Having saved Ysolna from the Forsworn, Hild has agreed to help her return home to Whiterun
As the miners woke early, so did Hild. If they weren't quiet about their night time activities he shouldn't have been surprised that they would be just as careful while they washed, dressed and ate. Finding it pointless to try and block out the noise, Hild got up with them, nodding politely to the partners he'd joined earlier. He was easily accepted into the group, used as they were to travellers, he mostly remained silent as he listened in to the gossip. Most of it was useless, discussions over who mined the most ore, when they would next get a break and the new shafts that would be dug. However, there was some talk that piqued his interest.
"Seems summat has stirred up the Forsworn, what's left of them anyway," a burly Nord spoke nonchalantly, "the Imperials have mostly rooted out the last of the Reachmen, but someone killed their leader during one of their 'parties'," the group laughed, infuriating Hild who hated to hear the way in which the Forsworn used their women dismissed so nonchalantly.
If everyone knew what went on, why did they let it? The 'at least it's not me or mine' attitude won out again.
"Apparently it were part of their rituals, and now they will not rest until his slayer is dead. Personally," the Nord grunted, burping as he drank his morning ale, "I reckon it were some inter-clan thing, Forsworn bumping off Forsworn to gain leadership."
"Hopefully Jarls of Markarth and Solitude will send patrols," the Orc piped up, "was about time they finished those savages off. When I was in the legion..."
The others groaned and began bustling to quickly finish their morning preparations. It was clear that Grhazub often told these tales, but Hild was interested.
"We were once deployed from Evermor to the Hammerfell border, reports of tribes making border raids. Those curved swords of theirs might scare a hold guard, but the legion was made of sterner stuff. Our captain, a Breton, had us wait until the tribes were sleeping before we went in and finished off anyone still standing. The night guards didn't stand a chance as we displayed no light, we had the Khajit soldiers lead us, using their night eyes. It was glorious."
Wanting to ask more questions Hild was disappointed when everyone began to leave.
Following behind as he dressed, Hild noted a spare pair of miner's clothes left behind. Hiding them underneath his armour, he didn't know why he took them, but he felt they could be useful.
Leaving the barracks, he noted Ysolna already waiting on the porch of the house she'd slept in.
"I hope you had a better night than I," she greeted Hild, albeit quietly so as not to offend her hosts, "those children did not sleep and, even with a guest present Eola and her husband rutted half the night. Honestly, inappropriate would be too kind a word for it."
"You wouldn't have been any better off," he chuckled, "I can assure you of that."
Before she could ask any questions the aforementioned Eola called for them both as she exited the hall.
"My husband is preparing your horse," she announced cheerfully, "he has been fed and watered so should be ready."
Hild surprised their host by bowing as deeply as his armour would allow.
"We are grateful for your hospitality Lady Eola. It is a lovely name, where is it from?"
"Oh," going red, she chattered nervously, "I believe my sire had a friend of that name, a victim of the Forsworn I think. He always said she was the sort of person you could just eat right up."
As Horse was brought before them, Hild slipped their host a bag of coin.
"You have our thanks. Come Ysolna," he commanded politely, "we make for Old Hroldan by the end of the day."
Although confused, Ysolna mounted the horse, Hild noting how much more easily she managed now since Mara's blessing and could not help but notice how shapely she was. Going red, he mounted Horse and, with one final thanks, headed towards the main path.
"Why did you tell them we were heading to Old Hroljan?" His companion quizzed.
"I do not know them," he answered simply, "and so I do not trust them. Even if they are not friends of the Forsworn they could be allies of bandits. We should reach Rorikstead tonight, where we may need to rest a day before carrying onto Whiterun, as Horse may not have the energy to outrun anyone should we need it on the plains to Whiterun."
"Is that wise? I have heard tales of how Rorikstead remains so successful and, well," she gulped, "the tales do not please me."
"Nor I," Hild admitted, "but we do not have a choice unless we camp on the open fields, and that pleases me less."
------------------------------------------
Having set off at dawn they stopped mid-morning by a small pond, Horse drinking deeply as his two riders talked little.
"I don't like the look of that tower up ahead," Hild admitted to his companion, spying the building a small way up, "if there were to be an ambush, that would be where I'd choose."
"What choice do we have?" Ysolna asked. "No way Horse has the energy to climb fast with two of us onboard, no matter how hardy the horses in Skyrim are."
"I have an idea," he admitted, looking at the tower he appeared to be calculating something, "but if it goes wrong, you ride Horse onto Rorikstead."
"I can help..." Ysolna began before being interrupted.
"You're no use to anyone dead. I won't have our effort wasted because of your stubbornness. Now," looking in a bag, Hild grinned widely, "do you know how to use a crossbow?"
It took fifteen minutes to creep up on the tower, pleased he only needed one Invisibility potion as he used the rugged terrain to keep himself hidden. Wearing a leather jerkin he kept spare, he could see Ysolna coming up on Horse wearing his steel armour. It was a risk, but if it kept her safe it was worth it.
The tower had only one entrance and exit at ground level, and Hild hid behind a corner waiting for the door to open. If it didn't, all was fine and they could keep going, but if he was right...
He sighed reluctantly as the door banged open, three figures pouring out of it.
"You picked a bad time to get lost, friend," an Orc called out, banging his axe on his shield.
"They'll be so much easier to rob when they're dead," a Khajit laughed, his longbow aimed directly at Ysolna.
The third one never spoke a word, her throat slit as Hild snuck up behind her. As the Khajit turned he thrust his sword through the gaps in his leather armour, causing the cat to collapse as Hild removed his blade. The Orc, however...
"Lookee here," the Orc sneered, "looks like we got ourselves a hero."
More heavily armoured than his friends, this was the very situation Hild had wanted to avoid without his armour. His sword banged onto his opponent's shield, before he avoided the slice of the axe by jumping back.
"This won't go well for..."
The Orc tried to continue his threat, except a bolt was now protruding from his mouth. Looking past him, Hild could see Ysolna holding the crossbow aimed directly towards them, yet what he noticed first was the shaking.