I thoroughly enjoyed the two most recent installments of the Jerric-Darnand-Lilderith saga. The little wood elf endears herself to me more and more just by being herself. And of course the two men are a riot!

I loved that smarmy comment of Alga's - after what Lil told Petrine, I have no question what Petrine told Alga! "Leave my man alone!" Indeed!

Bruma had specialized in Necromancy! How wonderfully clever. I like to think of Kvatch’s specialty as Alchemy and this answers a wonderful question regarding more guilds than schools.

You did a wonderful job with Jeanne. In fact, I enjoyed the way you worked in so many of the Bruma guild little quirks. Like this:
‘Volanaro made a face. “It’s a little too rugged up here for me. Add a few hairs to a Nord, and you’ve got a bear!” He laughed.’

“I’m Lildereth,” he heard the elf say. “Please ignore him. He has received many blows to the head.”

Ahah, so the boys have their recommendation tasks. Hmm, Jeanne is more astute than she seems, for inventorying is perfect for Darnand (to his chagrin, no doubt). And if Jerric’s a great choice to ferret out the butt of a joke.

‘Jerric and Ulfe exchanged a look as Alga marched away. “What the hells? ‘Art of Speech’ my furry backside. That woman is touched by Sheogorath.” He shook his head. “Let’s go inside.”
- - Wow, that was quite the encounter with the Artist of Speechcraft. I agree with Jerric and Ulfe!

Hey, chapters that are mostly talking are just as good as the one that aren't. If it helps build character or further the story, then it is welcome.

So it was fast and easy, this meeting with the Altmer. Jerric just had to follow the journeyman


I had a laugh out of this one. Hilarious. If I ever see Jerric at the Goblet, I'll make sure to point at is nose.

So before necromancy was banned by the air-heads of the university, it was actually a school in Bruma. Wow. Interesting. Why do I have the growing feeling that they're going to screw something up? I trust Lildereth will keep them in line, or at least try to until they get their recommendations.

Previously: At the Bruma Mages Guild Jerric was given the task of making a missing guild member reappear. Darnand was assigned to inventory. Jerric and Ulfe headed next door to the Fighters Guild where Jerric plans to stay while in Bruma. Alga stopped them in the street to inform a puzzled Jerric of her and Honmund’s relationship status.


ghastley: Thank you for mentioning that Dwemeris remark! When running jokes take a week or more to pop up again, I worry that they’re missed. I’m glad you’re enjoying my take on Jeanne. Like you I see her as excelling at administration and politics rather than magic, given her position and reputation in the game. Plus the Bruma chapter is hardly the jewel in the Guild’s crown, so I could easily picture someone shuffling her out of their way to the far north with a sigh of relief. Thank you, ghastley!

King Coin: You got exactly what was on Lil’s mind when she covered Jerric’s awkwardness with a lie he’d have to maintain. When she said ‘He’s not getting laid in Bruma’ about Darnand, she meant you’re not getting any Nord chick action to Jerric! Thank you, KC!

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! It was fun to show Jerric putting his boot in his mouth with the cool and elegant Selena. We mostly see him interacting with people who like him, but not everyone does! He’s a southern Nord in a town where the Imperials don’t like Nords and the Nords don’t generally care for southerners, so he’s way out of his element. Plus he couldn’t concentrate in proximity to Alga’s prodigious bosom after days on the road. He’ll eventually get what she was telling him.

haute ecole rider: Yep, you got what was on Alga’s mind when she tracked down the fresh meat Jerric. The light won’t dawn for him until this segment, though. I’m glad you’re enjoying Lildereth. She seems especially elfin to me in this town of big Nords. Thank you, haute!

Acadian: Thank you for your endorsement of Jerric’s world’s Jeanne. She is as you suspect more astute than her lame scamp and rabid politicking make her seem. Jerric’s reference to Darnand’s past guild shenanigans was his sideways speculation that Jeanne might not be a moron. After all I expect that Darnand will not get into trouble doing inventory. Thank you, Acadian!

Darkness Eternal: I’m glad you liked Volanaro’s line. He strikes me as someone who would always have a witticism ready. Jerric’s poor nose is inspired by a real-life nose I know. It’s been broken so many times there’s hardly any of it left! Thank you, DE!


Next: Jerric heads out to introduce himself and drop off his stuff at the Bruma Fighters Guild.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Four

Fighters Guild halls must smell the same in any county, Jerric decided. He held the door open for Ulfe while he stomped snow from his boots.

Inside an Orsimer and an Argonian stood talking in a dining area large enough to host a scurling competition. A sunken practice floor of about the same size was empty but for a scattering of dark bottles.

Ulfe trotted straight to the fireplace beyond the dining tables. She flopped down and rolled onto her side with a groan.

The orc called out to the air as she started over toward Jerric. “Nunzio! Hey, Nunzio!” Her disgusted snort produced a fine spray of something. “Ah, fetch it. Fetch him, the fetcher. What do you want?” The last was directed at Jerric.

“Work and lodging.” Jerric dropped the packs and braced himself in case she tried to take him to the floor in some kind of Wrothgarian greeting ritual. “I’m Kjellingsson of Anvil. Apprentice.”

She put her fists on hips and looked him over. “Bumph gra-Gash, Protector. The lizard’s Right-Wind. You can find a bed down in the barracks.” She nodded to indicate a doorway beyond the dining area. “Kitchen’s around back. Make yourself at home. Asgerd will check the rolls when she gets back. If you lied to me, I’ll eat your heart with a side of balls.”

Jerric hung up his cloak and dropped his gauntlets on a battered side table while she spoke. “Are you asking for a beating or a date?”

Bumph tipped her head back and made a grimace that Jerric took as a smile. “Try me.” She got him out of his armor and into the sparring area before he had time to think.

Jerric had added some of his blood to the stains on the floor mats by the time the front door opened again, admitting a group of fighters. They entered the hall with loud feet, clanking metal, and voices raised far more than necessary. Jerric recognized the signs of guild members returning from a successful mission.

Bumph let go of Jerric and walked over to hear the first report. Jerric scrambled up and retrieved his shirt.

As hoods and cloaks were hung up Jerric noticed that Nords and Imperials made the bulk of the group. His attention was drawn to a square-jawed blonde when she pulled off her helmet and turned it to examine the back. “Nord is lucky she was only struck upon the head,” a Khajiit told her, and she laughed.

The woman’s hair was cut straight across her brow and around her head at chin level. It stuck in strings to her forehead and wide cheekbones. Her surcoat and greaves were decorated with blood, and a fine spray of dark droplets had dried across her nose. She looked broad at the shoulder and long in the legs, if Jerric could judge by the look of her armor. A sword hilt was visible over one shoulder.

Jerric’s eyes returned to her face just before she finished looking him over. Her clear blue eyes made him think of the West Weald sky in autumn just after sunrise. When her appraising glance met his, she gave him a wink.

“I’m Kjestrid,” said the woman.

Jerric grinned. “Kjellingsson of Anvil. Pleased to meet you.”

“Petrine said your nose looked like a mining accident. She wasn’t jesting.”

Jerric began to feel nostalgic about Imperial manners. “You Brumese are a forward bunch. Some woman walked up and told me she was spoken for right out in the street. What’s that about? You people never met a Gold Coast Nord before?”

Kjestrid laughed from her belly. “That must have been Alga. Honmund is prone to stray. I’m sure she’s also had a word with your boss by now. Don’t take it personal. That’s just her way.”

“Yeah, her ‘Art of Speech.’” Kjestrid’s meaning suddenly became clear to Jerric. Lildereth and her mouth. Darnand’s not the only one who’s not getting laid in Bruma. I’ll kill her.

“Something like that,” said Kjestrid.

“Well anyway, I’m staying here while I’m in town.”

“Not with your friends?” Kjestrid still smiled as she turned away. “I don’t live here, but you can confide your troubles to Bumph all night if you like. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

The fighters dispersed in the manner of folk who were eager to get on with the drinking. From their packs Jerric guessed that they had been away at least overnight. He decided to follow their lead and get his own gear organized.

Down in the barracks Jerric tossed his bedroll onto a bare mattress and stowed his packs in the adjacent cupboard. An image of Darnand and Lildereth reclining on featherbeds and silken pillows passed through his mind. Huh, he thought, denying his regret. Soft-bellied mages.

The smithy was in the lowest level. Jerric unloaded his equipment onto a work bench between Kjestrid and Right-Wind. Most of his gear only needed routine care. He picked up Atronach’s Redeemer and approached the smith.

“Loredas,” the Nord told him after a single glance.

“I’m Kjellingsson of Anvil,” said Jerric.

“I’m Jaan of the basement. And don’t try to sweet-talk me. You’ll get your blade back on Loredas.”

Jerric looked around to see if there was someone behind him, but the man was addressing him. “That’s in two days! I need my sword so I can work.”

Jaan snorted. “Heartlanders. You think you’re the only one around here who swings a bit of metal? Everyone here wants to work. Go train or drink or fight, Nunzio said you can take a punch. Or sit on your thumb for all I care. Loredas.”

Jerric wondered when the porter had found time to describe his thrashing to this basement-dweller. “Is there another place I can go in Bruma?”

Jaan pointed his hammer at the door. “Sure. Go hump yourself.”

Jerric left his blade with Jaan and returned to his station. “What the hells is he going to do with it for two days,” he muttered, hanging his armor on the rack.

Kjestrid was busy with rags and oil. She didn’t spare him a glance, but there was a smile in her voice. “I don’t think Jaan has ever been so kind to an Apprentice,” she remarked.

Right-Wind let out a dry, hacking sound. Jerric realized it was his laugh. “They did not even throw anything,” the Argonian said. “They must like you.”

Jerric finished cleaning his armor before the others. Road grit was easier to remove than gouts of blood, and his empty stomach drove him to rapid work. He packed up the supplies and left his gear arranged ready for use.

The smell of roasting meat drew him up to the main level. He found the hearth empty. Nunzio was picking up mead bottles in the training area.

“Hey, have you seen my dog?” Jerric called.

“Nope. Ask Bugshat. I saw him down here a little while ago. He might know.”

Jerric snorted. “Bugshat? Are you jesting?”

“Bugshat’s the cook. Yeah, he’s an orc. No, I’m not jesting.”

She probably followed her nose to the kitchen, Jerric thought. The aroma got stronger as he passed down a corridor. Then another idea began to form in his mind. With a shock, he identified the smell. That’s roasting dog meat!

Jerric took the last steps in a single leap and barreled into the kitchen. A mountain of Orsimer stood slicing onions at a long work table. An Imperial lad scrubbed potatoes in a stone sink. Another Imperial straightened up from where he had been peering into a wall oven. Jerric could see a side of meat roasting there.

“What have you fetchers done with my dog?” he bellowed.

The orc put down his knife and picked up a cleaver.

The Imperial lad pointed with a shaking potato. “Th- There, she is. I hope it’s all right, I gave her a bone.”

Ulfe lay at the kitchen’s far end in front of the bread ovens. She had her mouth on what Jerric guessed might be a mammoth femur, but it would take a larger beast than she to actually chew it. Ulfe tilted her brows in a doggy smile when she saw him. Her tail thumped the flagstones.

The young Imperial’s voice still wavered. “I just let her have it for a while. I’ll need it back to get at the marrow.”

Jerric knelt down and rubbed Ulfe’s distended belly. “What else did you give her?”

“Dog food,” rumbled the orc.

Jerric glared at him. “Fattening her up?”

“That one’s too stringy.” The orc went back to slicing onions. “I’ve met some numb-headed Nords, but none fool enough to think I had their hound on the fire.” He jerked his head at the other Imperial. “Vito, get this man a sandwich. He’s had a shock. Tonio, no one’s murdered you yet. You’re going to have to finish those potatoes.”

Vito produced a slab of mutton layered with cheese and mustard between two slices of brown bread. He placed it on the bare tabletop along with a bottle of ale.

Jerric made a silent toast to them all and tucked into his snack. “I’m Kjellingsson,” he said between bites.

“Bugshat.” The orc gave him a look. “Go ahead, I won’t take offense. You should hear what your name sounds like in the Orsimer tongue.”

A moment later Jerric had another realization. “Are you going to cook with the bone my dog is chewing on?”

“Don’t worry, she won’t be able to finish it.” Bugshat’s lip curled up in amusement.

Jerric saluted with his sandwich. Here was a kitchen he would not mind working in.

He gave Ulfe’s belly another rub before he set off in search of the chapter head. He found her office on the upper level.

Asgerd turned out to be a Nord woman of middle age with deep shadows under her eyes. Her steel-grey hair was cropped in the manner of one who wears a mail hood. Jerric presented himself in front of her desk.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to a chair against the far wall.

Jerric dragged it over and sat down.

Asgerd got straight to the point. “Azzan reports that you’re a battlemage. Jerric.”

Jerric tucked his fingers under his thighs to keep from pulling his hair out. “Yeah. Uh…”

“I’m an associate of your uncle,” Asgerd said. She waited while Jerric unraveled the code.

Jauffre. He let out a gust of breath. “Yeah.”

“He’d like to see you while you’re in town.” Asgerd shifted some sheets of parchment. “I could use you on a contract as well. I have something that will suit. Have Right-Wind put you through a workout. He’s my blade trainer. I’ll give you an assignment when he’s through with you. There’s no need, but it’s customary.”

Jerric nodded. He guessed that the rest of the guild members had no knowledge of his situation.

“We’ve done some training with the Mages Guild in Anvil,” Jerric said. “My partner Darnand Penoit is a summoner. Between the two of us we could help you train against a few varieties of daedra.”

“Azzan has shared your idea. Our local Mages Guild chapter is… not responsive. I haven’t received a reply from Frasoric.”

Probably not one of those friends in high places, Jerric thought. “I don’t know much about the Bruma guild. I can ask around and see what folk there can do. If they’re University trained they would have at least some knowledge of daedric summoning.” Jerric recalled Jeanne’s pitiful scamp. He hoped the others had more to offer. “Anyway, Darnand and I can show you a few things. We should do it outside. There’s always fire.”

“I’ll arrange it for after you return from your contract. Your rank doesn’t reflect your abilities. Show them what you can do, and they’ll more readily accept your command.”

“All right,” said Jerric. Command. Dammit.

He jogged back down the stairs to find Right-Wind.

So Jerric has experienced orc sex. Go Jerric XD

I finally understood why that woman freaked out and told Jerric was with Hommund.

Omfg XD

And Ulfe got a snack!! Neither Kayla nor Samara will be joining the Fighters Guild XD

I’ll eat your heart with a side of balls.
And orc with a taste for mountain oysters! Somehow I don't think she's exaggerating either!

Aaaand it looks like she got a taste of Jerric after all. I do think that is the first time he has had sex since hooking up with Abiene. With someone else at least. I have been expecting that for a long time. Though I do not believe that means he has moved on. Just that his penis finally won out over his brain. Most men don't last that long in that battle, especially the young ones filled with testosterone.

Kjestrid sounds like a good solid Nordic woman. As Kid Rock said: "I like big corn fed Midwestern ho's" Except without the ho part.

Huh, he thought, denying his regret. Soft-bellied mages.
Wimps!

Bugshat’s the cook. Yeah, he’s an orc. No, I’m not jesting.”
Uh oh, since Orcs view horses as a main course, I am guessing dogs might be the appetizer... Looks like Jerric had the same idea too! Ulfe's lucky she's not a St. Bernard or Rottweiler, or she'd been in a pot with some garlic and rosemary.

“Go ahead, I won’t take offense. You should hear what your name sounds like in the Orsimer tongue.”
This reminds me of Alien Nation, and the main character Sykes, who name sounds like "cranium excrement" in the Newcomer's native language.

Looks like the Bruma FG and MG do not work as well together as the two guilds in Bravil. I am not surprised, given the nature of the Bruma MG leader.

YIKES!!

Emergency edit to clarify the orc-humping. They were having a fistfight. (Which would actually be pretty much the same, considering the two participants. ) I changed it a little:



Sorry about that, folks! Jerric's balls are still as blue as when he first arrived.

OMFG XD Grits!!!! I was like "Wow, that was unexpected!" LMFAO!!!!

Lol. Yeah, right in the middle of the practice floor (and cold sober) is a little bold, even for Jerric. My editing went very wrong!!

Awww, poor Jerric. Blue balls and a busted lip to go with them.

I didn't catch what Jerric and Bumph's activities looked like before the adjustment, but I am left wondering if she took her shirt off, too.

I'm glad you've added more people to the FG; that place was always a bit empty. Except that it had beds for four, if I'm remembering right, and now you've got twice that many! Even if the porter never sleeps...

Nits: "Asgerd will check the roles rolls when she gets back." When there are homophones, it seems like you always want the other one. Except when it's bare/bear riders, when they both work.

I was about to point out that Jerric's left his sword for repair, and then gone off to Right-Wind for training, but of course he'd never be caught with only one blade, and he wouldn't spar with his main one.

I really liked this but for the opposite reason of the previous episode. Your description of the MG was like donning a favorite pair of cozy slippers, but the FG is all new territory to Buffy and I. So. . . your descriptions of the members were either lost in ancient Acadian history or completely new to me. I shall definitely ask Buffy to take us there and perhaps ask that nice porter to give her a tour – well, after they stop laughing of course.

“Is there another place I can go in Bruma?”
Jaan pointed his hammer at the door. “Sure. Go hump yourself.” - - Oh this got a treydogian gigglesnort!

‘Jerric snorted. “Bugshat? Are you jesting?” - - As did this!

You really gave me a fright for a moment regarding dear Ulfe!

Gosh, I must say that Jerric seems to fit right in with that FG bunch. Perhaps a bit more than with his soft bellied mages in the other guild. Of course, none of those other steel-suiters can summon a Frost Astronaut like Jerric can!

Wow, that FG branch commander seems to quite have her stuff together. Can’t wait to see what she’s got in mind for Jerric’s contract and how it ties to Jauffre.

17-3

Ah, it took me a moment to remember who the Alter in this was supposed to be. Is there a missing Khajiit?

The poor scamp has probably been pulled back and forth between Oblivion and Tamriel for hours!

If this guild hall specialized in necromancy at one time, those other facilities might be of interest to Darnand. Is ‘cold storage’ simply a locked box outside? I am interested in what kind of quarters the Fighter’s Guild is going to offer. I expect plenty of Nords.

“Please ignore him. He has received many blows to the head.”

Lil to the rescue.

Inventory eh? Sounds like a way to resupply.

“We may not wear your fancy rings, but make no mistake. Honmund is my man.”

Now I regret not catching the first go around of this most recent installment! I always thought Bumph was a toughie when it comes to everything, including sex. She certainly is someone who's got my (and Julian's) respect! I always smile at her name. I'm sure she gives her foes (and lovers!) quite the bumps!

So Jerric finally realized what Alga was talking about? That part made me laugh, especially when he realized what Lil was doing! That little Bosmer must be pretty proud of herself right about now!

My, how graphic. A true a vulgarian!

Fun chapter. I thought for a moment Ulfe was chow. So, Jerric was indirectly sword-blocked by the brothel-hating Lildereth and he has to deal with Jaan, who by the way is just a bright ray of sunshine . . .

I liked the exchange between Bugshat(lol) and Jerric, and the good old humor of Orsimer cooks and their fellow co-workers. Certainly rings a bell.

17-4

Lol, what a lovely place the Fighters’ guild is. Though the Mages’ guild doesn’t sound any more pleasant!

I somehow think Lil’s got their best interests in mind when she prevented Jerric from having any fun here. Jerric seems to be waaay too chatty.

Jaan of the basement! I thought Jerric would be at home in this dump, but slow smith and now he has to worry about Orcs eating Ulfe!

The fighter's guild is very Brumese, isn't it?

I absolutely loved this part, and I got a lot of belly laughs from Jaan of the Basement and the kitchen scene (Bugshat! ). Asgerd looks like an interesting character as well, and the coded conversation was an interesting read, even if was simply because Jerric was being put through his mental paces a great deal there.

Loved this chapter, and looking forward to the next part

Previously: Jerric introduced himself at the Bruma Fighters Guild. He learned that the chapter head Asgerd was in contact with the Blades, and she had a job for him. But first he should spar with Right-Wind. He has also been assigned the task of making J’skar reappear at the Mages Guild.


Elisabeth Hollow: Lol, the image of Jerric and Bumph spilling fluids on the practice mats has now been seared into my brain. Sorry about that! Yeah, the Bruma FG kitchen is not going to pass any kind of inspection.

SubRosa: You’re right, Jerric’s kept it in his pants since he came back to Abiene, except for the incident at the Sanguine shrine that he’s not disclosing. It’s been an unprecedented stretch of near-monogamy! He’s been away from Abiene for about a week and a half now. With all of the strange for hire at the brothel next door he’s definitely feeling tempted. Not to mention the corn-fed Nord that just caught his eye. I would expect him to hump first and think about it later. Not this time, though. Cranium Excrement, lol. The dog meat is just one piece of cultural awkwardness that must pop up all of the time in Tamriel. I think the races sometimes seem very alien to each other. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: Thanks for catching that nit, I even looked it up first and still got it wrong. You’re right, not only does Jerric carry an arsenal, but he’d also spar with the guild’s blunted practice blades. He wishes he got one of those beds from the game. In the story I only gave him a bare cot! Thank you, ghastley!

Acadian: The game only gives us Bumph and Right-Wind (plus a generic porter), so Jerric’s version of the Bruma FG is quite a bit more lively. I liked leaving the Mages Guild mostly empty, though, to reflect recent events in the guild as well as Jeanne’s questionable leadership. I’m glad Asgerd came across as pulled-together. The guild hall is kind of a mess, but she’s not a slouch. Thank you, Acadian!

King Coin: Lol, resupply. That is a very Darnand idea! I can see him paralyzed with indecision if he found a black soul gem. I’m sure Jerric will be throwing bottles on the floor at the Fighters Guild before long right with the rest of them. And scraping the mold off of some leftover rat meat. You called it on his chattiness, it was all he could do not to play “wanna see my sword” with Kjestrid. And we know he’d make an ass of himself trying to lie about where he got his katana! Thanks, KC!

haute ecole rider: Indeed, Jerric would have come out of the tussle with some marks on him no matter which way he bumped with Bumph! I have a lot of affection for the orcs of Oblivion, so it’s fun to write them. You’re right, Lil has a lot to be smug about. The presence of so many Nordic bosoms has not quickened Jerric’s wits. Too bad she couldn’t be there when he figured it out! Thank you, haute!

Darkness Eternal: Thank you, DE! I worked as a prep cook in a typically verbally abusive restaurant kitchen, but at the end of every night we all hung out at the bar together until they closed. I’m glad some of that odd camaraderie came across.

Colonel Mustard: When I first saw the Bruma Fighters Guild with the blood stains and bottles on the floor, I knew it would have to be a dump. I’m glad you’re enjoying the characters. There was a lot going on around Jerric, so Jaan only had a brief window to make an impression. Thanks, Mustard!


Next: Bruma. This update ran a little long since I didn’t want to split up the scene. It will be more than a week before I post again, though. I have to untangle the mess I made during NaNoWriMo!

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Five

Jerric found Right-Wind sparring with an Imperial woman on the training floor. It looked like a lesson. Rather than interrupt he whistled for Ulfe and ducked next door to the Mages Guild.

Jeanne greeted him before the door closed. “Hel-looo, Associate!” Her fretful scamp popped in and then out in a blink. Its cackle sounded like a strangled imitation of Jeanne’s piercing warble. Jerric turned his laugh into a snort.

Ulfe trotted over to the supply room door and stood with her tail waving. Jerric guessed Darnand was in there busy counting quills. He walked over to the alchemy shop to question Selena.

The alchemist perched on the edge of her chair fiddling with vials. She had that hyper-vigilant look that made Jerric cringe. No doubt she would decant his potions just to count the lumps.

“Good afternoon,” Jerric said to her.

Selena’s expression was less than welcoming. “Do you seek a trade, Associate?”

“Uh, no thank you. Not right now. I was wondering if you know anything about J’skar. Where he might have gone, or something.”

“I haven’t seen him in days. Volanaro said something about a spell backfiring, making him permanently invisible. Maybe you should go see him about it.”

“Permanently invisible? Does he know a mage named Ancotar?”

Selena gave him a look.

“Yeah, I was just checking. Listen, I didn’t mean what I said before to be about you, specifically. The bag of bones thing. I hope you’re not offended. You have just the right amount of meat on you. I mean, a lot of older women…”

Selena’s brows drew together.

“All right, see you later,” Jerric said, making a hasty retreat. He loped down the stairs toward the living quarters.

A hiss sounded behind him. “Go away! You’ll ruin everything!”

Jerric turned to see Ulfe on the landing, rooting vigorously in the air with her nose.

Permanently invisible. He stuck a hand into his pocket and slipped on the life detection ring. A pink glow blossomed into view. It performed a wild dance fending off Ulfe’s advances.

“J’skar?”

“Hssst!” said the glow. It darted up the stairs and away.

Jerric followed more slowly, pondering his options. Jeanne had requested that he make J’skar reappear, not that he simply locate the missing mage. It occurred to him that the chapter head may know more about the situation than she had let on. Locating the prankster would not solve her whole problem. He put the ring back in his pocket.

Volanaro had moved to a different book case.

Jerric approached him. “You sell spells, right? I’d like to buy a spell of Dispelling. On another person. Can you teach me?”

“Certainly. Are you an accomplished mystic?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then I must inform you that you will certainly fail to learn.”

Jerric scratched his head for a moment. “Do you sell scrolls?”

Volanaro got a crafty look on his face. “Yes, but… I’m afraid I’ve sold out of all my, ah… Scrolls of Dispelling.”

Dammit. Jerric considered using his Arcane Well blessing to outsmart the Altmer. Then he had a thought.

“Elf!” he called, jogging back down to the living quarters. He flailed his arms as he went in case he got lucky. He would like to knock J’skar out of his invisible shoes.

Lildereth was not in the living quarters. Jerric eyed her pack. It was likely she still had the scrolls left over from their trip through Hrotanda Vale. It was also likely that she’d skin him alive if he ransacked her belongings.

Jerric ran back up the stairs and into the supply room. He closed the door behind him.

“Darnand.”

The Breton backed out of a storage crate on his hands and knees. Jerric hauled him to his feet before Ulfe could pounce on him.

He leaned against a barrel while Darnand brushed off his robes. “How’s your day going?”

“Splendidly. I could never have imagined a more engaging pursuit.”

“Have you figured out what’s going on around here?” Jerric grabbed a bottle of brandy off a shelf and opened it for Darnand.

“While we were on the road Arch Mage Traven outlawed the summoning of undead within Guild property.” Darnand took a pull from the bottle. “Jeanne is practicing her new spell.”

“Well, she sucks at it.”

“So one might think.” Darnand passed the brandy. “She has crafted a spell to maximize the benefit per cost in magicka for practice. A longer duration spell requires more magicka and could not be cast as often.”

“Oh,” said Jerric. “So, what’s the situation?”

“I confess I am largely uninformed as to guild politics, but I have learned that the previous chapter head was expelled quite recently under the charge of practicing necromancy. A number of her associates departed with her. Jeanne was appointed to her position before any of the others could make a case for themselves, though they would have been fools to do so. Camilla Lollia is a powerful wizard. She made specific threats against this chapter. I wonder that anyone stayed.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric. “That’s real interesting. But what’s going on with J’skar? Ulfe found him, but he’s invisible. That yellow elf is acting shifty and won’t sell me a dispelling scroll. Do you know if Lildereth has one left from the wards we broke?”

Darnand took the bottle back. “I shall cast a spell for you. But first, please describe exactly what happened when you discovered J’skar’s position.”

As Jerric told the tale Darnand’s face took on his rabid scholar look.

“It sounds as if he is under a chameleon effect!” the Breton exclaimed. “His invisibility should have been broken when he spoke. I might not be strong enough to dispel it. By the Nine, he must be a powerful illusionist! Unusual for a Khajiit. Or perhaps…”

“The goldenrod did it,” Jerric agreed. “I’ll go break his arm. He’ll still have the other one to dispel it with.”

“Wait! Please reconsider. I should like very much to learn that spell.”

Jerric stopped with his hand on the door handle. “All right, I’ll leave Volanaro alone for now. Let me see if I can get my hands on that cat while you talk to the elf. He’s likely bored enough to come snooping.”

“Do not wear your life detection ring until necessary. It is possible that Volanaro could perceive its use.”

They found the high elf in his chamber. If he was contributing in some way to the advancement of magickal knowledge, Jerric couldn’t see how. He kept his eyes on Ulfe while Darnand began to chat with Volanaro. Though the Breton had no fondness for social niceties, he knew how to use them.

With little encouragement the Altmer unburdened himself. “All due respect to our wonderful leader... She couldn’t cast her way out of a paper sack. It’s insulting that we’re here working for her when she knows nothing. She’s managed to butter up the right people just enough to keep her position, and there’s little we can do about it. But we have our ways of coping with the situation.”

Darnand struck an agreeable tone. “Guild leadership is by nature a contradiction. We elevate administrators to our highest ranks while those most worthy of the titles wish most of all to be left alone to their work.”

Ulfe pricked up her ears, Jerric’s cue to use life detection. A slight figure stood at the door, visible only as a mystical glow. Jerric suspected that the hound’s presence kept J’skar from entering the chamber.

“It’s a shame that Selena doesn’t join in our fun,” Volanaro said. “She takes her role as Alchemist very seriously. If…”

Jerric lunged for the glow and got a handful of fabric. In an instant he had his arm across a furry throat and a tail clamped in his fist. “Now!” he called to Darnand.

His friend cast a series of spells in rapid succession, fortifying himself to wage war on the Altmer’s spell. Jerric lost track of the Breton when he felt the sharp prick of claws in a tender place. “Not the lads,” he choked, letting go of the now visible Khajiit.

“You’re no fun at all!” J’skar growled. “It was just a harmless little prank, that’s all. Why did you have to go and ruin it?”

Jerric replied with a manly whimper.

J’skar released his grip. “Fine, go tell Jeanne you found me. I was getting tired of being invisible all the time, anyway.”

Jerric checked himself for damage while Volanaro rubbed his palms together. The elf sounded more excited than upset. “Well, I guess we’ll go back to the drawing board,” he declared.

“If you please,” said Darnand. “I should like to know about the spell you used for this… creative and amusing prank. It is a chameleon effect, is it not? Will you teach it to me?”

The Altmer’s eyes squinted with his sly grin. “I can teach you, but you have to agree to do something for me first. And whatever you do, you can’t tell Jeanne about it. All right?”

Darnand gave Volanaro a go-ahead gesture.

“Heh. Really, you’re going to love this. What you need to do is get into Jeanne’s desk and bring me her Manual of Spellcraft, all right? Her room is upstairs, it should be easy to find. It’s the only one up there that has a door. Just one more privilege she doesn’t deserve. Make sure no one sees you. You do that for me, and I’ll teach you the spell.”

“Are you jesting?” Jerric interrupted. “You’re terrible at this!” He stuck his hand out at J’skar. “You had him invisible for days, and he has cat feet! You could have gotten it your damned selves! What’s wrong with you two?”

Volanaro looked aghast. “We could be suspended for stealing!”

“Kittens.” Jerric got an idea. “Never mind, I’ll do it. Has anyone seen the Bosmer? Otherwise I’ll have to break Jeanne’s desk. I’m guessing she keeps it locked with all of the mysteries at this guild hall.”

“That’s the spirit!” Volanaro cried. “I’ll teach you a spell to unlock things. Just go and unlock Jeanne’s desk, find her manual, and bring it to me.”

Jerric learned the Latch Crack spell before he had a chance to sweat about it. Volanaro was an idler, but he was an outstanding instructor.

“Now turn me invisible,” Jerric said to Volanaro. “Unless you want me to get caught.”

The Altmer appeared to be considering. “Nooo,” he drawled, “getting you caught would be… No.” He frowned at Jerric. “You are asking a lot. I can only cast the chameleon spell once a day or so, and I’m useless afterward. It puts a great strain on me.”

Jerric decided not to address the useless remark. “Do we have a deal, or not?” He hoped that Darnand would pay close attention when the Altmer cast.

Volanaro had not been exaggerating. It took a potion and several preparatory spells before he could cast the chameleon spell at Jerric.

Magicka surged into Jerric in that familiar warm rush. Volanaro got a stunned look on his face. Darnand pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Uh,” said Jerric, looking down at his boots. “I, uh, absorbed it.” He scratched a hand over his head. “It’s not a problem. I have another idea.”

The group moved up to the main level. J’skar stayed behind loitering in the opposite stairwell. He would distract Jeanne with his reappearance if the situation became dire. As little regard as Jerric had for his criminal record, it would not suit the greater purpose to get kicked out of the guild for theft.

Darnand drew Jeanne into the storage room with a question. Jerric walked up the stairs to Jeanne’s chamber, minding his boot heels. It was a moment’s work to retrieve her manual. He drew on Jone’s Shadow as he slipped back down the stairs. His footsteps softened to silence, and his body shimmered away to invisibility.

Volanaro stood in the middle of the empty main hall, leaning forward on his toes in eagerness.

No wonder these jesters are alone with their pranks. Jerric walked up behind Volanaro. When the moment was right he yanked up the high elf’s velvet tunic and stuffed Jeanne’s manual down the front of his leggings. Jerric’s invisibility was ruined, but the blessing’s other attributes got him across the chamber quicker than a wink.

Jeanne strode out of the supply room to find Volanaro gyrating with both hands down his pants. Jerric shared a disgusted look with her at the display.

“J’skar,” Jerric said, indicating the giggling Khajiit out on the landing. Volanaro fled.

Jeanne took J’skar’s reappearance in stride. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, so now I’ll fulfill mine,” she informed Jerric. “Raminus will have my recommendation. Let’s just keep this incident between us, all right? It might make... a bad impression. And don’t you forget about me once you’ve finished your training! I’m sure we can help each other out!”

Jerric trotted back down the steps to make peace with Volanaro, preparing his speech. He found that Altmeri responded best when he used words he couldn’t spell.

Volanaro was pacing his chamber, chortling over the book. “She won’t figure this out for weeks!” he crowed to Jerric. “Ah, times like this make life worth living. It was a good idea, wasn’t it? I wonder how long she’ll spend trying to figure out where she put it down.”

Jerric had no sympathy for Jeanne. He believed that respect needed to be earned, and the state of the guild hall was a reflection of its leadership. However there was a matter he felt the need to address with his guildmate.

“Volanaro,” Jerric said, “pranks are for your friends. Like insults. Otherwise they’re just bullying or asking for a fight. For example, if Darnand was to suggest that my mother was morally relaxed in her conduct with men, I might simply reply that his mother was of such size that she could employ a sheep as a sanitary aid. If you should venture such an opinion, you would find yourself choking on your nuts while I picked your teeth out of my elbow.”

Volanaro seemed to accept the advice. He folded his hands. “It was an honor to receive your prank, Kjellingsson. It is my hope to someday cast aspersions upon the honor of your mother, and receive disparagements in kind.”

Jerric returned the gesture while he unraveled the Altmer’s meaning. He filed ‘cast aspersions’ in his mind next to ‘impugn.’ “I look forward to that day and leave you with the promise that I shall take the earliest opportunity to denigrate yours.” He grinned. “You yellow fetcher.”

He decided to go back to the Fighters Guild before all this talk gave him a more of headache.

Oh my god! that was hilarious!!!!

I really like how you explained away the empty Guildhall. I had forgotten about that in your last update.

Hehe hehe

Loved how Ulfe found J'skar! I can just see her sticking her nose in the cat's -- well, privates! Not really pleasant for J'skar!

And what Jerric did with the book is just priceless! Especially the timing of it!

Good to see Jerric back in full form here.

It didn't happen that way when I last went there! Maybe I should have taken a dog with me; Ulfe does seems to have made all the difference.

Of course Jerric would absorb the spell, but one hopes Darnard learned from the demonstration.

- exactly my take, too. I liked Darnand's point that she'd crafted her spell to get the most practice benefit from the magicka use - it's always fun when the game mechanics get into the story line.

No doubt she would decant his potions just to count the lumps.
Ewww, he has lumps in his potions? Are they raisins? You like raisins...

I loved the mention of Ancotar. I never thought to make that leap of association before!

I mean, a lot of older women…
This is just what a lot of older women love to hear...

And Ulfe sniffed out J'skar's invisible crotch! Now that is a good pooch.

Oh, I love the backstory on necromancy in the MG chapter, and the news that Jeanne is the replacement for the previous corpseophile chapter head. The threats made by said corpseophile play nicely into later events in the MG questline.

“I’ll go break his arm. He’ll still have the other one to dispel it with.”
And today the part of Jerric will be played by Tony Soprano.

“Not the lads,”
Not Zeus and Apollo! Oh, too much Magnum P.I...

All in all, a hilarious romp through the disaster that is the Bruma Mages Guild hall.

Yes, a delightful romp through the Bruma MG recommendation quest. Great fun!

‘Jeanne greeted him before the door closed. “Hel-looo, Associate!”
- - Your spelling captured Jeanne’s in-game greeting to perfection!

“Yeah, I was just checking. Listen, I didn’t mean what I said before to be about you, specifically. The bag of bones thing. I hope you’re not offended. You have just the right amount of meat on you. I mean, a lot of older women…”
Selena’s brows drew together.’
- - Eeep! Jerric! Put down the shovel and stop digging your hole deeper!

"Camilla Lollia is a powerful wizard. She made specific threats against this chapter."
Uh oh. I know what happens to the happily dysfunctional family of the Bruma guild hall and hope Camilla’s threats do not play out as they do in game.

“Volanaro,” Jerric said, “pranks are for your friends. Like insults. Otherwise they’re just bullying or asking for a fight. For example, if Darnand was to suggest that my mother was morally relaxed in her conduct with men, I might simply reply that his mother was of such size that she could employ a sheep as a sanitary aid. If you should venture such an opinion, you would find yourself choking on your nuts while I picked your teeth out of my elbow.”
- - This was both clever and spectacularly well-written. I can just imagine how much fun you must have had crafting this passage. Not only is it great advice, but it simply reeks ‘Jerric’ and shows that the Nord really has been paying attention to the fancy words used by Darnand.

That was another good chapter, and its resolution was very nicely handled indeed; as Acadian said, Jerric's little passage was very well written. I got a lot of laughs throughout that, and there were some awesome lines in there; "Jerric replied with a manly whimper." had me rolling!

I really liked the hints towards the latter parts of the Mage's Guild quest when the necromancers become a problem, what with Camilla Lollia storming off in a huff, and I'd be very unsurprised if that came up again.

Nice try Jerric, but I think you made it worse with the alchemist.

J’skar, foiled by a dog!

I like Darnand’s sarcasm. It’s fitting for him. He seems to have managed to dig up quite a bit of info. Threats on this hall?

All that effort and Jerric absorbed the spell! I would expect Volanaro to ring his neck!

Oh my gosh, that was the perfect way to pass off the manual!

This was another fun and humorous chapter. Hilarious. When will cats realize they can't hide from dogs for too long? Ulfe must have smelled something weird. Maybe khajiit cooking down low? This one shudders at the thought.

Darnand is a smart cookie, and the necrodancers are a possible threat to the guildhall. Jerric's racism still amuses me. His comment about the nuts in the mouth had me laughing my rear off. Haha. Great chapter, Grits.

AAHHHH!!!!



That's all there is? I could've sworn I had another page or two to go.

Bloody good stuff! There's too much awesomeness for me to cite specifics, so I'll just have to settle for repeating myself:

Bloody good stuff!

*Joins others waiting for more*

OOoh, I have missed me Jerric!... ...

Sorry it took so long to get here...The eyes aren't back to full strength yet... ...

Anyways...

Firstly...


...At least it wasn't just me... ...

Secondly...

My God I love this story...

I absolutely love the way you bring all of the game's details in and then twist it all into some massive pile of awesome hilarity and mega-story-awesomeness...

Yes, I'm addicted to the word awesome...I blame Supernatural, but then that's just me...

But yeah, all the characters and their scripts turned on their heads for the sake of expanding the story...

I love the details about the Necromancy in the guild...Still creeps me out that it's in there at all, but they didn't make it for me, did they?... ...Loved the quest to find the Khajiit in the game...Always fun...

Loved the Fighters Guild stuff too...The smith made me laugh..."Loredas..."... ...

As did this bit (amongst other...Um...Bits...)...



...

Amazing writing...Glad to be back...*Smiles warmly*...

A long overdue Nice One!!!™...

and a huge and hearty round of Hearty Applauding™...

Previously: Jerric and Darnand are in Bruma seeking Mages Guild recommendations while searching for the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. Lildereth is with them pursuing her own concerns. Jerric earned his recommendation by making J’skar reappear (with some help from Ulfe). Darnand is earning his by doing inventory.


Elisabeth Hollow: Thanks! I’m sorry about the extra-slow pace. I keep forgetting things between updates, too!

haute ecole rider: Thank you, haute! It was fun to let Jerric do some pranking. A reminder of happier times.

ghastley: Thanks, ghastley! Jeanne was fun to figure out. She had to have some reasons behind her situation and behavior.

SubRosa: Thank you, SubRosa! The Bruma recommendation was fun to write for Jerric. A quest with no killing!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! Jerric’s speech to Volanaro was one of the first things I wrote for him years ago. It was like meeting an old friend to find that passage in my notes. To hear that it rang true to the Jerric you have come to know means so much. I love the smiley depiction of our friends at the Bruma Guild!

Colonel Mustard: Originally I had planned to have the Fighters Guild and the Mages Guild questlines play out during this story. Lol. I’ve learned some things since then! Thanks, Mustard!

King Coin: I think it’s safe to say that Selena will never be in Jerric’s fan club. Ulfe should get the recommendation! Thanks, KC!

Darkness Eternal: Thanks, DE! Good thing Ulfe is friendly and didn’t give J’skar a little nip down low.

Callidus Thorn: Thank you, Callidus! Sorry about the delay. It’s great to have you reading!

McBadgere: Thank you so much, McB! This was a fun one to write. So many ways for Jerric to screw it up, lol. And after another long delay… more parts!


Next: Jerric is due at the Fighters Guild for an evaluation with Right-Wind, the guild’s Blade trainer. The Bruma FG chapter head Asgerd is aware of Jerric’s status as agent of the Blades. She has promised him a contract and informed him that Jauffre expects a visit before he leaves the area.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Six

Outside the Mages Guild Ulfe trotted away without a backward glance. Jerric wondered if she was on the scent of a Bosmer. The hound shared Lildereth’s habit of disappearing and then reappearing without explanation.

Jerric slowed his steps as he passed the brothel. The afternoon sun had already dropped behind the mountains, leaving the street in shade. The building’s ground floor lacked windows on the front, as did most of the others on this level of the city. Only one discreet sign and a number of guild banners served to advertise the business. He supposed that the wind must be enough to drive the indecisive indoors in the absence of shop-front temptations.

Inside the Fighters Guild Right-Wind stood on the training floor dressed in leather armor. “Get your shield,” he said to Jerric, tossing him a blunted practice sword. “And put on your plate, if you value your soft skin. Khah-khah-khah.”

Bumph came forward with some leather pads for him to wear over his torso and thighs. Jerric watched Right-Wind warm up while he put on the safety gear. The blade Right-Wind had chosen was close to Redeemer in length and balance. Jerric resolved to get a few more noises out of the lizard.

Right-Wind pushed Jerric hard from the start. Sweat soaked through his tunic within minutes. They had drawn a crowd by the time Jerric finally bashed Right-Wind into a stupor with his shield. He scanned the scarred mats while Kjestrid patted the lizard awake.

“I don’t think you lost any teeth,” Jerric said to him. It was all he could manage while catching his breath.

Right-Wind’s answer did not sound like words. When his eyes cleared, he continued in Cyrodilic. “We do not have anything more to teach them,” Right-Wind said. “Have they trained with Rhano? We have not sparred with them.”

Jerric’s own head felt fuzzy trying to sort through the dazed Argonian’s pronouns. He decided that the truth would serve best. “I trained under Master Daron in Kvatch,” he said. “Rhano trained with him, too, when he was a lad. You have a good eye.”

Right-Wind accepted Jerric’s arm up and kept the grip for a moment once on his feet. His eyes squinted and his mouth wrinkled up at the corners. “You could be faster.”

Bumph spoke up. “He moves well enough.” She shot a glance over Jerric’s shoulder where Asgerd leaned against the wall.

Jerric didn’t see the reply, but Bumph must have gotten her message across. Asgerd came forward and clapped Jerric on the shoulder. “You’d like a meal, I’d wager. Won’t be long now. Clean up this gear. Bumph will show you where to stow it.”

Jerric saw a number of his guild mates surrendering coins to the Khajiit as he followed Bumph to the basement. He guessed that only the cat had been willing to bet against Right-Wind. Jerric’s thigh began to complain as they went down the steps. By the time he reached his work station a number of pains had made themselves known.

“He’s fast,” Jerric said to Bumph. “I had to take more hits than I’d have liked.” The orc was a trainer in the use of heavy armor. There was no harm in fishing for some free advice.

“You’re a counter-striker,” Bumph said. “Even with your shield you’re going to take some punishment when you spar in practice gear.”

“And I usually soften them up on the way in with a little frost.”

Bumph snorted.

Jerric had to agree. The stars made him a mage, but his Nord blood wasn’t always in agreement. “When’s dinner?”

They found the tables loaded with food when they returned to the main level. Jerric took a seat at Kjestrid’s table between the Khajiit who had bet on him and a red-headed Nord woman.

“Kjellingsson,” he said to the group.

“Yeah, we figured that out,” said the redhead.

“That one is Rhea,” the Khajiit told Jerric, indicating the woman. “This one is Shamir-Do.”

Jerric glanced around as the others introduced themselves.

“Perius,” said a sandy-haired Imperial seated next to Kjestrid. He elbowed the man to his left. “This lump is Torellius. And here’s Gjaever.”

A red-faced Nord sat down with a crash, grunting in recognition of Jerric’s greeting. He began filling mugs from a gloriously large earthenware pitcher.

“Pleased to meet you,” Jerric said. He traded an empty tankard for a full one.

Rather than passing the serving dishes in the Gold Coast manner, the Bruma guild members reached into the center of the table and helped themselves from the enormous bowls of food. Jerric filled his plate with roasted potatoes and carrots, boiled cabbage and sausage, and a pile of mutton slices. He eyed the roasted dog, deciding he would henceforth pass on that kind of meat.

The local brew was a rich, foamy porter. Jerric drank deeply and let out an appreciative belch.

“Black as a Suthay’s birth night,” said Shamir-Do, lifting his tankard. The Khajiit seemed to have a Nord’s appreciation for the bitter beer.

From Shamir-Do’s impressive stature Jerric guessed he was a Cathay, but he didn’t know how to ask. The Khajiit wore a sleeveless vest over a short-sleeved tunic, and the fur on his thick arms showed sable rosettes against a tan base color. He wore his dark hair tied up in braids and beads. They call Cathy-raht ‘jaguar-men,’ Jerric thought. He wondered if that was because of their elaborate spots.

Shamir-Do’s fangs showed in a grin when he caught Jerric looking.

Or it could be the teeth. “Why’d you bet on me?” Jerric asked him. Right-Wind sat at the other table, so Jerric thought the Khajiit might speak freely.

“This one likes a longshot.”

Rhea turned and looked straight at Jerric. “Is that a wedding ring?” She nodded at his shield hand.

Habit made Jerric touch the gold band with his thumb. “No, it was a gift from my sister. Her idea of a jest.” His mind filled with the things he wasn’t supposed to say. Not telling her tale felt like a betrayal. His throat began to tighten. Dammit. Not now.

Rhea’s eyebrows went up. “So are you single?”

“Uh.” Jerric picked up his tankard then put it back down. Here the ground was even less certain. He felt his face flush. “It’s complicated.”

Gjaever reached across with the pitcher and filled Jerric’s cup without a word while Perius muttered to Rhea. Shamir-Do and Torellius leaned back for the show.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Oh. Then you’re the battlemage. Why aren’t you staying with—” Kjestrid’s elbow in her ribs shut Rhea up. Jerric feared the condition was temporary.

“Never mind, Rhea,” said Kjestrid. She turned a kind smile toward Jerric. “It’s been a long winter with few new folk in town. Enough to turn fighters into fishwives.”

“But,” said Rhea, then she yelped. Jerric hoped that someone had kicked her. He put his face into his tankard.

Chairs scraped the floor as Asgerd and Bumph stood up from a far table. Jerric’s dinner companions turned to listen to their chapter head.

“Good work out there today. Job done and no one died. Still, Jaan tells me some of you will be doing extra sprints. And one of you proved the strength of his metal.”

As Kjestrid flushed bright pink, Perius reached out and tousled her hair. Jerric recalled the dented helm. He guessed that surviving such a blow earned a fighter more practice drills than praise in this guild hall. He had to admit that ducking was usually better.

“Congratulations go to Torellius, our guild’s newest Swordsman.” Asgerd tossed the rank medal across to the grinning Imperial. He dropped the thong over his head and kissed the emblem before tucking it into his tunic.

“I have your assignments,” Asgerd continued. “Rhea and Perius, you’ll take the Applewatch run. Torellius, see me later. I have an offer for you, but it’s your call if you take it. They asked for you specifically. Kjestrid, Gjaever, Shamir-Do, and Kjellingsson, see me tonight in my office. Contracts will be posted as usual.” Jerric guessed that the last had been said for his benefit.

Talk resumed with the expected rude speculation over the special request for Torellius, but no grumbling. Jerric noted that not everyone had been assigned work. He guessed that Asgerd must have a fair system in place, or else folk aired their grievances in private. Either way was encouraging.

By the time Vito and Tonio hustled out to clear the tables most of the non-resident fighters had left. Kjestrid remained in her seat. Jerric leaned back and scratched his belly.

“Are you staying for a sweat?” Rhea asked Kjestrid. “I want to get in and out before the troops get here.”

“Not tonight. I’m going out with Skjorta.”

That got an eyeroll from Rhea, a snort from Shamir-Do, and Gjaever’s beard might have twitched.

Jerric gave Shamir-Do a questioning look.

The cat-man shook his beads. “Khajiit has not the words.”

“It’s an old Nord tradition,” Kjestrid told Jerric. Her tone was serious, but her laughing eyes made Jerric suspicious. “You really must try it. Go into the sweat lodge with a pitcher of ale. Then when you come back out, just do what comes naturally.”

Jerric imagined that she was not talking about a long piss against the side of a building, but he couldn’t come up with another idea. He decided to wait and see. “What troops?” he asked Rhea.

“Militia, reserve, and irregulars. They come here on rotation to train with the Bruma Guard. The castle makes their soup and the chapel helps with the healing. Asgerd knows who will be here when, if you care that much. They come in after dark, sleep on the floor, and leave before first light. So if you’re looking for someone you’ll have to be quick about it.”

“No,” said Jerric. “Just curious.” Overuse explained the guild’s state of grime. Asgerd hadn’t seemed like one who would run a shabby hall. The spacious and empty Mages Guild seemed pristine by comparison. “How many?”

“Up to a hundred fifty, give or take.” The flirty smile was gone from Rhea’s face, replaced with cold resolve. “Companies come from all over. Farmers mostly. Cattlemen, woodcutters, hunters…” Her eyes snapped to Jerric’s. “Do you serve in County Anvil?”

“Uh.” Jerric scratched a hand over his head, stalling. His mind was an empty roll of parchment.

Kjestrid spoke. “I heard you and your mage friend fought daedra with the Legion along the Gold Road.” While Jerric stared she cut her eyes at Rhea. “A lot of folk lost their lives around there. So I guess we should shut the fetch up about it.”

Gjaever broke the silence by rising majestically to his feet.

Kjestrid glanced up at him. “Yeah,” she said as if he had spoken out loud. “Let’s go talk to Asgerd.”

Since Jerric is not getting any bump and tickle in the hooer house, it looks like the Fighters Guild will have to suffice. Quite a few bumps there!

The stars made him a mage, but his Nord blood wasn’t always in agreement.
I love this little Nordic observation.

And I see dinner is served Nordic-style as well, rather than with West Coast Manners.

“It’s complicated.”
That is an understatement of Bretonic proportions...

A nice get to know you with the Bruma Fighters Guild. They are a much more interesting bunch that what we see in any of the guild halls in the game. For starters, they actually work for a living! Instead of just lounging around all day.

“I don’t think you lost any teeth,” Jerric said to him. He does have more to spare than most of the other races.

Glad to see the FG gets a few more recruits in Jerric's world than the vanilla game. It's almost not worth having the building in Bruma for that few.

I really, really love seeing personality in the guildmates, and seeing how they interact with one another.

And poor Jerric, lol. Lil's little spiel about him and Darnand being lovers isn't helping him with the ladies lol

I’m so glad to see this continuing, and much appreciate the little ‘previously’ and ‘next’ paragraphs that so nicely warm us up right back into things.

Jerric really held his own against Right Wind!

“Black as a Suthay’s birth night,” - - I loved this nod to how the moons determine the breed of each Khajiit at the time of their birth. And sure enough, a moonless night (both moons in new phase) makes for a Suthay kitten! I've thoroughly loved Iliana's Elsweyr mod and the variety of Khajiit found there; it actually got me quite interested in how the moons affect their breed.

What a delightful picture you paint here of the Bruma FG. Since I'm not very familiar with the FG halls, it is the wonderful flavor added to Bruma by you and Bravil by SubRosa that helps me appreciate both of them. Buffy's exposure is generally limited to absent-mindedly popping into the Anvil FG instead of the MG since they are side by side. That typically results in a hungry "I like what I see!" from the handsome Azzan, followed by a quick elven retreat.

I loved the flirty and awkward persistence of Rhea. Yeah. . . it’s complicated.

I loved this latest update and the insights into the members of the Bruma Fighters Guild. I wish I had the opportunity in OHDH to spend more time with these folks, as they are as much fun in their own ways as the Mages Guild. But alas, that is not the path Julian or Tallei chose to follow. Some day soon, though . . .

Both SubRosa and Acadian already touched on the things I loved the most about this update. So I'll just say:

Well, since I had to re-read the whole of chapter seventeen to refresh my memory, just about everything I would have commented on already has been

Though I'll still echo others by saying how great it was too see the Bruma Fighters Guild come to life.



I love this bit, beautifully done.

This was a fun chapter, I’m glad you updated Grits!

I thought Jerric slowed his steps at the brothel because he was going to head inside…

Loved getting to know some of the other guild members more. Sounds like Jerric won his place at the guildhall. A big gambling Khajiit, I wonder if he was inspired by anyone?

And it seems like Jerric’s already blown his cover. The Blades sure picked a bad agent!

Jerric can never stray from a brothel, can he? Who can blame him? If you have the coin, might as well right? But alas, he just walked by it.

The guild members were something else. Good to get to know some of them. Jerric's joining was cool. I do wonder what this will lead him and his friends to.

Previously: Jerric and Darnand are in Bruma seeking Mages Guild recommendations while searching for the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. Lildereth is with them searching for monsters to hunt and collecting Welkynd stones. Jerric sparred Right-Wind, met some guild mates, and ate dinner at the Fighters Guild hall. When Jerric left the Mages Guild Ulfe trotted off to pursue her own business.



SubRosa: I was surprised to find the game’s Bruma FG has only two members (plus the porter). There’s a bug on consoles that sometimes locks you inside so I habitually avoided that building until Jerric’s PC game. It’s been fun to fill it with Brumese fighters. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: When I pictured Right-Wind’s toothy smile I knew Jerric would love to put some gaps in it. The Bruma FG definitely seems unfinished in the vanilla game. They don’t even offer any quests. Thanks, ghastley!

Elisabeth Hollow: Thanks, Elisabeth! Lildereth is pretty pleased with herself over that little deception.

Acadian: I added the ‘previously’ remarks so that folks might remember what we are discussing after these long breaks between segments. It was fun to show how Jerric’s skills measure up without his spells. As Asgerd said, his rank doesn’t reflect his abilities. Right-Wind is only a basic Blade trainer in the game. I got quite the chuckle over Buffy’s interactions with Azzan! Thank you, Acadian!

haute ecole rider: Initially I thought we’d spend more time with the FG quests in this story than has been feasible, so it’s fun to fill in the blanks where I can. While each Mages Guild will get a visit for a recommendation there are some FG chapters that will get skipped. Not Bruma, of course. As we know, events will bring us back to Bruma. Thank you, hautee!

Callidus Thorn: Thank you, Callidus! Jerric’s losses are never far from his mind, though the story rarely mentions them.

King Coin: Oh crap, I should have written Shamir-Do as Kharjo! After all he does say “Ahkari freed me from a prison in Cyrodiil,” and I know just the Nord who could have accidentally put him there. I smell a short story… There is no doubt that the Blades would have rejected Jerric’s application had he ever gone job-hunting. Too bad for them as Brother Venco put it, “Divine intervention circumvents our recruitment process.” Thank you, KC!

Darkness Eternal: There may be a limit to Jerric’s triumph over temptation. Good thing they usually stay at the Mages Guild instead of the guild halls that are closely associated with brothels. Thank you, DE!



Next: It’s after dinner on the 7th of First Seed, the gang’s first night in Bruma. Jerric, Kjestrid, Shamir-Do, and Gjaever get their assignment from Fighters Guild chapter head Asgerd.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Seven

Jerric filed into Asgerd’s office behind Kjestrid, Gjaever, and Shamir-Do. As before the extra chairs were pushed back against the wall rather than pulled up to her desk. Asgerd rose as they entered. The five of them gathered in a circle with the desk in the middle. A map of Colovia lay on it.

“You four have the Echo run,” Asgerd said. She tapped the map with her finger, illustrating her words. “We have a package to deliver to our friends in the hills. You’ll be able to find your way up from Rielle,” she said to Jerric. Then she looked back at the Bruma fighters. “The north road is being watched. No, they want us to leave them alone so they can spy on the spies. Drop him near Rielle and patrol to Echo Cave as usual. Return through the Castle Gate.”

I’m the package, Jerric realized. That’s how I’ll get to Cloud Ruler Temple. He glanced over at Kjestrid, but her eyes stayed on Asgerd. She knew about the Gold Road Gate. What else does she..?

“You’re on your own from Rielle, Kjellingsson,” Asgerd was saying. She gestured at his guild mates. “None of us needs to know any more.”

Jerric made an attempt to school his features. “Uh. Right.”

“Questions?” Asgerd waited a moment. “Good hunting.”

Jerric took a closer look at the map, checking for new information. All of the markings and notations were familiar. As he expected, Cloud Ruler Temple was not indicated on the map. When he turned the tip of Shamir-Do’s tail was the only thing visible past Gjaever’s bulk as the two reached the door.

“Oh Kjestrid, hang on a moment,” Asgerd called. She picked up a cloth bundle.

Kjestrid took it. “Is this an emergency or can it wait a week? I have a project but I’ll rush yours if you need it.”

Asgerd made a dismissive gesture. “When you get to it.”

Jerric waited at the door for Kjestrid to pass through then fell in beside her. The stairs were built for Nords so they had plenty of elbow room. He eyed the cloth. Is that some other secret for the Blades?

“I’m a mender,” Kjestrid said before he could ask. “But not a mender.”

Jerric pondered that statement as they made the turn at the landing.

“Like you’re a battlemage but not a Legion Battlemage,” she explained.

“Oh,” said Jerric. “You’re not a guild Mender. Like every whore is not a Prostitute.”

Kjestrid gave a belly laugh. “I’ve never thought of it like that. You sure have a way with words.”

Jerric shook his head. Not a good way. “So you work with Jaan?”

“Sometimes.” She lifted Asgerd’s bundle. “Mostly I just take in simple repair work to use up my magicka in the evenings. It returns slowly and I don’t always have much left by then for mending.”

“Do you use spells when you fight?”

“Shields and a little healing when I need to stop a gusher.” She gave him a questioning glance.

“Uh, mostly frost and summoning. I can heal but you’d be better off waiting if it’s complicated. And of course my Woad. And I can mix a good potion if you don’t mind the taste.”

Kjestrid shot him a grin. “Good to know. You don’t look like an alchemist.”

They had reached the ground level. Jerric stopped while they still had a shred of privacy. “Well pretend I didn’t tell you if you don’t care for boasting, but I’m a Master Alchemist. Don’t worry, you don’t have to call me sir or anything.”

Kjestrid’s eyebrows went up.

“Born under the Atronach,” he explained. “Lots of practice. I have my own magicka problems.”

“Ooh,” Kjestrid drew out the word. “You’re one of those.”

Before he could ask her meaning they were swallowed by a group heading for the lower level. Kjestrid had left through the front door by the time he extricated himself.

The main level rapidly filled with militia members spreading bedrolls on the floor. They moved with the economy of exhaustion. Jerric stood in line for the privy then made his way to the barracks, feeling guilty over the bare mattress that awaited him. This morning’s deprivation now seemed like luxury.

The barracks were overfull with bedrolls spread on the floor between every cot. A grey-haired man had the spot in front of Jerric’s cupboard. Jerric gestured for him to get up, then he scooped the man’s blankets onto his bed and tossed his own bedroll to the floor in its place.

“Won’t have to wake you later,” Jerric muttered, opening the cupboard.

The man gave him a grateful nod. He was asleep before Jerric got his socks off.

Jerric stood in another line at the wash basins then headed back to his furs. The group’s mix of races and genders made him keep his drawers on for sleeping. In his experience it was rarely good manners to wander around bare-assed in front of a bunch of Imperials, even if they were all too tired to notice.

The floor made his bruises ache. Small lights glittered as someone comforted themself with a healing spell. Jerric didn’t want to spend the magicka. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

Dreams, he thought. What if I have the dreams? He did not want to wake shouting in a room full of strangers.

Jerric thought of Lildereth asleep in one of the Mages Guild’s big beds. In his mind she lay curled on her side with a hand folded under her cheek. Her hair made a soft fan across the pillow. She’d hardly notice if he slipped in beside her.

Her roommate might though. He doubted that Selena would welcome his presence in her bedchamber even if he managed to rest quietly.

Then he pictured the elf padding back across the corridor from Darnand’s chamber, thighs damp and hair mussed after a romp with the Breton. As unlikely as that seemed, once imagined it stuck in Jerric’s mind. He flipped onto his side and punched the floor a few times to distract himself. His sore thigh complained louder than his knuckles.

Fetch it. I’m going. He would be back in the morning before breakfast. All he needed for the short trip were boots and keys. Within moments Jerric found himself standing outside in the cold, the Mages Guild lights glowing onto the snow ahead.

Jerric glanced over at the brothel’s more austere front. It lacked the Mages Guild’s elaborate windows, but bright lanterns indicated that they were open for business.

Best not to think about it.

He took the steps in two leaps and opened the door.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” A blonde Nord woman greeted him from behind a short bar. A crackling fire and numerous oil lamps provided the light of early evening. With no windows it could have been any time of day. The air was warm enough to encourage undressing. It bore the scent of fresh-cut greenery typical of better brothels. Jerric supposed it must be the most effective for covering the smells of their trade.

He grinned. “I’m J… er, Kje… Say, if I was here stepping out on someone, you wouldn’t mention it, would you?”

The Nord placed a finger over her lips.

“All right, then.”

“I’m Bryndis, this is Carla, and that’s Amber on the settee. I know the others would love to make your acquaintance, if you’d care to see them.”

Jerric knew what that meant. “Pleased to meet you. No need to round everyone up. I see plenty I like already.”

Amber held a dulcimer across her lap. She smiled and began to play.

Jerric gave her a friendly nod. He turned his attention to the Breton.

Carla sat with her sandaled feet propped up on low table. Her gown was cut to show off her tight little curves, including a pregnant belly. She wore her dark hair gathered at the back of her head. Shadows danced in the hollows of her throat and collarbones. Jerric was aware that some men were not attracted to gravid females. His thin drawers allowed evidence that he was not among them.

“May I offer you a drink?” Carla rose with fluid grace. About five months along, Jerric decided. I guess she’s still working. Likely not the full menu.

“I’d better show you my purse before we get to the hospitality.” Jerric reached for the dagger he kept in his boot. “Will you take a trade? This wasn’t a stop I planned to make.”

Jerric placed the blade on the bar while the women exchanged a glance. He guessed that his lack of outerwear had been enough of a clue as to his intentions. Or perhaps they questioned his sanity strolling down the street at eleven bells with no shirt or socks.

“I’ll give you twenty Septims, Jerkje,” said Bryndis.

Jerric blinked. Scaly balls, she thinks that’s my name. “All right. What can I get for fifteen? I need some coin left over for a tip.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Bryndis purred. “Carla? He’s looking at you.”

Carla leaned on the bar. Her posture reminded Jerric of the things he liked best about pregnant women, though his budget would likely not allow a full appreciation.

“I’ll give you a tug for fifteen,” she said. “Tell you what, it’s been a slow night. I’ll throw in a slap on the backside for free, what do you say?”

Jerric grinned. “I say you have yourself a deal, ma’am.”

Carla tilted her head in mock surprise. “Did you just ma’am me? You must really want that spank.”

Jerric and Bryndis spent a moment trading coins while Carla filled a tankard. Guild regulations required that the transaction be made in actual gold to avoid accusations of unfair persuasion. In practice it seemed a useless rule. He doubted that anyone making a trade with Bryndis ever looked at the coins.

Carla made the most of handing him a filled tankard. “Northern Sunshine,” she said, sliding a palm across his belly. “The first pint’s on the house.”

“Uh,” said Jerric. “Can I take it back with me? We’d better, uh, get to it.”

“Right this way, sugar.” Carla took his arm, turning her body to give him a view as they walked. When they entered a corridor she expertly prevented him from crashing into the door frame.

Jerric had a thought. “What was all that slap on the rear talk? Was that a jest or is it code for something?” Northern Sunshine smelled like a hoppy lager. He took a swig.

Carla laughed. “It was a jest. What else did you think you were getting for fifteen Septims?”

Plus tip. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve been to Skingrad. Now when I don’t know I ask questions.” He considered while he slurped his beer. “Well, I’ll admit I was hoping for a peek.”

Carla opened her top without breaking stride. “A peek and a squeeze come with the tug. But let’s get the door closed first. Unless you like to leave it open.” She smiled up at him. They had stopped outside what he assumed was her chamber. “Are you sure you don’t have anything else tucked away where you had that dagger? I’m authorized to barter.”

Jerric held the door while she ducked under his arm. “Don’t I wish. Say, what will you give me for these drawers?”

Carla declined to make an offer on his undergarments, but Jerric soon decided that was the best twenty Septims he had ever spent. He declared himself a customer for life, wished health and happiness to Carla and her baby, and promptly forgot them both the instant he walked into the Mages Guild.

Ulfe sat facing the door in the middle of the empty lobby. When he approached she reared straight up on her hind legs and gently placed her paws on his shoulders.

“There’s a girl,” Jerric murmured, thumping her on the ribs. He bowed his head so she could sniff the top of his hair. He had no idea why she liked to do that, but in his opinion folk should be allowed to greet in whatever manner they saw fit.

He pulled off his boots halfway down the stairs when he realized the noise they made. Eldritch light shone under Volanaro’s door. Selena’s chamber was dark. So was Darnand’s.

Jerric slipped through Darnand’s door. Ulfe made him jump and stagger when she wiggled through his legs.

“I am awake,” said the Breton. Jerric caught the subtle gleam of a nighteye spell in the dark. Then Darnand uncovered a glow stone. He sat cross-legged on the bed surrounded by books, a charcoal pencil in his hand. Earana’s stolen notes lay in his lap.

Ulfe leaped onto Darnand’s bed. He lifted the more delicate materials to safety while she settled.

Jerric stood on the thick rug for a moment. The air here in the living quarters felt cold compared to the steam-heated brothel. He supposed that mages could supply their own comfort. What the hells am I doing here?

Darnand showed no reaction to Jerric’s appearance. He waved him to the closest bed. “I am ready to cease my endeavors for the night. Give me a moment to open the ink. I should like to hear more of your stories. I believe you intended to next tell me of Svanja and the ghost fox.”

Hi grits


Liz wanted me to tell you that she enjoyed the chapter, would like to hear about the ghost fox one day, and that the Northern Sunshine made her laugh

Yes, I believe you intend to tell us all about the Ghost Fox™ over numerous interludes and twenty thousand words...*Sighs contentedly*...Oh...Wait... ...Nevermind... ...

Awesome!!!!...Loves me Jerric...

Funny, clever, brilliant and just a little bit sexeh!!!... ...

But enough about Grits... ...WHAHEY!!...

The story is, as ever, amazing...

From the quiet start with the next day's coming mission, down to the 20 septims' worth of handiwork...An excellent one end of the spectrum to another...End... I'd say... ...Or something, I didn't really think that one through properly... ...Sorry...Pah...

Awesome stuff Gritseh!...

Oh, apologies again, I had read the other bits...I must have been on my idiot days again and not replied...Urgh...Always brilliant stuff though...

Excellent to see it posting again!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

“You’re one of those.”
Somehow I bet Jerric gets that a lot...

I see you been reading your History of the Fighters Guild, where it mentions that prostitutes have a guild too. I liked the guild regulation about gold, that was nice touch.

Well I guess this time Jerric wasn't just sparring with another female in the Fighters Guild! Five months? To be honest I am surprised it took Jerric that long, given his history. Even if it was just a tug, and not a drill.

Secret Agent Jerkje getting briefed on a ‘transfer’ mission up to CRT. I like how the FG and the Blades clearly have some type of arrangement ongoing.

Aww, I like how his big heart is so understated as he gives his bed to the old tired soldier.

Okay, it was a bad idea thinking about Lil while trying to get comfy on the floor. But. . . it was a good idea to pop in at the PG on the way from the FG to the MG. Much better than knocking on Lil’s (and Selena’s) door and asking “Can you fix this?”

I’m wondering if Jerric is just suspicious, or if there is some Blades involvement here.

Whores and prostitutes!

…it was rarely good manners to wander around bare-assed in front of a bunch of Imperials…


The captain might not want to see that.

I never thought of a healing spell as providing comfort. I know for aches and bruises, but what for just feeling good? It might help ease some tension.

Jerric jealous of Darnand? Hardly seems fair when Jerric’s whored his way from one side of the Gold coast to the other and D gets lucky once.

Typical Oblivion moment, offering to sell worn clothing to a merchant!

Heh. Jerric might not have known why he went to the MG, but Darnand knew.

Nit first, just to get it out of the way: Jerric's drink changes its name from Northern Sunshine to Double Sunshine. I prefer the former, as double doesn't seem to fit anything.

Jerric and Darnand haven't changed, and neither has Ulfe. I'm always amazed how much character Ulfe shows in so few lines!

I was a bit lost as to what the "stolen notes" were, until I read back a bit. Since Jerric had recently broken into Jeanne's desk, I had to think twice about what they were and where they got them. Could you add a bit more hint, (or post more often, so I don't forget)?

What's with it with Blades and packages?

Where Jerric walks, no humanoid with teats and female parts is safe. Hells, he doesn't even have to be near one to be thinking of one.



Whores and prostitutes . . . does one go for free and the other one demands payment?

In any case, even staying in the Guildhall the brothel and the wanton wares called to Jerric like sugar does a khajiit. I see Jerric has a thing for females that are prego judging by what I believed was the stiffening of what's between his legs. A tug for fifteen isn't too expensive even with the backside slap being a mere tease, but who needs that when he gets beautiful sights to see and things to squeeze?

As always we're given a humorous and fun to read chapter on our adventuring friends! Nice work!

Previously: Bruma. Darnand, Lildereth, and Ulfe are staying at the Mages Guild. Jerric is staying at the Fighters Guild posing as Darnand’s hired guard. Jerric learned that he is expected to report to Cloud Ruler Temple during his stay in Bruma. He is instructed to break off from the Fighters Guild’s Echo Cave patrol when they reach Rielle. Kjestrid, Gjaever, and Shamir-Do will finish the job and return without him. Last night Jerric slipped over to the Mages Guild to sleep, stopping on the way to unburden himself at the brothel. Since he didn’t bother to get dressed or bring his coin purse for the short dash, he traded his boot dagger for services.


King of Beasts: Hi Kobby! Thanks for relaying the message.

Elisabeth Hollow: I have to start my notes on Darnand’s book for Jerric. So far there are two Jerric’s Story’s Stories. Thanks, Elisabeth!

McBadgere: Thank you, McB! Abiene’s Hackdirt interlude is also tickling my imagination, but I might put that in the Postcards thread instead. I’m afraid I’ll start it and then take a year to tell the whole thing.

SubRosa: Jerric’s been relying on self-service for about two story weeks since he left Abiene in Chorrol. You’re so right, he would never have made it five months. I should probably add a timeline to the Darnandex. And not just to keep track of the Nord’s assignations. Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: Well, Jerric has made some pretty big mistakes with Lil, but at least he didn’t add a hands-free knock on her door at midnight to the list. Yet. Thank you very much for pointing out the exchange with the tired soldier. That was his truest moment in a very Jerric episode.

King Coin: There’s definitely a connection with the Blades and the Bruma Fighters Guild, but he’ll have to get the details from the Blades. And yes, he’s also getting paranoid. I loved a chance to show Darnand being quietly awesome. Thank you, KC!

ghastley: Oops, Double Sunshine is a real IPA from Vermont. Thanks for catching that! I went back and clarified that the notes were Earana’s, but I’m working on Plan B (post more often )(starting now ). Thank you, ghastley!

Darkness Eternal: Lol, Jerric was trying to demonstrate to Kjestrid that he was listening (because he’s observed that women like that) by providing another example, but of course he didn’t quite say what he meant. Thank you, DE!


Next: Morning after. This part was getting quite long, so I chopped it up and now it is a bit short. There’s a Bosmer and Nord joke there somewhere, but I’m a little too scared of Lildereth to make it.

Chapter 17: Bruma, Part Eight

Jerric stepped outside under the fading stars of early morning. It had snowed during the night. Street sweepers moved along behind their wide brushes, just starting to clear the cobbled steps and walkways. Jerric huffed out a cloud and looked through it at the quiet city.

First Seed, he thought. In Anvil they’ll be fishing for soft-shelled crabs. He kept his mind from turning to Kvatch.

A woman approached along his terrace from the chapel side of town, footsteps crunching in the fresh snow. Bare-headed and blonde like nearly half of Bruma’s population. Her long strides were already familiar.

“Kjestrid of the Fighters Guild,” Jerric called out to her in greeting.

“Kjellingsson of Anvil.” Kjestrid stopped at the foot of the Mages Guild steps. She took in his morning hair and bare limbs with a smile. “Doing the walk of shame?”

“Uh,” said Jerric. He scratched his head and then his belly while Kjestrid stood back watching. Her smile turned into a grin. “It’s not what you think,” he finally managed.

“You didn’t just spend the night with your boss?”

“Well, yeah, I did.” Jerric joined her on the street level.

“Good, I didn’t take you for a fibber. Want to go for a run? I’m meeting Jaan. We’ll be back in time to dry off and then start our patrol.” Kjestrid reached out and brushed a hand down Jerric’s arm. “Look, we tease, but we don’t mean a thing by it. You could be bedding the whole Elder Council for all I care. We don’t pay much mind to your Heartlander ways up here. A man is judged by his deeds, not by his rings and robes.”

Jerric’s best guess was that she referred to Darnand’s role as his social better, and that was a knot he should avoid untangling. “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. A run would be great.”

Kjestrid started moving toward the Fighters Guild. Jerric fell into step at her side. “Jaan doesn’t look like much of a runner,” he ventured.

“Neither do bears, but I wouldn’t want to take one on in a foot race.”

Jerric decided not to debate sprints versus distance until he had downed some kahve and formed a better idea whether Kjestrid and Jaan could run his legs off. “Say, what does that orc cook for breakfast?”

Kjestrid looked like she was going to tease again but then changed her mind. “Anyway, it’s like my Ma always said. Det som göms i snö kommer fram vid tö.”

“Yeah,” said Jerric, utterly confused. “Uh, my Ma used to say that too.”

Kjestrid squinted her eyes at him. “Well, now I’ve seen you try to lie. You’ve never heard that expression, have you?”

Jerric shook his head. “I need a nap already. You remind me of my sister.”

“She must be a marvelous person,” Kjestrid laughed. “Let’s get inside.” She trotted up the Fighters Guild steps.

“Apples!” Jerric said to her back. His knowledge of the Nordic language was limited, but he was not above a guess. If she had the breath to talk while they ran he would be in trouble. Kjestrid opened the door for him before he could grab it. “It was something about snow or apples.”

The Fighters Guild main level resembled a kicked-over diggerbee nest as the militia prepared for departure. A steady stream of folk issued forth from the basement stairs. Kjestrid tilted her head toward the kitchen and set off in that direction.

Jerric didn’t need encouragement to follow. The main hall’s air had been breathed too many times. He couldn’t even smell the kahve until they reached the middle of the corridor.

In the kitchen Vito grated potatoes while Bugshat brushed glaze over a tray of pastries. The castle feeds the militia, Jerric remembered, counting sweetrolls. He hoped the lower level would have cleared out before he had to collect his gear.

Kjestrid took three mugs from their pegs and filled them from a kettle hanging near the fire. She moved to a far counter well out of Bugshat’s way to add milk and sugar. While she stirred one cup she shot an inquiring glance at Jerric.

It took a moment for him to catch up with the situation. “Uh, is one of those for me? No thanks. I mean yes, please, no thanks to the…” He gave his head a vigorous, two-handed scratch. “Just black. Thank you, Kjestrid.”

Jaan shouldered past Jerric and accepted his cup from Kjestrid. A look passed between the two of them. Jaan nodded.

“Jaan of the Basement,” Jerric grunted. He took his kahve from Kjestrid’s warm hand while he returned the big smith’s glare.

“Kjellingsson.” Jaan looked Jerric over from uncombed beard to bare knee. His bushy eyebrows made the remark.

“Join you this morning?” Jerric gritted through his teeth. The man put him on edge. He resolved that before he left Bruma Jaan would get a beating. After he got his sword back.

“Quarter hour,” said Jaan.

Kjestrid walked over to chat with Bugshat.

“Loredas,” Jaan muttered into his kahve. He snorted.

Jerric thumped his mug onto the counter. “Right. Let’s go.”

“Outside,” Bugshat growled at them.

Jaan led the way out the back door and through the kitchen yard. Jerric followed, cracking his knuckles. The door swung shut on his heels and stayed closed. It seemed a brawl before breakfast did not gain much notice at the Bruma Fighters Guild.

They circled for the space of a breath. Jerric jabbed at Jaan’s chin and landed a hook to the gut before Jaan plucked him off of his feet and put him face-first into a snowbank. Damn, that was fast. Jaan worked Jerric’s ribs while Jerric thrashed and ate snow. Jaan let him up before Jerric had to swallow too much of it. He had to admit that given the chance he would have kept Jaan down longer.

Should have buckled my boots, Jerric thought, dumping ice out of one. Jaan reached out to steady him when he wobbled. A slap on the shoulder confirmed peace between them. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t liked the man.

Kjestrid was leaving the kitchen when they returned. “Meet you out front,” she sang over her shoulder.

Yep. Just like Svanja. Jerric gulped his kahve and followed Jaan back through the main hall and down to the living quarters. They parted ways in the lower corridor, Jerric ducking into the now empty barracks and Jaan heading off to chambers unknown.

Before he dressed Jerric packed for the Echo Cave patrol and climb to Cloud Ruler Temple. The two months he had spent alone in the wilderness before he returned to Anvil had taught him how to live without the support of a chuck wagon. His hand axe, bedroll, ground cloth, and skitt shovel were already secured to his pack. He tucked in his skillet and smallest cookpot, leaving room for provisions. Then he readied his arming hose and doublet for a quick change when he returned from morning exercise.

A Bruma spring is the West Weald’s winter, Jerric thought, digging through his clothing for a running kit. Wool socks and his lightest woolen undertunic would wick sweat away and keep him from chilling. His spare leggings needed a wash. They would do for this morning. He laced a quilted vest over the tunic and bent to fasten his boots.

My ‘lucky’ boots, Jerric thought, grinning. The enchantment to enhance his speed would be most welcome this morning. He would like to impress Kjestrid, or at least for once look a little less foolish. The situation was dire. Any kind of cheating would be acceptable.

Jaan stuck his head through the doorway without speaking. That’s my traveling music. Jerric followed him up the stairs and back out into the crisp Bruma morning.

Well, that was pretty special... ...




...I like that muchly...

Loving the atmosphere of Bruma and the Fighters Guild place...

Loved the brief nod to Anvil and the reminder of where it all came from...

The manleh clearing of the air via a manleh brawl was excellently done...Nothing produces mutual respect better than the realisation that the other one could conceivably leather the crap out of you in a full-on drawn-out knock-down fight... ...

As ever...Hugely looking forward to seeing much more...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Nice reminder of that earlier episode where Jerric finds out what the enchantment actually was.

Does this all mean that he gets his sword back sooner, now Jaan's come around?