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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-201-09-08 06:23
The Copper Cask Inn, Darkwater, Eastmarch, Skyrim
I'm a little ashamed of my panical behavior yesterday. Was it really so awful? In this peaceful village, nothing seems frightening, not even a dragon circling back and forth in the distance.
Other than the grumpy shopkeeper, everyone in Darkwater is really amicable. (One would expect shopkeepers to be convivial, maybe even obsequious, but in Skyrim, some of the surliest people you meet are shopkeepers.)
I pick up a bounty letter at the inn. The jarl of Eastmarch wants a giant killed in a place called Broken Limb Camp. It's north from here. Eldergleam Sanctuary where we were yesterday is roughly halfway between it and Darkwater. That's where we're heading after I've checked out a waterfall nearby. No sign of any missing person. There's another waterfall further up, but I don't see how I could get there from here without lengthy exploration.
We pass by that hunter camp we saw yesterday. I go to check it out and am attacked by three naked hunters who apparently live there. A moment later, my followers arrive and kill the hunters with efficient deadly routine.
It's not me who is glowing in the enemy color, it's the hunter who stands between me and Jenassa.
I don't know why they were hostile. Got to remember to stay away from this place in the future in case it should get reinhabited. There's no point killing those poor stupid savages.
I arrive at the Broken Limb Camp ahead of my followers. I'm on top of a hill at some distance from the camp. I can see two giants. My position is ideal. They would need a lot of time to climb up to where I am. I'm quite far, but visibility is perfect and they're large, so I have no difficulty hitting them. They don't stand a chance. I'm not sure they even saw where I was before it was too late.
In order to collect my reward, I'd have to travel to Windhelm to our northeast. It's reasonably close, but I'm reluctant to go there. It's an important city and Jenassa agrees with my gut feeling that we would likely find many things to do there that would tie us up for a considerable time. I have other plans. I want to report to Danica in Hviterun, bring Pelin Varlais his sword back and above all get Kharjo's amulet which, as you may remember, is in a place west of Hviterun. That's why I decide to give Windhelm a miss for the time being and head back to Hviterun.
First, though, we'll go a little way to the north to check out a watermill which is right here, across the river. This is the shortest path to the Windhelm–Hviterun highway as well. We can see from here that the riverbanks are very high in the westerly direction, but near the mill they aren't:
We descend the hill. The river is not wide here, but the current is very fast. It would be extremely difficult to try and swim across in armor, as well as dangerous because we can see the river turn into a waterfall downstream not far from here. There's a man on the opposite bank. He's going to see us naked, but it can't be helped. We strip and get into the water. Strangely enough, the man runs to the river and jumps into the water too. He is swiftly carried away by the current and disappears in the direction of the waterfall. Did he want something from us or was he just enjoying the swim? Your guess is as good as mine.
At the mill we meet a woman named Gilfre. This is the second watermill I see that is kept by a woman. I wonder why. Gilfre explains: men ran off to war. "Idiots with mead in their blood," as she puts it. Yes, that's the Nord men. I'm not sure how much actual blood they have in their veins. Elves are so much more sensible. Albeit ugly. And haughty. And, come to think of it, maybe they're not so sensible and maybe the Nords are not so stupid. Maybe I was just trying to be witty.
On our way to Hviterun, we have to pass by Fort Amol again, but we don't encounter anyone this time.
Between Fort Amol and Valtheim. I've no idea what it is.
At Valtheim nothing stirs either.
I don't want to spend much time in Hviterun. I report to the steward Proventus on the destruction of the Valtheim bandits, gently excuse myself when Farengar tries to make conversation, and give Danica that tree sap which will enable her to bring Hviterun's sacred tree back to life. As I had quietly hoped, Danica doesn't need the Nettlebane and allows me to keep it permanently. I can only confirm what I told you two weeks ago – it's a really good weapon, handy and deadly. It's light and sits comfortably in my hand, yet cuts easily through everything, not just holy trees.
On the marketplace, I hear that the blacksmith Eorlund Gray-Mane, Fralia's husband, is dead. I won't stick around to enquire how it happened, as I'm eager to proceed to Varlais. I can't, however, avoid having a brief chat with Ysolda.
Yes she has slept with Jon Battle-Born. She has only good words to say about him: always courteous and respectful, and takes no for an answer. He's even cool about Olfina and Carlotta mocking him all the time.
"What do you think of Mikael?" I ask.
"Pfft! Mikael is a poser. But Jon makes you feel at ease."
"So why did you break up?"
"We didn't. We never had anything to break up. He made it clear right from the start that he was not interested in going steady."
"So it was just one time?"
"Yes. We had a great time and he made me feel good, and that was it. There are girls with whom he sleeps again from time to time, but I don't want that."
After a moment of silence, Ysolda asks:
"What about you?"
"I don't like his beard," I reply without a second thought.
"You don't like his beard?" She looks at me with amusement.
"Yes, I don't like bearded men! Beards are silly."
"So if he had no beard, you would have gone with him that night he was chatting you up at the inn?"
I shrug. "Maybe. Why should it matter? The world is full of men." Suddenly I get suspicious. "Why is it important to you?"
Ysolda pats me and laughs. "Relax, Laura! I'm not recruiting for him."
I laugh also. We chat a little more and then I find my followers and we run west.
Varlais lies behind a tunnel that goes through a mountain. The place itself is also surrounded by mountains on every side. There's a large castle. The gate is guarded by two High Elves. They look like thalmors. I feel like a child approaching a big dog whose owner assures it won't bite.
The guards open the gate, but won't talk to us.
The landlord Pelin Varlais is right there in the front courtyard. He's so happy to get his sword back that he rewards us with a whopping 6000 septims. Wow. Thanks. We must come back here someday to see if he has some more work he needs done.
There would surely be enough space for the four of us to sleep here, but I don't want to stay. We have a little daylight left, possibly not enough to travel all the way to Bilegulch-whatever (that's where Kharjo's amulet appears to be), but I'm sure we can comfortably reach the town of Northkeep, spend the night there and hit the road early tomorrow morning. No point hanging around here.
Shortly before the intersection from where a road would lead southwards to Northkeep, we see imps and storks going at each other. It's much more than a simple skirmish between highway patrols. There's more than ten soldiers on each side. Maybe it doesn't sound much to you, but I assure you that it takes a lot of effort to bludgeon a dozen armored and shielded and fighting-back men to death – even when some of them are women. Which some of them unfortunately are.
The main group is fighting right in the middle of the road, and two smaller ones are somewhat further away. Me and my followers take seats on the slope at the roadside and watch how they slash away furiously at each other while the wounded scream in agony and the ones who are still standing just scream at the enemy. Yes, it's horrible, but there's nothing we can do about it. So we rest our legs and observe the soldiers and their surroundings turning darker as the sun is going down.
They take their time. Finally the imps walk away victorious and we descend to loot the corpses.
By the way... I've been calling Stormcloaks "storks" for short, but did you know that the stork is really a mythological bird? It's white and quite big, with a very long beak. As far as I know, they don't exist in the real world. Just thought I'd mention it, in case you're interested.
On the road to Northkeep, we encounter a group of people on their way to Solitud. They seem to know Vittoria Vici, that high-scale racketeer I met in the harbor. Two of the group are a married couple in expensive clothes and a corresponding attitude. If you want to hear my opinion, then they shouldn't be so haughty when they can't even afford to travel by horse-cart. But I won't hold it against them. Maybe they're just in a bad mood today – they're not only scornful with us, they're bickering with each other too.
It's half past 8 when we arrive in Northkeep. We're not staying here. After all, Aurora is not far. It's best to spend the night there. Then I'll have sufficient time for smithing, and I'll be able to bring Selyse her stuff in the morning, after which we can travel west.
We stop at the Half-Moon Mill to see Hert. We get to make the acquaintance of Hert's husband Hern. He happens to mention he visited a curious village called Outcast Valley recently. It's southeast of Hviterun. The entrance is just across the river, through a cave. It's completely unknow to me – and, astonishingly, to Lydia and Jenassa. I decide to check it out one of these days.
Then we proceed to Aurora and go to sleep at the inn.
next awakening
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