ordering time here? ...I thought that was my schtick!... ...

I absolutely loved this chapter...Thank you for a wonderful birthday present... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

It sounds like Jerric spent the night with someone cuddly and Bretonish, although not Darnand!

I should think that there is more to the ritual than the notations describe. Otherwise the charred mage would have known to take precautions.
Like drinking a resist shock potion for starters... I see Darnand is still interested in the spell. If he knew it cost more to cast than a spell of the same effects that you could make yourself I doubt he would be so interested.

“Shall we summon something dreadful?”
Now that is a way to start a conversation!

So Jerric is stripped down and exfoliating with frost salts? Who is he summoning, Jenna Jameson? Seriously though, it is kind of nice to see all of this effort going into the first time one summons a critter. Presumably it will be the same being every time after that as well. Otherwise all that work would just be too much (and impossible to do in the heat of the moment). It reminds me of Skyrim, and all those encounters we have in the wilderness with a Daedra fighting it out with a mage (who likely summoned it).

The reference to the College of Winterhold was a nice nod to the most recent game in the series, as was the mention of thrallage.

“It says its name is Ishckrihk,”
Sounds like its a Dwemer Daedra to me.

’…they had not found opportunity to converse.’
In your opening paragraph, this choice of wording simply screams out that we are seeing things from Darnand’s perspective here; only he would frame his thoughts with words like that. Testimony to how well you know and portray your characters!

’Jerric propped an elbow on the long counter, shifting the pack across his shoulder.’
I continue to be so impressed by the care and attention you take when crafting/editing your sentences. It would have been so easy and natural to use the word ‘his’ three times in this sentence, but you gracefully avoided such repetition by substituting ‘an’ and ‘the’ when you could. It’s a small thing, but many of us can learn much from the care you take.

’Darnand freed his arm. Only a wood elf’s capricious mind could find amusement at a time like this. He wondered what Lildereth was doing.’

I love Athragar’s summoning party and your amazing description of the frostie! Well done! I think a frostie would be a perfect familiar for our Nord – small, subtle and gentle, just like he is. Just think, a frostie could recharge Jerric’s magic with its spells and those that didn’t get absorbed wouldn’t even hurt (much).

Chorrol will never be the same again after the Three Musketeers (and their Milady deWinter!) get done with it!

I had to laugh at Darnand's new spell for Jerric. Ouch! At least it wasn't a full body wax job! Yikes!

And the Frost Atronach was awesome, right down to the unpronounceable Croatian name!

Where we are: Chorrol. Darnand decided to let Jerric’s conscience be their guide, at least in the matter of the stolen notes. Jerric learned how to summon a frost atronach.

King Coin: If Darnand ever gets serious about pranking Jerric, the Nord will have no chance against him! You're right, Darnand probably wouldn't have noticed Teekeeus listening if he wasn't already paying attention to him. Teekeeus hid not knowing if the approaching life sign was the dreaded Earana or just another tall person (Jerric). I’ve allowed Detect Life to see into other cells in the story, unlike in the game. Thank you, KC! The guys won’t be done with the pillar for some time yet.

ghastley: Exactly, it was a close call between Jerric and the frost atronach. His usual flippant attitude might take some time to resurface. Though it was very tempting to give him an atronach named Twinkle. I’m so glad you like the tweaks to summoning. I went out on a limb a little there with the journeyman/expert business. Thank you, ghastley!

mALX: Don't worry, there is no way these two are going on a Skyrim vacation until AFTER they save the world!! I definitely want to bring hints of the other provinces in, though, since I love it in other stories when Cyrodiil feels like part of an empire rather than a culturally isolated place. You have spotted evidence of Darnand’s shifting loyalties. Not long ago he would have been strictly by the book just like Teekeeus (with exceptions to the rule for himself, of course), but now he has ideas that don’t fit the way the Mages Guild works. Thank you, mALX!

McBadgere: No time reorder here, dragons won’t return to Skyrim for 200 some more years. And if I ever do get around to a Skyrim Jerric story, Winterhold won’t have fallen into the sea yet. (That’s going to be fun! ) Darnand has let himself off the leash, and he’s not sure where the boundaries are. It’s been interesting to see where he goes. Thank you, McB!

SubRosa: I’m glad I didn’t have to try to pronounce “Ishckrihk”! Good thing Jerric has that nimble tongue. You’re right, after this he will summon the same frost atronach the way he summons his scamp. I got some general ideas for the initial ritual from the game book Liminal Bridges. Since the daedric summonings might be somewhat adversarial relationships, I decided the summoner would use a trick and trap approach. That made me think about what could go wrong while fishing in the Void, such as trying for a scamp and accidentally attracting a daedroth. An alchemist would have to be especially careful to check what he had in his pockets. Thus the bare butt beauty treatment. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Thank you so much, Acadian! Your wise counsel led to my habit of leaving an update alone for a day between re-writes, plus another day before the final look. My last-minute edits always make a hash of what was done before. Though sometimes I blame it on background noise. You’re right, the Nord and the ice pile make a good pair, apart from the time they spend wedged together in doorways.

haute ecole rider: I’m sure that most would opt for Aela and Teresa’s gentle spell of depilation rather than Darnand’s! Though the fire probably resurfaced his skin, sort of a TES laser spa treatment. Chorrol has been fun to write. I’ll miss it when they leave! Thank you, haute!





Jerric stood on the guest cottage porch, grinning. Jone’s Shadow had concealed his approach, and his life detection ring assured him that no other shrouded figure had followed. The cottage key was ready in his hand, but unneeded. A lithe pink glow within the cottage had leaped up at the sound of his step. By all the Nine, tonight will be for laughing, thought Jerric. Let the sorrow wait.

Abiene’s life sign bloomed into brilliance as he moved through the door, removing the ring while juggling key, pack, woman, and a large box of Healer’s Boon potions. He closed his eyes as the glow faded, breathing in the green scent from her bath. She smelled like spring on the Gold Coast, standing in new grass at dawn.

“Dew,” said Jerric.

Abiene laughed into his neck. “Do what? Ask anything.”

“Now there’s an invitation to make a man forget all toil and strife.”

“I heard you spent all day toiling in the alchemy lab. After you summoned a frost atronach! I suppose that was the strife. Well done!”

“Yeah, I just did it to impress the girls. How did you find out so soon?”

“I know a little bird who keeps me well informed,” Abiene told him.

“A skinny Breton, you mean. When did Darnand get over to see you? Was it when he went to beg void salts off Athragar? Sly dog. My potions would have been better if he really got some instead of going visiting, just so you know.”

Abiene tilted her head to the side. “It was Dar-Ma. What do you need void salts for? I thought you only had to perform your summoning ritual once.”

“For my potions. I made a batch that restore magicka while they also make your… I mean a person’s magicka return faster. With void salts I could have added an arcane well to increase, uh, the mage’s magicka reserve.” So much for the surprise, he scolded himself. He shifted the box, digging in his pocket. “It was Darnand’s idea. Anyway, before I forget again, this was supposed to be for your birthday. Sorry I didn’t get here in time.” He handed her a small velvet pouch.

“I worked the whole day, you didn’t miss a thing.” Abiene untied the ribbon with an excited little bounce. “A ring! Now I know why you look nervous. Don’t worry, I remember what you said the other night.” She slipped it on her finger and held it out for them to admire. “I feel the same. What’s the enchantment?”

“Weatherward. It will keep you cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Darnand’s idea, I was only thinking how cold you’d be up here in the highlands. He’s the one who said someday you’d move back to Anvil. Or I guess it will work just as well in Leyawiin.”

“Darnand said that? Did he enchant this, too?” Abiene’s smile faltered for a moment, but it was back when she looked up at him. “It’s lovely. The gems match the earrings you gave me! How did you know to choose gold? I rarely wear jewelry.”

Jerric felt quite pleased with himself. “Last summer you wore that little chain around your belly with the dangly thing on it. I remember you’d put it on right before we, you know. I meant to ask you about it, but I kept falling asleep after and then you’d kick me out. Why don’t you wear it anymore? I liked it.”

“Oh, that was my lily charm. It was given to me by a priest of Dibella. Last summer I wasn’t expecting to be with a man, so I hadn’t made my moons potion. After that I was prepared.”

“Well, that’s good to— Wait, what? Who were you expecting to… uh…”

“What’s in the big box?” Abiene asked, all innocence.

Jerric held it behind his back. “No way.”

Abiene laughed. “All right. You know I participate in some of Dibella’s sacraments.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No, I’m not going to tell you about it. Those rites are observed in seclusion for a reason! It’s a temple, not a brothel.”

“Abiene, you’ve got to tell me more than that.” He put down the box.

She reached for him. “I’ll explain this much. Dibella is present in all of the sensual arts. A sculptor or a chef does not need to be beautiful to create pleasing work. It’s the same when I celebrate at the chapel. It’s for the adoration of Dibella, not just our enjoyment. I know that’s hard for you Sanguine types to understand.”

“So you’re saying you’re the artist in this situation.” Jerric gave her a little grind to demonstrate his interest. “See, I’m listening.” He buried his face in her hair.

Abiene’s tone had grown more serious. “For a layperson to join in a sacrament is a tremendous honor as well as an achievement, Jerric. I was trained at the House of Dibella in Leyawiin, years ago. They didn’t choose me for my looks.”

This was too much to think about all at once, especially while he was holding her. “How did they pick you?”

“Simple, even then it was clear I was a healer. I can do more with the body’s energies than knit tissue and cure disease.” She reminded him with a tickle of magicka.

“So one day a priestess just walked up and made a suggestion? I should have spent more time in the temples!”

“Goodness, no. Oh, you’re jesting!” Abiene made him hold his breath for a moment. “It was a colleague of my Papa’s who took an interest in my education. I soon learned he was planning for his own pleasure, but that became a different lesson. He knew I had Mara’s Gift, and what that could mean.”

“You mean a friend of your da’s and you… How old were you? What does Mara’s Gift have to do with Dibella?” Jerric had to stop her hands so that he could pay attention. “What are you talking about, Abiene?”

Worry clouded her expression. “Look, I wouldn’t have… Mara’s Gift is how I heal the way I do. I don’t know why they call it that, I’m no theologian. Everyone born under the Ritual has a chance of developing the way I did, but most don’t have the luxury of study. Mara’s Gift can become the key to a mortal’s energies. The body is just one of the locks. Stendarr’s path lies that way, but so does Dibella’s.” She brushed a curl away from her eyes. “Of course my Papa thinks I spent all that time learning Restoration. It would crush him to know his friend betrayed his trust. That man followed Stendarr, Julianos, and Azura, as well as some others. I’ll never understand Dunmeri religions.” Abiene stood looking up at him. “You’re hurting me, Jerric.”

He let go of her arm. “Are you saying that some dark elf used you right under your da’s nose? This was before you went to the Arcane University, right?”

Abiene frowned. “Just stop. He may have taken liberties, but I was willing. And no, I’m not going to tell you his name. You’d ride straight to Leyawiin and put your fist in his face. Believe me, that’s unnecessary. And anyway, I’m too old for him now.”

“So he still lives in Leyawiin, then? Is he still taking advantage of little girls? What about your sister?”

“Little girls?” Abiene shoved away from him, furious. “Dibella’s Consecrated do not teach erotic arts to children! What has gotten into you? I was sleeping with Vidkun the whole time, too, and you weren’t angry when I told you about him! And my mother found out somehow, and she’d have his stones in a jar if he went near my sister! Anyway, Sidette was born under the Warrior! Why would he take an interest in her?” She punched him on the stomach, he guessed for good measure.

“Whoa, whoa, I guess I got a wrong idea. Gods, Abiene! Let’s go back to the part where we were just happy.”

Abiene’s eyes flooded. Her fingers twisted into a white-knuckled knot.

“Oh, hells,” Jerric groaned. There was no way to turn this tide. Best to just ride it out. “All this comes of too much talk. We should have quit when you said ‘lily.’” He scratched a hand over his head. “Still, I guess we have a lot of ground to cover in just a short time. The loving and the fighting.”

Somehow he had said the right thing. Abiene lifted her chin, blinking the tears away. “You’re right, we’re in Lady Mara’s hands now. No matter what we try to say about it.” She reached out, digging her fingers into his sides. He saw that light back in her face, defying all reason. “Or what you try not to say. I love you, Nord. That’s not something you can protect me from.”

“Abiene…”

She stopped him with a kiss and a sharp tug on his belt. “Anyway, you’re right. I’m finished talking.”

Jerric remembered his newly bald condition at the same time Abiene discovered it. She stepped back with both hands clapped over her mouth, looking every bit as surprised as he expected. “What happened?” she gasped between her fingers.

“Uh,” said Jerric. “That fetcher Darnand… That is, his spell…”

It was hard to see anything but shock in her eyes. He began to get worried.

“It was an accident,” Jerric explained. He dropped his trousers to get it over with. “Look, you might as well—” But then he found himself holding on to the furniture.

Jerric woke some time later in an empty bed. His stomach told him it was nowhere near morning.

Abiene sat before the fire, crowned by golden light. She was occupied with something in her lap. Mending his shirt, he realized. Her blanket had slipped down, baring one shoulder.

I’m leaving soon, Jerric thought. This could be our last night together. Rather than calling her back to bed, he just watched.

It was easy to imagine an infant in her arms. Where would we live, he wondered. He decided it didn’t matter. Contentment brought a vague surprise that he could feel it. It’s not a lie, he told himself. Just a dream.

Abiene bit off the thread and placed his shirt on the low table. She looked over at him and smiled.

Jerric held out his hand.





.

Wow ...That was intense...

Looks like he really does have all the success with women that most real men have... ...

Sooo...Bit of Dunmer style how's yer father in Abiene's past...*Raises eyebrow*...And she seemed such a sweet girl... ...Love the way these characters are still evolving in such a short space of time...

Brilliant chapter...

Looking forward to seeing what comes next...I never know what to expect!... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Oh yeah...



... ...

*

WHEW !!! I am so glad to hear that they will be finishing out the storyline you've started in Cyrodiil !!! I agree, I love the feel of Cyrodiil being a part of the rest of Tamriel too, the bringing up of things in the other provinces.

Jerric should have learned his lesson about talking with Abiene BEFOREHAND - never a good idea. This time the misunderstandings were all his own fault, lol. Jerric jealous is a funny sight, reading sex into every word she utters, ROFL !!

Still, the scene between them was very Jerric and Abiene, but now Jerric is finally letting his heart lead before his other parts.

You have brought the two of them around full circle, what started off with intense heat is warming into love - really Awesome Write !!! (As Always).

I am still fretting Darnand's discovery of it, but maybe if it is love he will accept his defeat. Still, I don't count him out of the equation. He may yet get his day.

Awesome Chapter !!!!


*

Back to Abiene! Jerric’s being more careful this time. Paranoia might just keep him and her alive now that the Mythic Dawn is a threat.

Another birthday present? Didn’t Darnand get her a ring? I must go back and look. If it was, then no wonder she suddenly feels strange.

Abiene wore a belly chain? Some background on her, she wasn’t idle.

The reaction when she finds him hairless!

Aww, what a bitter sweet ending.

She smelled like spring on the Gold Coast, standing in new grass at dawn.
Now that is a wonderfully evocative description.

The explanation of the Lily charm was a good touch. It is nice to see someone thinking of birth control in fiction for a change. Usually we always see people rushing into the sack without a moment's consideration, and somehow conveniently never getting pregnant because of it.

I also enjoyed seeing the depth you put into Abiene's background as a Dibellan, and the situation with her father's friend. It ties in very well with her empathic healing, and her birthsign.

What a perfect ending to a perfectly delightful episode! Jerric and Abiene did indeed cover a lot of ground – lots to make up for, the lovin’ and the fightin’. Their quickly paced natural dialogue was simply fabulous.

Oh, I really agree with SubRosa about the evocative scents Abiene inspires - beautiful! Wonderful touches of her past and glimpses into what makes her tick.

I loved how Jerric woke up and relied on his stomach to assess the time.

”I love you, Nord.”
’It was easy to imagine an infant in her arms.’
Yup, mALX is right. Lust has blossomed into something much deeper.

I should learn to get here before everyone else has said it all.

I'm now wondering how much Abiene understands how Jerric feels about her. And what was in the big box. Did I miss that bit?

I'm with ghastley there - what's in the big box?

Loved this scene, as I have loved every little scene between the two of them. Somehow you keep their relationship interesting and bring us gently along its evolution from a beachside fling to something more profound.

But I have to admit to a niggling concern about Darnand. For some reason I keep thinking about Loki. Hmm.

Where we are: Chorrol. Lildereth has been busy stealing Jerric’s helm from Weynon Priory. Darnand has been busy studying the notes he stole from Teekeeus. Jerric and Abiene had a fight and a rodeo. Abiene offered some tender words. Jerric bit his tongue, but he couldn’t help thinking them.

McBadgere: Thank you so much, McB! It means a lot to know that the evolutions are coming across. We’ll have some more talking next, but then things will happen.

mALX: Poor Jerric does not know what to do about jealousy! I wouldn’t be surprised if he peed a perimeter around the cottage to mark his territory. Thank you so much, mALX! Full circle is what I was going for in several ways.

King Coin: Abiene’s belly chain was a tribute to Aravi’s hottest accessory, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise by mentioning it before! Darnand got Abiene a bracelet, but he enchanted the ring for Jerric to give to her. That’s exactly what was on Abiene’s mind in the moment you pointed out. Thank you, KC!

SubRosa: I’m glad you liked the lily charm. I have a very short Abiene piece in the works that ties together birth control, freedom of religion, social classes, and women’s rights, but I’m not sure if it will ever make it past the rough draft. It’s, hmm, perhaps a little ambitious for a short story. My hope with shedding some light on Abiene’s birthsign and background was to show that while she’s far from ordinary, there are others like her. Also to explain how a gently reared young woman could make one of Sanguine’s favorites blush. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I thought you might enjoy Jerric’s internal clock. It never fails! That thought of Jerric’s that you pointed out was exactly meant to echo the line of Abiene’s. Thank you so much for quoting them together!

ghastley: Abiene would definitely like to hear him say the words. I’m sure that doubt and insecurity will creep in as soon as he’s gone, since she can’t completely trust the memory of a feeling. The big box was full of those Healer’s Boon potions that Jerric was talking about: restore magicka plus fortify willpower. He wanted them to also fortify magicka, but Darnand didn’t get any void salts. I’m trying to pare down the length of my posts a little, and I think I trimmed too much that time! Sorry about the confusion. Thank you, ghastley!

haute ecole rider: You are right to be concerned about Darnand. He admitted that his father’s rules seemed reasonable to him growing up, so he never bothered to question them. Then after some bad behavior he adopted Teekeeus’ code out of respect and gratitude. Now he has tossed that away in favor of Jerric’s conscience, because Jerric has become more important to him. What happens when someone who surpasses Jerric comes along? Darnand may be steering by a good compass, but it’s still not his own. Thank you, haute!

Regarding this update: In this episode’s little game of would-you-rather, Jerric’s remark was sparked by a comment that Glargg made on the official forum, and Darnand’s reply is a tribute to ghastley’s lady orcs’ antics. Of course all resulting crudeness is completely my fault. Thank you both for the inspiration!! Also, reminders: The adventurers need to fill soul gems in order to enchant Jerric’s new armor, and Lildereth still needs more Welkynd stones.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Fourteen


Jerric sat watching Emfrid knock a tap into the end of a cask. His book lay open and neglected on the bar. The smell of roasting pork teased his empty belly. Another hour before it would be ready, she had said. How long ago had that been? He glanced into his tankard. Damn. It had only been a few minutes. He picked up the pitcher to top off his beer.

Darnand’s presence brushed against his mind. Nord. Are you within?

Am I within what? Jerric sent back warily. He wondered if the Breton could tell what he had been thinking about. It wasn’t his fault that Emfrid spent so much time bending over.

Gods, Darnand replied, disgust coloring his mental voice. Jerric laughed as the man himself strode through the door.

“Could you tell what I was thinking?” Jerric asked. He made an inquiring gesture with the pitcher.

Darnand declined with a head shake. He sat on the bar stool at an angle to Jerric, his back toward the door. “Thankfully, no. It still does not work that way. However, your tone conveyed more than I needed to know.” He returned Emfrid’s nod of greeting. “Good evening, Emfrid. Nothing for me, thank you. I will not stay long.”

The publican picked up her bar towel and walked over to wipe down a table.

“How does Ishckrihk speak to you?” Darnand asked, bringing Jerric’s eyes back to his friend. “I meant to ask you this morning, but I did not wish to interrupt Athragar.”

“Yeah. That little fetcher has some tales. I had no idea a person could do half the things he mentioned. I’m glad we caught on to this mind-summoning so quick. Otherwise I guess we’d’ve used up the whole morning in work.” Darnand had one of his patient looks. “Oh, right. Ishckrihk. He doesn’t speak in words the way we do. I get a thought in my head like it’s something I already know, but it’s from him. I’ll have to watch myself while he’s with me. Some of his ideas are pretty bad, so there’s no way they’re mine. But I guess he could learn to trick me.” Darnand looked thoughtful. “Is that what your fire wench does?”

“No,” said Darnand. “She does not attempt to reach me at all. When I first defeated her, I had the sense of infinite rage. Now she simply obeys my commands, and returns to the Void as soon as my spell weakens.”

“I think the ice man would like to stick around. He seems to like it here.” Jerric watched Darnand think for another moment. “Anything on your mind this evening? I’m taking a break from the potion brewing, but I can head back over in a couple of hours if you want to work tonight.” He had missed their campfire talks, and Darnand might be ready to tell some of his own stories while they were in Chorrol.

“I have more recipes for you. One was inspired by your mention of Sinderion’s Elixir of Exploration. It combines nighteye with life detection. I call it Prowler’s Potion.”

“Sounds like it was inspired by a much shorter elf. With a tight little…” Jerric made a gesture.

Darnand ignored it. “Another will benefit you in combat,” he continued. “It will enhance your armor with a shield effect and reflect a degree of physical damage back onto your attacker at the same time it restores your magicka and bodily stamina.”

“Battlemage’s Brew,” Jerric suggested.

“If you will.”

“Go on, I can tell there are more.”

Darnand produced a roll of parchment. He placed it sheepishly on the bar.

“You have got to be jesting,” groaned Jerric, reading the list. “You need to reach your mastery in alchemy as soon as possible. Can we buy you some training? This will take me days!”

“The ingredients will keep on the road,” Darnand pointed out, “and we can afford them.”

“Yeah.” Jerric became more impressed as he looked over the recipes. “I doubt I would ever have come up with these.”

“You have never really tried. You mix your simple magicka potions and rely on a handful of spells for your needs. As soon as you decided to make potions for Abiene, you began demanding rare ingredients. Put your mind to work. You will surprise yourself.”

“I can’t fiddle with vials in the middle of a fight. Though I guess these are for before the fun starts. Anyway, I’d rather put your mind to work.” He gestured with the parchment. “Why don’t they teach these at the guild? They could save folk a ton of coin if more alchemists knew how to… Oh.”

“Indeed. I would ask that you not share these with anyone, apart from Lildereth. She will read any scrap of paper you have, of course, so you might as well show her.”

Jerric closed his book over the parchment. “I guess you’ve had your nose in old books since we parted. Any luck with those,” he glanced around the tavern, “Ayleid translations?”

Darnand hissed a warning.

“Earana isn’t here,” Jerric told him.

“I know. I passed her in Great Oak Place.”

“Did she threaten you?”

“No.” Darnand frowned at the bar. “I confess I almost wish she had done something actionable. Her presence has sown dissent within the guild. The Chorrol chapter is known for flawless operation. It grieves me to see an outsider cause such disruption.”

“It’s also known for the occasional rampaging daedra,” Jerric remarked.

“Admittedly, yes.”

“All I know about leadership comes of following,” said Jerric. “Teekeeus is losing respect, and he won’t be able to earn it back. If he just does nothing, Earana wins. Before long they’ll be calling him ‘Sits-When-He-Pees.’ If they’re not already.”

“Perhaps someone should approach him with a suggestion.” Darnand’s tone was uneasy.

“I’d rather milk a minotaur,” said Jerric. He shot a challenging glance at his friend.

“I should rather kiss an orc,” Darnand declared. He raised his chin in triumph. “On the mouth.”

Jerric laughed. He guessed that Dunmer book had seen some recent use.

“I shall approach Angalmo on the subject,” Darnand continued. “He is our most senior member, and the least likely to ruffle Teekeeus’ spines. I cannot presume to advise a chapter head.”

“Good. Teekeeus needs to grow a pair and deal with this.” Jerric pretended to consider for a moment. “Although, an Argonian’s—”

“Arragh!” Darnand actually covered his ears.

Jerric laughed again, lifting his tankard in victory.

The outside door opened and closed. Ulfe lurched to her feet, ears alert. By the time Jerric wondered who had entered, Lildereth was seated on the stool next to Darnand. She cradled the hound’s great head against her chest, smiling. A bundle landed on the bar with a hollow thunk. It had to be his helm. “I’m not staying,” she called to Emfrid.

“Lildereth,” Darnand and Jerric chorused.

“Do you want me to put that with the rest of your gear?” asked the elf, nodding at the bundle. She crooned to Ulfe.

Jerric took a moment to examine her, at least the few parts that showed around the dog and the bar. She wore her fur-lined cloak over a green tunic. Wind had mussed her hair and reddened that adorable nose. Lildereth gazed back with an angled brow and half smile. She’s not mad any more, Jerric decided. He realized he was grinning. “Thanks.”

“Will you be ready to go tomorrow?” she asked. “I want to leave before dawn or wait until Middas.”

“I can be ready. Darnand already traded for our tarps and trail rations. I guess we’ll travel light without the horses. You’re going to miss that tent, elf.”

Lildereth snorted. “I’m sure you know a Bosmer’s needs better than I, with your years of camping out of a wagon.”

“You’ll be in my furs before we get back,” Jerric laughed. “You’ll see.”

“Furs?” she scoffed. “I heard that you’re as bald as a skinned rabbit.”

Jerric pointed his tankard at Darnand. “Traitor.”

“You use the public bathhouse, Nord,” said the Breton. “This rumor did not originate with me. I prefer not to discuss the incident, either.”

“So, tomorrow, then,” Jerric said to Lildereth. “I guess I’ll head over to the guild hall after dinner so we can pack up. That will give you plenty of time to complain about all the noise my cook pots will make.”

Lildereth’s eyes popped wide open, and her accusing finger jabbed in his direction. She seemed to be choked by a torrent of objections.

“Ha!” crowed Jerric.

Lildereth laughed, too, when she saw that he was teasing. He decided he would hide the kahve pot deep in his pack, just in case.

“I have acquired another magicka gem for you to fill,” Darnand announced.

“You sure you can’t come with us?” Jerric asked. The Breton’s map and scrolls would accompany them, but the whole mage would be more handy.

“An opportunity to explore an Ayleid ruin is not easily dismissed,” said Darnand. “However, I wish to complete my… studies before we leave Chorrol. It will take a day in good weather just to reach Hrotanda Vale. I do not have the time to spare.”

Lildereth placed a hand on Darnand’s forearm. As a look passed between them, the tension eased from Darnand’s shoulders. Jerric felt his eyebrows lift. He hadn’t realized that the Breton was worried.

Jerric cleared his throat. “Yeah, we’ll be all right. I guess she’ll want me to stay on my feet at least long enough to haul her salvage to the shops. I promise not to pass wind on her head, or belch in her ear, or piss on her leg when she’s not looking. Then she might not have to shoot me.”

Darnand’s face showed the pain of memories. Lildereth stared at Jerric.

“Hey, at least now you’re not thinking about my balded stones,” Jerric pointed out. He gave himself a scratch.

The Breton stood. “I expect we will see you soon enough,” he said to Jerric, turning toward the door. “I shall make a plate for you, though I hope we will not be at work long enough for your second dinner.”

Lildereth slid to her feet and followed. “I’ll come with you.” She shot an amused glance back at Jerric.

Ulfe paced along at the elf’s side. Jerric watched until the dog’s feathered tail whisked out the door.

Emfrid walked back into the public room from the small kitchen. Jerric gave her a hopeful look as she passed. She shook her head. The roast was not ready. He sighed, filling his tankard from the pitcher.

The front door opened again, admitting a slim woman. Jerric’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. What was she doing here? He quickly scanned the tavern as she walked over, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Her smile sent heat rushing through him. She took the seat recently vacated by Darnand.

“This isn’t your kind of place, Abiene.”

“You’re here,” she said, taking a sip of his beer.

He couldn’t help grinning when she made a face. “I’m not jesting. Remember what we talked about? This isn’t being careful.” He glanced around the room again. Then he realized that looking uneasy was a good way to attract unwelcome attention.

“I’ve been here before, Jerric. Emfrid is my friend. She works all of the time, so I have to come here to visit her. Isn’t she lovely?” Abiene’s face looked suspiciously innocent.

“You work all the time,” said Jerric. “I’m glad to see you, but what’s going on?”

Now she sounded a little impatient. “You have no idea what I had to go through to get away for just a little while. By the time I could have gotten a message to you, I would have been with another patient. I wasn’t even sure that you would be here!”

“You’re taking a risk.” Jerric’s body cried out for her, but he stilled his hands. Frustration made him want to shout.

“You’re the one who told me to take care of myself. I want you more than I need my dinner. I’m ready for you. Right now, if you like. Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Abiene’s pink cheeks could be blamed on the cold, but not while she wore her Weatherward ring. She wasn’t jesting. Jerric gave the room another nervous glance, shifting on his seat. He leaned in so he could whisper. “You know what that kind of talk does to me. But you’re not going to like it here. The bed is nearly on the floor, and it creaks loud enough to wake the countess.”

Abiene leaned in, too. “Easy. We just won’t use the bed.”

Emfrid walked behind the bar, folding her cloth. The women smiled and clasped each other’s hands in greeting.

“Abiene told me that she knows you from Anvil,” Emfrid said. “Are you two passing secrets?”

Jerric’s mind was as empty as a church on Waking Day.

“He needs a treatment,” Abiene confided. “He was just telling me about it. I can take care of it right now, if you’ll allow healers’ business at your inn.”

“You don’t even need to ask, my friend. Go right ahead.”

“I’d rather work in private, if you don’t mind,” Abiene said.

“Of course, it’s his room as long as he’s paying.” Emfrid shot a curious look at Jerric. “Why didn’t you just go get healed at the chapel?”

“Uh,” said Jerric. He stared at his love in bewilderment. Was she talking about fixing his nose?

“He could if he was in good standing,” Abiene said sweetly. “He’s a friend in need, so I don’t mind coming down here. It’s for the best, anyway. If I don’t treat his rash today, half of Chorrol’s working girls will be scratching tomorrow.”

Emfrid looked like she had just been pinched. Jerric found that his jaw was hanging open. Abiene’s smile was honey-dipped wicked.

She slipped from the stool and took his hand. “Shall we?”

By the time he got the door latched behind them, she had wiggled out of her sleeves and hiked up her skirt.

“Gods, woman,” Jerric muttered, lifting her against the wall. “Why didn’t you just take it off?”

“Splinters,” she gasped, or it might have been, “Winter.” By then he wasn’t really listening.





.

I like the communication spell they've been working on. Will be very handy. Jerric's instant worry revealed his thoughts!

The way Jerric's atronach 'speaks' to him is natural in my opinion. The possibility that it might be able to manipulate Jerric adds a very interesting dynamic. Darnand's relationship with his is much more straight forward. Get the job done and leave as soon as possible.

With the big discussion of potions, I thought of one of Aravi's favorites. It was a potion that combined standard shield with frost shield, and had a minor negative effect that I can't remember. The frost shield ran out a little faster than the standard shield, but while they were both active, it boosted Aravi's armor rating to the cap. I wish I could remember the recipe, all I know is that it involved a potato.

Lildereth reads Jerric's stuff... So she likely knows about his letters from Abiene... and Darnand's letters too... Wow. I think it's safe to say she's clued into this little triangle.

As soon as Darnand said something about a soul gem, I wondered if he acquired a black one somehow. I wouldn't put it past him now.

When Lildereth went with Darnand, I wondered if they were going to shack up somewhere. Darnand would likely be conflicted, being in the same town with Abiene.

*

Jerric had me screaming laughing in this episode! Anyone else may have returned later when told it would be an hour before the stew was ready - not Jerric! He sits at the bar and gives starving looks each time Emfrid passes, making every minute he waits feel like hours as he smells the broth!

The closeness growing between Darnand and Lildereth is finally noticed by a stunned Jerric, his usual picking up on every nuance seems to be clouded in Chorrol (by thoughts of Abiene and the smell of Emfrid's stew cooking, probably).

I caught the reference to Ghastley's Orc immediately, ROFL !!! Loved that hint of a crossover!

Over all the wonderful content, I have to quote this line as my absolute favorite - Jerric is out of his league when dealing with a determined woman:



In one line she ensured Emfrid will never allow Jerric to dip his wick, eliminating probably the only competition she may have had in Chorrol !!! ROFL !!!

I also caught that line about Lildereth reading everything - oh yeah, now we know why Lildereth avoided Jerric and allowed Darnand his day.

In this chapter Jerric reminded me of "Clifford" (the big red dog) - galloomphing around with no other thought than the smell of meat at one end and humping legs on the other - he was hysterical !!!!

Absolutely LOVED this update !!! Awesome Write !!!!


*

Some neat observations on not only the mildly telepathic links between summoner and Daedra, but also on the personalities of the creatures themselves.

“I’d rather milk a minotaur,”
I hear if you milk that minotaur once, you've got a friend for life...

So Lil left with Darnand? Hmm....

And just in time for the Abster to arrive. That's not being very low profile. But she is a big girl, and she can choose to deal with the consequences. If there are any (just because you are paranoid, does not mean everyone really is out to get you after all). Her statement about Jerric's 'rash' and the poor working girls brought a grin. That was not only funny, but quick thinking!

I'm sending Sugar over to visit Darnand and call his bluff!

Did I miss where Jerric agreed to go Welkynd hunting with Lildereth this time? The conversation made it appear pre-arranged, but I don't recall that happening.

"Go on, I can tell there are more.”

Darnand produced a roll of parchment. He placed it sheepishly on the bar.

Another very Darnand moment. And I like the way you contrasted their styles of doing Alchemy. Darnand would make a different potion each time, for the research aspect, and not make as many as Jerric, who wants to actually use them. Hence Jerric's the Master first.

I know we'd just watched Castle, but when did Jerric become Nathan Fillion?.. ...I could so hear him saying all the Jerric lines... ...

Fantastic stuff...



...Loved this, seriously though, I hope thought communication doesn't become reality...Thinking one whole sentence at a time is so difficult!!... ...

I loved the discussion about Ishckrihk...Looking forward to seeing him in a fight...



Yes please!!... ...

It was really fun to see the three of them (Jerric, Darnand and Lildreth) jesting together...Made me laugh muchly...

And then Abiene...Blimey... ... ...

Absolutely loved this chapter...

Amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

‘Some of his ideas are pretty bad, so there’s no way they’re mine.’
Um, Jerric. . . I got news for you. . . .

“Sounds like it was inspired by a much shorter elf. With a tight little…” Jerric made a gesture.’
I just know this remark about Prowler’s Potion was inspired by the Lovely Lildereth, not the Bite-sized Butterfly. Wasn’t it?

‘Jerric took a moment to examine her, at least the few parts that showed around the dog and the bar. She wore her fur-lined cloak over a green tunic. Wind had mussed her hair and reddened that adorable nose. Lildereth gazed back with an angled brow and half smile. She’s not mad any more, Jerric decided. He realized he was grinning.'
I’m with you Jerric! I’m quite sure if I looked up the word ‘adorable’ in the dictionary, there would sit a picture of Lildereth!

What a delightful surprise to see Abiene at the Gray Mare. From the moment she walked in until her splintery gasp at the end, the scene was pure magic!

And so Jerric and Darnand come to Chorrol, where Jerric's mouth gets him into trouble, before his natural charm gets him out of it again. With 10% extra charm now that his body is as bald as a babe's likely to disarm even the most apprehensive of females.

I'd also like to point out that by explaining Jerric's 'complaint,' Abiene probably ensured that ALL of Chorrol won't be eager to touch the new Jerric. Which is good for her, since that means more attention to get to know the bald bal...I'm not going to go there.

Darnand continues to show some growth, but at some point the man has got to gut up and talk to Abiene directly. Better for him to know which zone he's in, if only to free him from any guilt he might have for seeking romance elsewhere. 'Course, as somebody whose seen those sad puppies in real life, I know how tough it'll be for him. But better that he learn to be a hunting dog then a dysfunctional pooch.

The world building exercises continue to impress me. And stay with me. And make me upset that I won't seem original when I flagrantly steal carefully research all of these great ideas. Going to have to try to limit myself, however.

SPEW !!! These two lines in your comment had me rolling!

phew! I'm all caught up! Loving the story so far, you're a very talented writer Grits The way you've brought your characters to life never fails to impress me, I'm especially fond of Lildereth, she's great!

Oh my, so much to catch up on and I'm only at the beginning! Just thought i'd send you a lil' message to let you know I am reading, but is there a summary somewhere that I could read to keep up to date?

This is a story that I savor, that I wish to sip slowly.... But I have been too slow in telling you how much I enjoy it. The only good thing about being away for so long is how much there is to delight in. Some overlap from previous comments, because the Quot-a-Matic missed a few bits.

Chapter 11, 9

“Do you think you could have cast a spell?” Darnand asked. Jerric still couldn’t see him, his gaze seemed stuck to the ceiling.

“I know spells?” I’m alive, Jerric thought. That was the stupidest idea ever.

That mirrors my own experience- both from within the game… and occasionally in real life.

Chapter 11, 10

The golden bear and tree rat fables were simply wonderful- in themselves- and for what they tell us about the three friends.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing your helm?”

Jerric unhooked his helmet and put it on. He drank his first shield potion before she could remind him. “Anything else?”

“Your fly is open,” Lildereth said without looking.

And yes- we simple LOVE Lildereth.

Chapter 11, 11

I ALWAYS hate killing the guard dogs in bandit lairs. It might be worth investing in a spell… There are many careful touches in the scouting and exploration of Fort Strand that demonstrate your storytelling skill.

Redeemer whispered into Jerric’s hand. He thought about the centuries to come that this mer should see after he had gone to dust. I’m taking all of that away, he thought, all of the evil she might do as well as any reparation. Tension coiled in his legs. He wanted to kick her sword within her reach.

Why am I hesitating, Jerric wondered. I won’t trade this mer’s life for my friends.’

It’s not just her life that I’m ending, he finally realized. It’s the hope that I might become what Martin already thinks of me. This strike makes me a murderer. I told Jauffre I don’t have any honor, and now I’m going to make it true.

A long quote, but one that is essential to an understanding of Jerric.

Chapter 11, 12

"You went after Bjalfi like a veteran brawler. Not bad for a man who can barely cut his own meat. What kind of mage jumps a Nord in steel plate armed with an enchanted mace?”

Darnand did not look amused. “One who has reached his limit.”

The mixed feelings of the three companions over the “history” of their next meal are similar to my own…. And they would still not stop me from eating it. A wonderful touch- again.

Chapter 11, 13

Darnand cleared his throat. “How goes the poison training?” he asked.

Lildereth slipped into the room behind Jerric. “I’d sooner teach a boar to sew,” she spat.

Jerric didn’t look at her. “Nothing but rules, this one,” he told the table. “‘Don’t cut yourself! Don’t pull the cork with your teeth! Don’t spill the poison! Don’t touch your face! Quit wiping your fingers on your shirt!’” He realized that the crunching sound was coming from his knuckles.

That was one of those- “glad I set my beverage aside before reading” moments.

Jerric had discovered that while the hound seemed tireless outdoors, under a roof she became almost immobile

Wise dog- sleep whenever you can.

She drew him into the entry hall, holding him at her arms’ length to look at him. Her face told him how he must have changed. “Still forgetting your cloak and hood, I see.” Her chin trembled despite her gentle teasing.

“I can run between the raindrops if it starts again.” How old was I when I first told her that, Jerric wondered, glad he had remembered to brush the sand from his boots. He handed her the wine.

Some of that rain seems to have gotten into my eyes. Pardon me for just a moment.

Chapter 11, 14

She has the strength I admire and the curves I envy, thought Abiene. Is she reminding me that she’s prettier? Yet Lildereth’s face showed only friendship. I’m looking for barbs where they don’t exist, Abiene decided. Not every woman stings like my sister.

You make that look so easy- and yet I know better. Anyone who wants to see how to build realistic characters and relationships should read this story.

Chapter 11, 15

You should have seen me a few hours ago, thought Abiene. Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

Marc leaned close to her ear. “Ah, the lady blushes,” he murmured.

The lady vomits, Abiene thought. His hand on her skin began to turn her stomach.

Perfect. Simply perfect.

And so, too, is the entire description of the ball.

She pressed her lips to his brow and found it somehow both cold and sweaty. Sweet Mother Mara, what a smell, she thought. Even now she wanted nothing more than to lie down beside him.

Beautiful and heartbreaking and true.

Chapter 11, 16

The “hangover cure” was brilliance exemplified. It seems to have come from the school of thought that the medicine will cause one to forget all about the ailment being treated.

Darnand drew closer to the tub. “What did she put in the tea?” he asked suspiciously. “I did not know that Hjordhild was an alchemist.”

Jerric tasted the thick brew. “She put tea in it, you madman.” He took a crunchy bite of the sandwich and washed it down with a scalding sip. Abiene’s hand helped him steady the mug. “Sugared bacon,” he moaned, closing his eyes. “I might need another towel.”

And that was another moment that caused me to laugh loudly enough to startle the kitties.

Carahil’s careful questioning- leading at last to the revelation that it was because of a bet with Felen. Priceless.

Jerric tried to sound happy to see them. “Well met, lads. I’m no one’s master this morning. I’m a cautionary tale. Stay…away…from the whiskey.”

“Mead before liquor, never sicker,” advised the Imperial.

“If it is brown, this one puts it down,” the Khajiit replied solemnly.

“The wisdom of youth,” said Jerric. “I thank you for sharing it.”

And again, you manage to catch me off-guard and outdo yourself at the same time.

Lildereth appeared in the doorway, barefoot and tousled in a knee-length nightdress. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes half-open.

“You look a little rough, mini-mer,” Jerric told her.

Fools and Nords. Or is there a difference?

The chamber was suddenly empty of Bretons. Jerric sat down in the cool water and reached for his sandwich. “Gods save me from the attention of mages,” he muttered.

Yes.

Oh wow, this is incredible Grits!

Just from the first page I can see that you've almost created a new world with all the characters and history of them! I love that. I can't wait to start reading!

As with the others im starting from the beginning I wont clog your thread with out of date comments, unless I have to comment on something I couldn't NOT comment on! haha

BTW Jerrics a cutie

Where we were: County Chorrol. Lildereth returned with Jerric’s enchanted Blades helm (Fire Shield). She and Jerric decided to leave for Hrotanda Vale in the morning. They are hunting for big souls to fuel Darnand’s clandestine enchanting (which will include Jerric’s new mercenary disguise armor), and Lildereth still needs Welkynd stones. Darnand will stay in Chorrol to work on the Fingers of the Mountain notes. He got sidetracked by his enthusiasm for alchemy, resulting in a list of recipes for Jerric to try.

King Coin: Aravi’s potato potion sounds very useful. I’m only just starting to make multi-effect potions in games. You’re right that Darnand would not succumb to a wood elf hookup while right down the street from Abiene. I think it’s safe to say he’s not planning a repeat of his adrenaline-fueled quickie with Lildereth. No matter how much he thinks about it! I read in one of the Greg Keyes books how one character was always peevish after contact with their daedric summoning. That made me think about all of those hostile conjurers with their summonings in the game. Maybe they were all perfectly nice people until they fell under the influence of their own daedra. Well, probably not. Thank you, KC!

mALX: I was rolling over the wick-dipping comment. You’re so right, and Jerric still doesn’t know what hit him. If he won’t let Abiene publicly claim him, she has her ways of dealing with competition! I was happy to show Darnand and Lil passing a message with a look, since it’s usually Darnand and Jerric who do that. I hoped to show that the post-hump tension between them (Darnand and Lildereth) was over. Thank you, mALX! I’m still smiling about Clifford the Big Red Dog!

SubRosa: Thank you, I’m glad you liked the summoning reflections. I’ve been thinking lately about the negative aspects of magic use, and why a mage would choose not to use some spells even if they were able to cast them. You’re right, Abiene is accountable for her potentially risky behavior, and she has given Jerric enough warning not to treat her as if she’s helpless. Of course if she could see what he has seen in the Deadlands, she might give him a break about the overprotectiveness. So far they’re better at forgiving (or distracting) each other than agreeing.

ghastley: I’ve been feeling like I need to move the plot along a little faster, and I left out some in-between scenes in the hope that things like the Hrotanda Vale planning could be inferred. I think that might be a mistake, since it’s coming out patchy and rushed. I’m sorry about that, and thank you very much for mentioning it. I was delighted by your mention of Darnand’s moment. With the Nord’s antics, I sometimes worry that the Breton gets a little lost.

McBadgere: I can see that with Nathan Fillion. Jerric and Castle often sound pleased with themselves! I’m glad you enjoyed the three together, I thought it was time for a little reunion. I am with you on the thought communication! It’s already hard enough making sure what comes out of my mouth is the edited version. Thank you, McB!

Acadian: It’s true, Jerric is guilty of some truly bad ideas. I’m glad you enjoyed Abiene’s scene. I’m dragging my feet again at the prospect of leaving her in Chorrol. But that’s how it goes. I had such fun conspiring with the Nord (and Darnand) over Buffy’s Bosmer in the Buff potion! Thank you, Acadian!

Captain Hammer: I’m sure that the 10% bareness bonus is mitigated by his still-fuzzy shoulders and hair socks. Darn spell didn’t finish the job. Jerric would give Darnand the same advice if he was sniffing after any woman other than Abiene. Welcome back, and I look forward to reading more of Awtwyr’s adventures! Thank you, Hammer!

hazmik: It’s great to have you back, hazmick! And thank you, very much! Lildereth has surprised me many times in this story. I’m glad you like her.

Heather V: Welcome, and I’m glad you’re reading! I’m afraid there’s no summary, but here’s where we are in the game’s questlines. In the Main Quest we paused in the middle of The Path of Dawn. Jerric is looking all over Cyrodiil for the Commentaries Vol. 3 and 4. Jerric and Darnand are pursuing their Mages Guild recommendations. They are presently in Chorrol. Jerric was my first attempt at making a male character in the game, and he turned out way prettier than I expected. Here’s a picture of Jerric in Skyrim, more the way I picture him during the story: bearded (usually), scarred, and older. Thank you, Heather!

treydog: Thank you so much for your wonderful comments! I am especially appreciative of your notice of those small moments in the story that are so important to the character, like Jerric’s “murder” of the sleeping Altmer. As you said, those few paragraphs are (and will continue to be) fundamental to understanding him. It means a lot that you highlighted them. Writing “The Hangover Cure” was a pure joy. Apologies to the kitties.

Regarding this part: I have taken some liberties with Hrotanda Vale. The basic ruin is the same, but the occupants are different. Lildereth would have a much easier time finding Welkynd stones in the game!





Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Fifteen


Jerric walked through the open woodland with peace in his heart. Yesterday’s hike had brought them high up into the hollows north of Chorrol. Morning mist lay over the ground in a white blanket, swirling around Lildereth’s waist in some places. The sun rose behind his right shoulder, sending thick beams of light through the bare branches. His boots made little noise on the carpet of wet leaves, and the elf’s passage was silent. No brush grew here to impede their progress. Everywhere was the sound of rushing creeks and rivulets trickling through unseen passages. The snowpack had begun to melt.

Lildereth spoke, her voice almost a part of the water. “A Bosmeri tribe lives in these hills. Dedicated to Kynareth. They’ll only eat what they can gather.”

Jerric nodded without turning to look at her. He had hoped that she might reveal her intentions while they were out here on their own. Campfire talk often led to confidences. But last night Lildereth had heated some rocks with wood elf magic, pulled the furs over her shoulder, and nestled against his back without a word. This walk through the mist had recaptured that comfortable feeling. He didn’t want to spoil it by letting his eyes wander.

“A year has five seasons by their reckoning,” Lildereth continued. “These weeks of early spring are Duwoh el E, the time of empty bellies.”

Now Jerric risked a glance. His stomach wasn’t even growling yet. Was she teasing?

“We’ll cross at the top of the next hollow,” she said, showing him with a lift of her chin. “Hrotanda Vale is in the far valley. There’s not much left above ground, but there’s a lot to see underneath.”

“Uh huh,” said Jerric, to let her know he was listening.

“So you should have your snack before we get there,” she finished, the corner of her lip twisting up.

“Snack?” he snorted. “Aren’t we on a hunt? I thought whatever parts didn’t fit into the magicka gem we’d roast on a spit. Then we can scrabble around for your Welkynd stones.” Jerric had a disturbing thought. “Wait, what is it that we’re hunting? What kind of gems did Darnand give you?”

Lildereth flipped the end of her braid over her eyes and scowled like a Breton. “I am not a necromancer,” she intoned.

Jerric laughed. He supposed that Lildereth would let him know if a target presented itself. She wore his life detection ring augmented by her spell.

“You made me think of Luco, from Kvatch,” Jerric said. He found himself surprised, but the words kept coming. “He could mimic anyone. Got me into a lot of trouble over the years laughing out loud at the wrong time. I haven’t thought about him since Saturalia. He and his wife just had a baby girl, she would have been… I never went over to see her. They only lived a few streets away. I guess I just didn’t get around to it. I always thought... you know?”

Lildereth nodded. “You haven’t spoken about your friends.”

“Yeah.” They walked in silence while he considered. This was no time to lose himself in darkness, but the memories were there above the sorrow. “I had my cousins, or nieces and nephews really. You know I always lived with family, or with Rhano’s family. And I had some good friends at work. The kind that don’t need much from you. I was luckier than I deserved, with a seat saved at a lot of folks’ tables. But me and Luco and Rudy the Squint, we were pals since before our mamas put us in breeches. And then Therius came along when we were your size, and I was still in school.” He grinned over at Lildereth, and she returned a wistful smile. “I guess that’s why I went to patch things up with Rhano. You don’t get any more friends who knew you back when.”

Jerric knew this was thin ice for both of them, but some need in Lildereth’s face made him reckless. “How old were you when they… when you lost them?” he asked.

Lildereth looked straight ahead, and her expression didn’t change. “About your age, which is barely grown by our way of counting. I could have gone on by myself, but I was in a bad way so I fled to Arenthia. The Imperial couple I told you about. I was no child, but for a while I still needed parents.” Now she turned her eyes on him, and the truth they held took his breath away. Her pain ran as deep as his own, and it was just as lightly covered. “I’ve been alone since then, even when I was with someone. Would you be here with me now, if I had met you… before? That’s how it is with most people. The ones who don’t already have plans aren’t the sort you’d take a long walk with.”

Jerric looked back up through the trees. He knew why the three of them had stuck to one another, but there was more to it than Lildereth was saying. He couldn’t account for the guilt in her expression. Maybe it was over the past, but she wouldn’t be the first who had something he wouldn’t like in mind.

“What’s going to happen when we reach the top of the vale?” he asked, changing the subject.

“We’ll move down quietly. I’ll take a look while you watch the door. Then we’ll make a plan.”

“You think the ruin will be in use?”

Lildereth nodded. “I think it’s likely. It’s a perfect spot for smugglers. That’s who was living there the last time I came through.”

Jerric gave her a look. “Friends of yours?”

“Associates.” She shot one back that told him not to bother. “I didn’t get to see the whole place, but I saw the wards on the inner doors. Against undead. There were empty brackets in some of the chambers, but no Welkynd stones. Some mage has his stash back there guarded by something, I just know it.”

Jerric failed at not sounding skeptical. “Do you think the wards are still there?”

“Twenty years is nothing to an Altmer,” said Lildereth.

“Yeah. It’s even less for a lich.” Comprehension dawned. “You want me to soul trap a lich while you go Welkynd stone picking?”

Lildereth’s eyes grew wide. “A lich? I hope not. I thought ghosts, or perhaps some zombies.”

“This doesn’t sound like one of your plans, elf,” he teased. “Where’s the detailed map? How are we going to deal with the wards? Wait, what about the smugglers?”

That earned him an eyeroll. “Well it is, it’s in my pack, the Breton made scrolls, you may stab the ones who resist my Charm. Any more questions, or can you save it until after I scout?”

“What if they have some contraband? Do you plan to steal their goods, too?”

“No,” Lildereth sighed. “You wouldn’t agree to that.”

They had reached the head of the hollow where their path rose steeply over the ridge. Jerric saved his breath for climbing.

“You know when you Charm someone,” he said at the top.

“Mm hmm.”

“You take away their judgment.” He caught her arm so she would look at him. “You take away who they are.”

Lildereth stopped. She didn’t object to the handling. “I make sure there’s not a fight. If there’s a fight, then we have to take their lives.”

They stood under the trees for a long moment, miles apart.

“All right then,” said Jerric.

They approached the ruin from the north. Lildereth signaled him down in a spot where he could see the trail dropping away over the hillside. Little remained of the Ayleids’ structures. A single arch of white stone rose intact above the trees. Several toppled columns had been partially swallowed by brown grass and soil. One low section of blocks looked like the top of a door lintel. Jerric guessed that the entrance must lie below it.

Lildereth’s gestures indicated the presence of a single life sign. She passed the brass and pearl ring to Jerric so he could take a look.

The enchantment showed him a glow down among the rocks near the entrance. Now that he knew it was there he could see the small figure sitting with its legs stretched out in the sun. He handed the ring back to Lildereth. Their annoyingly slow approach suddenly seemed sensible. He wouldn’t hear a low voice or a damp twig snapping at this distance, but a wood elf might.

Lildereth took only seconds adjusting her gear. She gave him a wink before setting off down the hill. Jerric tried to track her movements, but she was soon lost even among the widely-spaced trees. The Ring of Khajiiti she wore showed her as a wisp of fog, then as a handful of wind-blown leaves.

There’s no wind, Jerric told himself, and the fog burned off an hour ago. He focused his attention, blindly fighting the enchantment. Lildereth’s hooded form appeared crossing the stone frame above the entrance. Jerric’s stomach churned, and a sharp ache began between his eyes. He blinked until she disappeared again.

Jerric dug a strip of deer jerky out of his daypack and settled in for the wait. Looking down through the bare forest he could pick out the pale pink mist of mothwoods beginning to flower in the understory, and higher up the white blossoms of sawnut trees. Sunlight caught patches of bright green moss on the ground. By now the West Weald woodlots would be swimming in pools of bluebells, but here their distinctive round leaves were just beginning to sprout. Jerric saw no signs of animal life. ‘The time of empty bellies’ seemed an apt description for these weeks of early bud and bloom. He wondered if the local Bosmeri supplemented their gathering with the flesh of their own dead. It had seemed a rude thing to ask, especially as a first question.

Lildereth returned, kneeling silently at his side. She took a swig from his waterskin and swished it through her mouth, spitting as she handed the container back. Then she sipped from another skin, filtering the liquid carefully through her teeth. Jerric’s Juice, he realized. She must be low on magicka. He stowed his belongings while she spoke.

“There’s been an event,” she said in her quiet way. “Nine dead inside the ruin, a couple of days ago I’d guess. That’s a Nord kid down there sniffling into her sleeve. Teenager. She didn’t see me. Unarmed, unless you count her stick.”

Jerric gave Lildereth a startled look. Then he realized she meant an actual piece of wood.

“What about the wards?” he asked.

“Still in place, and another back where I didn’t get before. Just the one door in and out of the ruin.” She unrolled her parchment. “Watch, I’ll fill in the map. Don’t bother getting confused, though. I plan for you to keep me alive so I can guide you out. And you might need your whole brain for the parts I haven’t seen yet.”

Lildereth sketched for a few moments.

“Here’s a pit trap, and here’s another,” she told him, indicating the marks. “This gate opens with a push block on the other side, here. I already opened it, but now you know. The whole place has that eerie fungus glow and blue light from glowstones, but I have no problem with you using a torch until we get to this door. There’s a lot on the floor that you won’t want to step in. They must have just thrown their slop in this direction when the weather was bad, and that’s right where we want to go.”

Jerric watched, listened, and picked his teeth.

“Rats have been at the dead, and you should expect the usual mudcrabs, snakes, and spiders,” she continued. “The ceilings are high in these sections, so there’s some mist but you won’t want for air. I saw a ghost in this small chamber, but it didn’t notice me. It may have just been a shade. There was a fresh body in there.”

“All right,” said Jerric when he guessed that she was through. He stood up and stretched. “I’m going to take a piss. Then let’s go talk to that kid.”

*


Powerful disagreement in outlooks ending in an agreement that doesn't change either - what a nice balance of personalities you reached here!



LOVED your version of how the ring works! So much closer to the word chameleon than simple invisbility would be! Love how your mind works!



SPEW !!! Jerric's mind runs continuously on two things (food and sex), it always takes him a second to get past these before his thought process kicks in and starts working, ROFL !!!

Oh, I don't like the sound of this place at all! URK! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!!!!! I feel like I'm hanging on a cliff till they get out of there safely!

*

You started us with a wonderful description of the mountain forest in early spring. Followed by a fascinating bit of Bosmer culture.

Rudy the Squint? Sounds like exactly the kind of person Jerric would roll with. It makes me think of Sid the Squid, from the old animated Batman series.

“I make sure there’s not a fight. If there’s a fight, then we have to take their lives.”
This was exactly the right argument to make in response to Jerric's quite correct observation about Charming people.

Hmm, now what might the Mystery of Hrotunda Vale be? It looks like someone, or something, new decided to move in? Or did that teenage Nord accidentally kill everyone after being bitten by a magical <insert creature name here> and losing control of her new superpowers?

From the opening magic of your description of the forest with Jerric and the silent elf who traveled with him at sunrise, to the hints of Bosmeri culture and Lildereth’s background, this episode was pure delight.

I loved the ‘charming’ discussion they had. It so perfectly serves to highlight the differences between these two. Jerric, with his ample muscle and steel, views illusion as unethical; Lildereth, with her frail physique and diminutive stature, sees it as necessary for her own survival. I imagine the mountain of a man and tiny mystic archer could have a similar debate regarding the merits of standing to boldly declare yourself to a likely foe versus preemptively striking from the shadows while hoping you are making the right choice.

So much goodness in this episode!

If I recall correctly, Jerric's view of Illusion spells is colored by his being on the receiving end of one, so I'm not surprised he doesn't like it.

I think Sugar would offer her opponent the Illusion spell or the Axe to be hit with, and let them decide.

mALX already caught the best part, with the description of how chameleon looks when Lil does it.

I love this opening. The mountains around Chorrol were always my favorite.

Jerric had the same thought I did last chapter! What kind of gems did Darnand give you?

So much for getting Lildereth to spill much, he’s doing the spilling. Give a little, take a little maybe? Yes, that worked a little.

The ones who don’t already have plans aren’t the sort you’d take a long walk with.
I really like that line.

Jerric’s issues with illusion magic are fascinating. Especially after the incident at the Gold Coast. That was amazing!

Yikes, sounds like an adventuring party gone wrong in there. Jerric waiting for Lildereth, observing the trees and plants, and thinking of other places was nicely done.