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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
4-202-04-30 06:26
Jerall View Inn, Bruma, Bruma County, Cyrodiil
I dreamed of what happened just after I had arrived in Skyrim from Hammerfell. As I told you a few days ago, I was caught by a group of Stormcloaks. The Imperials' scout party led by Tullius had a mage with them. When they recognized Ulfric, the mage cast a special spell (maybe a kind of ward; I don't know really) to prevent Ulfric from using his deadly shout on them. When Ulfric unsuspectingly attempted just that, his shout knocked out everyone in our group instead. And the mage. But not the Imperial soldiers, because they were neither in the immediate vicinity of Ulfric nor magically connected to him through the spell. Tullius ordered them to bind Ulfric's mouth. He decided the capture of the enemy leader was important enough to take a break from their search for the Dragonborn. (He had no reason to suspect I was it, and the mage who might have was out cold.) So they requisitioned a couple of horsecarts from the village of Pinewood and Tullius rode ahead to Helgen to make preparations for the execution. That's where his regional headquarters was. Helgen was the best-fortified settlement far and wide, with the possible exception of Northkeep whose population's loyalty was questionable, though.
As concerns Lokir, he just happened to be in the area. He noticed how the Imperials left their horses at the roadside southwest of Pinewood and tried to steal one of them, but got caught.
Why was I the only one to get amnesia, you may ask. I don't know. Maybe the gods wanted to prevent the Imperial mage, after he would come to, from reading my mind and learning I was Dragonborn. But I'm only guessing.
After a bath and breakfast (yes, preceded by the inevitable morning sex), the merry company of me, my followers, our boyfriends Dar'taqto, Ambric, Gryfard and Roland, and our friends Janieta, Ila, Rilja, Eddvia and Hulgard walks out the northern city gate.
The sugary mountain far beyond Rielle seems particularly beautiful to me this morning.
It fills me with joy that we're having such fine weather on our hike towards the Pale Pass.
We step briefly in to the Snowstone Rest inn to say goodbye, and do the same at the Fort Pale Pass. Then we all hug farewell and me and my girls cross the border. Everything is peaceful on the other side for a change. The Thalmor Checkpoint is securely in Imperial hands. The weather is still nice when we reach Fort Neugrad. The soldiers are kept very busy with drills and such, so we feel a little silly just idling around, which is why we move on soon towards the Falkreath Stormcloak Camp. A snowfall starts before we reach it.
Passing by Haemar's Shame on our way to The Rift, I think why not go in and kill the bandits while we're here. Turns out there are actually vampires in there. At the farther end is a hall with a large statue of a man and a dog. It's Clavicus Vile, as I already know from our trip to Summerset.
We go out again and proceed eastwards through the mountain pass. Our first destination on the eastern side of the mountains is The Naked Dragon Riften.
When I tell the doorkeeper who I am and that we want to search their establishment for any possible traces of Maven Black-Briar, he asks me to wait and calls the proprietress, a middle-aged woman. She insists they would never harbor any criminals, but realizes I won't be stopped.
This brothel is somewhat less stunning than the one in Markarth. It's very roomy. There's a hall with a large bar. A passage leads to another hall with many plants and girls and stuff. Um... let me rephrase that. Or, well, you get the idea. What's really important is that they openly sell skooma here. With a very authoritative air, I order a servant to summon the proprietress again. She seems to sense by the look on my face that this is serious. Indeed, it is. I inform her that skooma is now prohibited in Skyrim. Should any be found here on one of the subsequent inspections, the proprietress and any number of highest-ranking employees present will be executed and the brothel itself given to new proprietors, unless it turns out the ostensible offence was really somebody's malicious provocation. Right now, she will get away by handing me over all the skooma and in addition paying its 10-fold sales value as a fine.
She doesn't even look too angry. I guess she's smart enough to realize when she's trapped. Or the business is so profitable that this fine doesn't matter much. I don't care. I just take the money and I'll bring to to Yrsarald.
Then we take a tour of the rear part of the establishment. Of course, there aren't many customers this early.
[series of 5 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then click again to see the next picture etc.; press Esc to return to the text]
Compared to the Markarth branch, the girls look somewhat less happy and eager here. But I might be mistaken. I'm really no expert on prostitute psychology.
Back in the open air, in the midst of birches and birdsong, I decide we shall not make a detour via Riften. We'll travel straight to the north-northeast towards Mixwater Mill and Windhelm. More precisely, we're going to Ivarsted first.
I have promised in the past I'll make time to talk about Fastred's relationship prospects and such with her and Lynly. (She has decided to stick with this name, because her real name Svidi would remind her too much of her former life she wants to leave behind.) This is what we're going to do now. Wilhelm kindly allows Lynly to take the evening off and we walk around on this and the other side of the river.
That's the house of Temba who owns the sawmill you can see in the next picture.
Now, I am ready to take Fastred to Riften or Hviterun any moment, but the other girls argue that her parents need her. They would probably be able to take care of the farm without her for some years to come, but obviously not forever. I remain unshakable. It's their own fault they haven't made more children, and it's the normal, expectable course of things that a girl leaves home and moves away with her husband. No needs of her parents can justify Fastred's remaining without children forever. However, the others (most importantly Fastred herself) disagree with me. Only Jordis seems ambivalent.
Now, what prospects may she have in Ivarsted? Lynly thinks Klimmek is in love with Fastred. It's the guy who brings supplies to the Gaybores every week or so. He has a most curious amulet that keeps the trolls from attacking him. But that's neither here nor there. The important thing is he seems awfully old to me. I refrain from saying so, in case Fastred should fancy her. But the main problem is that he seems too shy to actually approach Fastred and chat her up. And that's something we can't do on his behalf.
So we fail to come to any conclusion.
To our left is the ruined shack where the unfortunate madman Narfi lives.
We're not dropping in to say hello. The sight of six young women might be too much for him.
We're not dropping in to say hello. The sight of six young women might be too much for him.
At 9 o'clock Fastred has to return home. Lydia asks me where in Skyrim I was actually headed when I came from Hammerfell eight months ago.
"Winterhold," I reply. "Somebody there was supposed to tell me what to do. Don't ask me who."
"Maybe Tolfdir."
"Maybe. But I lost my memory and then I got caught up in all those Hviterun affairs and then the Gaybores summoned me..." I realize Lynly is still there.
She stares at me with her eyes wide open. "Did you just call them Gaybores?" And then she bursts into howling laughter that might well be audible all the way to Sunguard City. She ends up literally rolling on the ground, holding her stomach. Several guards come running and we have all our hands full assuring them Lynly is fine, she's just laughing at something I told her about something that happened to me in Hviterun.
Finally, Lynly composes herself and we help her up and dry her tears. When she has come to her senses, or almost, I implore her not to tell anyone. She says not to worry, she knows how horribly serious the Nords are about the Ga... Greybeards. And now we're all in stitches. The guards just walk past shaking their heads and probably reflecting you can't expect sensible behavior from a group of females.
Having regained our composure, we stroll to the inn. What a delightful weather we are having!
"Laura, what will you give me if I tell you a good pretext for visiting all the other brothels in Skyrim?" asks Jordis when we're undressing in our room to go to sleep.
"Um... I can order Gregor to lick you down there."
"Come on..."
I know. It's not the same when the man doesn't really want to do it. "How about I promise I'll come back to Skyrim for your birthday?" That'll be a little less than 7 months from now.
"I'd love that."
"Well, what's the pretext?"
"Can't you really guess?"
I shrug.
"To search for skooma," she says.
Wow. Of course. Why didn't I think of it myself?
next awakening
