Syrim - a Warrior's Adventure

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."

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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.

Running up to her, as the Orc fell to the ground dead, Ysolna practically fell from Horse into Hild's arms, shaking and crying as she did so.

"I didn't, I haven't, what have I..." she burbled, her eyes open wide, tears beginning to pour, "I've never, he was going to, I couldn't not..."

"Shush," Hild consoled, holding her closely, "you did what you had to do. It was him or us. This time, you saved me."

She didn't speak, instead Hild feeling her tears covering his shoulder. They stayed that way until her eyes dried up, more likely for a lack of fuel than the shock ending.

"I know it was horrible, but we need to move past it." Although keen to loot the tower, he knew that he couldn't with Ysolna in this state. Her safety was more important than finding something good to sell on. "Ysolna," taking her by the arms, he bent until his eyes looked directly into hers, "you did nothing wrong. He was not a good person, and we need to get going."

As he held her he couldn't help notice how shapely her face was, her lips luscious, her nose attractively wide, her eyes, a piercing blue. In return, she was staring into his brown eyes, noting how femine he was underneath the hard exterior, like many imperials, except this one seemed different...

Feeling a horrible wet feeling in his ear, Hild turned to see Horse's teeth inches from his face.

"Okay," the spell broken, he cleared his throat, "even Horse knows we need to get going. Are you going to argue with him?"

A sly smile couldn't fully cover the disappointment in Ysolna's face, but she nodded.

"I will not." Looking at the tower, a thought struck her, "Do you not want to see if there's anything exciting in there?"

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Ten minutes later the Tower was stripped of its possessions, a good amount of food, even a few potions, about a hundred gold coins and, most excitingly, some magical gauntlets. As they carried on through the mountain pass Ysolna admired them.

"I've never seen Ebony armour before," she admitted, "never mind magical armour. How do they even work?"

"Not a clue," Hild admitted, "but if I put them on then my stamina improves, so I can run and fight for longer, so I will not turn down such a treasure."

"I doubt you've ever had a problem with stamina," she laughed, "I can't imagine your sword would run out of energy."

Although unable to see his face, it was clear that Hild's ears had turned red.

"I, well, yes, I suppose," he cleared his throat, "I do what is expected of me."

Grinning, Ysolna admired the view around them. They had reached the peak of their path and the plains lay ahead of them. Although geographically they still had an incredibly long distance to go, she felt better knowing they were out of the Reach.

It was early evening and Rorikstead was nearly in touching distance, yet they were forced to halt.

"Giant's," Hild whispered unnecessarily, the size of the creatures making them quite visible despite the approaching dark, "we either wait, or we go round."

Watching as two of them walked past, one of them carrying a club while the other dragged a cow by its legs, he surmised they were heading to their camp. If they waited, they'd be safe from the giants but would likely have to finish their journey in the dark, while continuing would get them to Rorikstead sooner if they weren't ground to a pulp if they startled the giants.

"Horse won't be able to run faster with even one of us on his back, the poor things so exhausted."

Without much other choice, they crept forward slowly until the Giant's camp came into view. As the creatures headed off to their home, leaving the main road, Hild made the decision to ride past as they were practically behind them. To their relief, the giants paid no attention to them and it was barely half an hour later they arrived in the village.

"My Grandfather says he remembers when it was much smaller," Ysolna told Hild as they were ushered through the gates, "no walls or blacksmith."

"Well I for one am glad it does now," he laughed, "it gives us somewhere to sleep peacefully and hopefully sell some of our valuables."

Unlike in Karthwasten where, despite initial uncertainty from the Lady of the hold, they were treated warmly, they quickly did not feel that way here, with even the guards staring at them suspiciously.

"We'll head straight to the Inn and get out of view," Hild advised uneasily, "we'll even see what news we can learn."

Leaving Horse tied up outside the Frostfruit Inn, they entered and were greeted by a frosty reception by the patrons present.

"Welcome travellers," the Innkeeper greeted them, "what brings you to ole Rorikstead?"

"Travelling," Hild answered easily, "we are returning to Whiterun, but my horse will need a rest, so we were hoping to take two rooms for two nights."

"I only have one," he admitted, "the master suite. You can have it, but I recommend only staying one night."

"For the sake of my horse," Hild insisted, "I cannot do that."

"Then two nights it is," he sighed, as if allowing a favour, "I am Mralki, son of Erik, grandson of Mralki. Sometimes I think my father's adventuring days addled his brain in naming me, and also by not selling up when he had the chance."

"What do you mean?" Ysolna asked but, with a worried look on his face instead of answering Mralki offered to show them to their room.

When in the double room, Mralki looked around carefully before talking.

"There's something weird going on in Rorikstead," he admitted in a near-whisper, "has been since I was a child. I want to leave, but every time I look to sell, old Rorik convinces me not too. The Inns 'too important' he tells me, but I don't understand how he convinces me each time."

Clearing his throat, he stood up fully before loudly announcing:

"If that's all my good sir, I shall return to my bar."

With that, he walked off stiffly.

Rolling his eyes, Hild wasn't sure the innkeeper understood 'nonchalant' act, or if it was even called for. Still, perhaps they should consider moving on after a night...

Seemingly untroubled by Hild's concerns, Ysolna was more bothered by the sleeping arrangements.

"It's a double bed," she announced, although if she'd expected an upset response from her companion, she would be disappointed.

"It is what it is," Hild shrugged, "If you are uncomfortable then I shall sleep on the floor. My main concern is about what the innkeeper said. Perhaps its best we make a retreat tonight after we have rested somewhat. I can lead Horse if need be..."

"I appreciate that you are a seasoned warrior," Ysolna put her foot down, "but both Horse and I need the rest. I'm sure he's just being paranoid."

"Okay," he sighed in unhappy agreement, "but I don't think wearing heavy armours going to make anyone comfortable around me. I've got some plain clothes, so if anyone asks we are brother and sister, I'm a miner, you're, well..."

"A tailor. It's what I do in Whiterun."

"A tailor, eh?" Looking at her in surprise. Hild felt silly for not knowing. "You haven't said anything."

"You haven't asked. Now, shall I order dinner while you dress?"

"No need," Hild answered, lifting the armour off as he spoke, "it won't take long."

As he removed the gambeson he wore beneath the armour, Ysolna went bright red and turned slightly, so much so she could say she did so for his privacy, but not so much that she couldn't take in his muscular physique. The armour must have been hot as he was sweating below it, leading to his muscles glistening. She couldn't help but let out a yelp as he removed his underwear, yet again couldn't find the energy to turn to prevent herself looking. He was not only well-built, but well-hung, and he had a fine rump to him.

"You would not be staring, would you?" He teased as he looked through his bags for the miners clothes he'd lifted in Rorikstead. "It is not the actions befitting a lady."

"A lady wouldn't be having the thoughts I am having."

Her response shut him up quick, causing his cheeks to redden and other parts to stiffen.

"My lady, I am your bodyguard, and I must focus upon your honour. Also," he pointed out, pulling on the trousers, "we're brother and sister remember. We asked for separate rooms, so unless you want to be considered an unhappy couple..."

"I think I should be careful how much mead I drink tonight," she teased, "otherwise we might test that."

Ready to leave, Hild couldn't help but admire her as she walked out before him.

Ordering dinner with Mralki, they sat at the only free seats available, finding themselves inbetween those they assumed to be a farmer and a noble. Sipping on their drinks they talked about their planned route for Morndas, their planned day of travel.

"You will be in town Sundas night then?" The nobleman asked, interrupting their conversation but remaining polite nonetheless. "We have a... bit of a ritual," he smiled, like a fox worming its way into a henhouse, "if you do stay we would appreciate that you stay in your room that evening. Just, we try to keep it for the people of Rorikstead."

"You will have no problems with us my Lord," Hild answered politely, "we will be off first thing Morndas and therefore will be grateful for an early night."

The nobleman smiled in response, although it did not quite reach his eyes. As the two companions looked upon the man, there was an air of age about him, as if older than his rough sixty years.

Before either of them became too uncomfortable, another farmer came up to the nobleman.

"Lord Rorik," he asked timidly, "I am sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping to have a moment of your time."

"Of course Lemnar, you don't need to be so formal. Your mother and I go back many years. Well, I remember young Sissel as a little girl..."

"I know she thought fondly of you Lord," he spoke carefully, as if worried about offending, "but I have grave concerns about the giants north of us. They took another cow, and I swear I can hear screaming..."

"It is Sundas tomorrow Lemnar," he answered disapprovingly, "so there's little risk of giants doing any harm to us, especially since we had the walls built, oh my, about thirty years ago."

"I know sir," gulping, Lemnar was either brave or foolish, "but my livestock, I do worry about them..."

Sighing, Lord Rorik tapped his feet, eyeing the farmer up with a calculating eye.

"I can spare two guards," he announced eventually, "they will go with you tomorrow to have a look and, if they believe there's a greater risk to us, then the three of you shall do something about."

While Ysolna looked shocked at an order that was clearly suicide, Hild merely raised an eyebrow. Two guards and a farmer against two giants, at least two anyway, was a fools game. What was Rorik thinking?

"My lord," Hild spoke up, "I would offer my services to assist in place of your farmer, who I am sure is of better use working the fields."

Turning around in surprise, Rorik eyed him up.

"You would risk yourself for my citizen? A stranger you do not know?"

"My sister and I may not be nobles such as yourself, but I would not consider helping to be a pursuit purely for the upper-class. While I may be a miner, I also help defend the mine from bandits. I am not helpless my Lord."

"And what would you want for this stranger?"

Shrugging, Hild hadn't quite thought that far ahead.

"I do not know my lord. Is there anywhere that my sister and I could gather ingredients? We could use certain items for potions."

Unable to help himself, Lord Rorik chuckled.

"As it happens, you are in luck. Goldenhill Plantations is to the east, and for many years they have grown a wide range of ingredients. There's even talk the fabled Dragonborn planted them, but I doubt it. He wouldn't have had much to do in Rorikstead. It was once as if time or the gods forgot us."

"Then while I am off with your guards, would someone be able to escort my sister to the plantation?"

"You've twisted my arm," Rorik let out a roar of laughter, "I'll send her with a guard! You strike a good deal young man."

Holding out his hand, Hild shook it solemnly.

"Only if I survive," he grinned.

Not pleased by the agreement, Ysolna looked at him angrily.

"How can you abandon me?" She hissed, "you're supposed to be looking after me?"

"You'll have a guard, and I shall be back. I feel these giants might hold the key to this towns secrets, anyway," he responded more loudly, "it means you're not just sat here twiddling your thumbs."

The evening went slowly, Hild loath to drink too much while Ysolna seemed to increase her intake out of spite. He understood her worry, but he couldn't have left poor Lemnar to go and die.