Outgrowing Skyrim

“Fus-Ro-Dah!”

 

A wall of force blasts me back onto the word wall. It's like gravity forcefully changed directions. The shout pins me to the wall for a second but releases me as the wave ends. I dropped down and shakily find my footing, trying to keep my eyes on my opponent. 

 

He's not physically impressive for a draugr. Shorter than most of the zombies I've faced so far, the only thing that distinguishes him from the others is the solid iron helmet he wears. His weapon appears to be a simple blackened steel blade just like the rest of the zombies in this tomb. In-game it could have been any of the other ancient melee weapons but it always had a frost enchantment attached to it.

 

We lock eyes, moving together to close the distance. Once I'm in range I summon my familiar wolf behind him, my classic maneuver. The draugr considers the pup for just a moment. Then he opens his mouth.

 

“Fus-Ro-Dah!”

 

I reflexively lean into the shout and manage to keep my balance but it's all I can do. The draugr turns and easily dispatches my familiar in one swing. 

 

Changing plans I take advantage of the remaining distance to pull out my trusty Flame spell. The draugr lord runs at me angry with sword raised but I'm already one step ahead of him on a predetermined retreat path around the chamber. He's not nearly as dumb as Skyrim AI but apparently being a zombie makes you less nimble. Even so I'm not fast enough and his sword bounces off my shield a few times.

 

It feels like an ice bucket is poured over me every time he strikes the shield. I'm actively shivering by the time we make it back around to the small bridge and my magicka runs out. I wait at the end of the bridge with my shield up and down my last magicka potions and prepare a spell.

 

“Fus-Ro -Dah!”

 

My guard is blown open by the force wave. The draugr seizes the opportunity and comes down with a haymaker swing. The sword scratches down my armor, mostly missing my flesh but I'm pretty sure my helmet is dented. The cold is overwhelming and I can barely move my body coherently anymore. 

 

Then the draugr lord stumbles forward, my newly summoned familiar lunges for him. I timed it so the noise of his shout drowned out the noise of the summoning gate. I suck down health and stamina potions and ready myself. The draugr seems keen to finish me off, ignoring my puppy. Trading blows with the zombie boss goes decidedly in my favor, thanks to my familiars harassment. The cold is still a problem but manageable. The draugr lord casts a side eye to the wolf, realizing he miscalculated. Just as I think he's about to turn around to deal with the spirit he grabs my shield and peels it open.

 

“Fus-”

 

Point blank Force from this range just might end me. Even if I survive I'm low on potions and magicka. I slash at his throat with everything I have in a desperate attempt to deflect the shout. 

 

“-Ro Dah!” 

 

An explosion of force launches me backward, sailing through the air. When I land the impact knocks the wind out of my lungs and leaves me momentarily paralyzed. The rest of the cavern is shaking from the reverberations. There's a loud metallic CRACK somewhere on the stone next to me. It's a struggle to even twist my body to look at what made the noise. 

 

I see the draugr lord's head, still in its helmet, staring back at me with a confused look. Before I or he can process what happened the blue light fades from his eyes and his jaw slackens. I use Healing to pick myself up a few moments later.

 

My familiar is sniffing around the inanimate body of the draugr overlord. It looks like my gamble paid off a little too well. His shout blew his head clean off at the throat. I'm honestly surprised it worked at all. It makes sense. The very first Emperor had his throat cut open as part of an assassination plot. He survived the attack but never shouted again. I guess I know now that it's not that he couldn't shout so much as he might have blown himself up had he tried to shout.

 

I collect the draugrs enchanted sword and pick up the Dragonstone for Farengar. I'll look at it later. For now there's a staircase leading to the hidden back entrance, a wall of natural looking stone activated by a small lever. This should be where the real treasure is. The cave leads to a small chamber down a high ledge drop, likely engineered to prevent the secret door from being discovered easily. From atop the ledge I can see my prize, a massive book as tall as me on a pedestal leaned against the cave wall. Beneath it is a wreath of snowberries adorning the pedestal. Hopping off the ledge I stumble as I make my way toward the book.

 

For such a gigantic volume the book is just as simply adorned as I remember it being, the mod that spawned it taking a generic book texture as the cover. In fact it's exactly as I remember it. So much so that it almost doesn’t look real. I go to touch the oversized tome and wonder how the hell I'm going to get it down to read it when my hand passes right through it. 

 

Stunned, I watch as the book fades out of existence as if it were just an illusion. I frantically try to grab onto anything that might be there but the book is gone with the next blink of my eyes. Breathing heavily I can only stand here flabbergasted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. That book was supposed to teach me the spell and provide me with a sword with the accompanying overpowered enchantment. Not fuck off into the void. I search my immediate surroundings for answers and find nothing that even hints at the presence of the now absent tome.

 

Desperate, I search my inventory for the Dragonstone. There’s no logical reason it should tell me anything since I’m looking for modded content added onto the main game but maybe there’ll be some kind clue given it's lore purpose is supposed to be a map. It's a heavy thing, twenty five pounds(eleven kilos), in the shape of a pentagon. One of the points is slightly exaggerated and marks the bottom of the map. The front is a faded gold inlaid map of Skyrim with the dragon burial mounds marked by stars. On the back is more of the dragon language in its chicken scratch script probably saying as much. I put it back and while I do I notice something interesting.There's a sword that doesn’t belong here.

 

Huh

 

It’s the sword. The one I was supposed to get from the book. An elven blade with the corresponding enchantment to the book. The mod gave this weapon both as a way for making the enchantment available for players but also to help people not roleplaying mages. I tuck the sword away almost immediately out of fear. I’ll have to deconstruct it as soon as possible. I don’t know what the rules of this world truly are so I don’t know who else has access to this kind of magic but for now I’ll go with the assumption that I’m the only one who knows about it. Having a physical object any thief can steal is a massive liability. 

 

Hopefully this means that I learned the spell without realizing it. Thinking back to my first day in Skyrim when I first used magic in Helgen, I focus on what I want to manifest. The spell comes easily to my hands, a red aura dancing between my fingers. I don’t know how much control I have over it but I'm eager to find out. 

 

I’m so eager that I nearly fall out of the cave in excitement. Whereas there is a small ledge to deter exploration in the cave, the exit to the cave has a whole ass cliff protecting it. Grabbing the random potion that's always tucked in the corner by the cave mouth, it takes me nearly five minutes to climb down safely from the mountainside. At the bottom are a few mammoth skeletons half buried in erosion that give way to the familiar pine covered lushness that defines the Riverwood valley area. I think I’m technically in Falkreath hold right now, the southernmost Nord Jarldom which is the most temperate of Skyrim's regions. 

 

Knowing roughly where I am I head away from the mountainside until I reach a large body of water. This should be the lake that feeds the actual river for Riverwood, its name unknown to me. If I follow the shore to the left I should make it back to Riverwood no problem but I have a different idea. I look around and spot a pair of small yet familiar islands. It’s harder to find my bearings when everything is stretched out like this. It feels like Willy Wonka put Skyrim through the taffy stretcher. Even the small islands I’m approaching are bigger than I remember. Before they would have made a great spot to do some fishing closer to the center of the lake out of the water. Now you could put a fishing shack on each island with room to spare. I remember these particular islets because one of them has corundum ore, a precious ore for early crafting. And because slaughterfish would always interrupt my mining animation because apparently an angry fish in the water counts as being in combat even if you’re on land.

 

This time around it's actually the murder fish I’m really after, not the ore. There's no mining skill as far as I can tell so I’m probably not going to waste time and avoid causing cave-ins by just paying for most of the materials I’ll need. I’ll make exceptions of course but I’ll probably just need to buy raw materials as I need them. 

 

I want the slaughterfish because despite their name they should be relatively manageable, one on one at least. My new spell needs a live test subject to work and it needs to be about as harmless as possible. My hope is that the fish will be aggressive enough to try and attack me while I’m close to the shore so I can beach them or at least take a few potshots. Getting bit seems more than likely but I’m hoping for that. The slaughterfish's bite hurts but it's not lethal or debilitating in any way. Hopefully the creature latches onto my boot so I can drag it back to land to experiment at my leisure. 

 

I really am getting cavalier about injuries now that I’ve got unlimited access to Healing.

 

The swim to the islands is a short thirty second dip that almost ends me. Heavy armor doesn't float like it does in the game apparently. I make it to the other side naked, having panicked sucked all my equipment into my inventory. Any fears I had about being bitten were forgotten when my head dropped below the waterline but luckily no slaughter fish showed up to take a nibble.After catching my breath I put my boots back on and splash around all around the islands. Still nothing shows up. Maybe there's no fish here or maybe their AI is better this time around and they know not to fuck around with the shallow end. Either way there's nothing here for me so eventually I swim back to the mainland. 

 

Feeling a bit less exposed now that I’m not on the lake and needing to dry off I take an opportunity to examine myself naked, not truly having had the opportunity since that time I was briefly alone in Helgen. I think I look mostly the same but maybe a little fuller, like I eat food on a regular basis but it's still one meal a day. I stroke my tiny penis to inspect it properly while erect and after some coaxing it finally gets hard. That said it really doesn't change all that much and I can't say I’m surprised. My libido has almost been non-existent since I got here. It's made focusing on everyday life easier but I definitely miss it. 

 

After shaking off the excess water as best as I can I clothe myself in my much dryer light armor and make up the hill by the shore. I could follow the river exactly to Riverwood but if I remember right there are usually some wolves or some other nonthreatening woodland creature that spawn here. I make my way partially up the hill before I’m stopped dead in my tracks.

 

“Oorh, ourh!” a deep cavernous sounds off just ahead.

 

Out of nowhere bursts a lanky brown gorilla eight or nine feet tall (three meters) with three black eyes. Its limbs are wonderfully adorned with terrible claws for both of its long arms and stubby legs. A severe underbite shows off a large row of jagged teeth ending in large canines. The stench it emits is almost unbearable, a mix of rotting meat and awful funky cheese. It’s no surprise considering how disgustingly greasy the monster looks.

 

Also it's a literal fucking troll with a nearly unstopable regeneration power.

 

I know I stand no chance, my knowledge from another world and my instincts both scream at me to run. I book it back to shore while trying not to piss myself. I can only hope I can out swim a troll as I literally streak back to the water taking off my armor again. I splash into the lake swim/running furiously, the troll right behind me, its roars ringing in my ears. I use all of my stamina, hoping that if I can at least make it to land I can summon my familiar to slow it down for a second. Then maybe swim downstream. Grunts of effort from the massive troll echo into the valley from right behind me. At soon as my feet touch the bottom I run to the highest point on the first island and turn. The troll isn't behind me. It’s not even close. It's still by the shore. The beast is grunting and slapping the water angrily, never getting more than ankle deep before retreating back to dry land. Apparently it was yelling at the water the whole time. I guess trolls hate water. Who knew? 

 

I catch my breath on the island, naked and dripping. I watch the troll for a while as it makes multiple failed attempts at crossing the water. It's clear from this that the troll's aversion to water is more psychological than anything else. It never gets more than ankle deep before running back out in panic. The biggest problem is that after an hour it's still trying, just not as frequently. 

 

Well fuck this. I have to go. I normally can't pee when someone's watching but I don't think the troll counts as a person and I’m about to explode. I lift up the Imperial Battle skirt  and let loose.

 

“GUAARR!!”

 

I nearly piss myself again as the troll lets out a roar that could be heard for miles. It barrels towards me, completely forgetting its fear of water. The thing is so damn tall it doesn't need to swim, its neck never dips below the water. I pull out my shield and ready the new spell, my best bet. When the troll gets close enough I let loose my new drain spell. Red aura speckled with white motes drains from the rampaging troll. It doesn't react at all, its head still just above the water line as the beast chugs away. And yet the closer the troll gets the farther it seems to be. 

The beast seems to shrink down further and further. The once fearsome beast is waist high to me when it gets to the shore. My magicka is depleted but the spell did more than enough. I pull out my Imperial sword and charge the small troll.

 

And I nearly get bodied. The troll may be smaller but its muscle efficiency must be insane. It’s like fighting an angry chimpanzee with knives for hands. I get in a few good hits but the beast's healing factor is insane, I can only see my last cut on it at any given time. Everything else has already healed up. My armor simply won’t hold up in a war of attrition. My only hope is to last long enough to recharge enough magicka to shrink the troll even further.

 

My shield takes blow after blow from the former gorilla, now angry monkey. I even try to shield bash the troll multiple times but it doesn’t even seem to faze the smaller beast. I want to wait to have more magicka but blood is streaming down my limbs and my vision is starting to fade. The troll suddenly jerks back, giving me the moment to use the spell. The troll shrinks and shrinks writhing around in apparent agony from the spell. My magicka runs out too soon but now the once hulking beast is just over knee height. 

 

My vision clears up a bit and I can see now what gave me my chance. A slaughterfish finally showed up, nearly long as I am tall. With the body of a fish and snout of a crocodile its been viciously tearing at the legs of the troll without mercy. A slaughter fish should try and eviscerate any living thing that gets in their water. Now that the troll is the same size as the fish it's game over.The tiny beast tries to fight it off but gets quickly dragged under once the fish realizes it can. 

 

So I’m left on the island again, panting, dripping and bleeding but at least I'm not naked. A burst of Healing is all I can manage but it's enough to stop the bleeding. I sink down and just lay on the islet like the most comfortable bed in the world. At this point I may as well plant my own flag and start my own Jarldom with the amount of blood I’ve put into it. I doubt my fellow Jarls would complain. After a few long minutes I heal myself fully and make the naked dash back to the main shore hoping the slaughterfish are too busy with the troll to attack me.

 

I make it back thankfully with no issues, except the sun is setting fast. I don’t have time to dry off properly before being plunged into darkness so I run back to Riverwood in damp armor. Following the river I make it back well after nightfall, lighting my lanturn and using the light to reflect off the river. I don’t even see the town, I run straight into one the wall of one of the few homes on the other side of the river. I gingerly poke my way to the bridge and into town, holding my broken nose.

 

I’m wet, tired and I just wanna lay down.

"Inn's closed. Bar's still open, though. Feel free to sit and put your head down on the table for as long as you like. I won't bother you." Orgnar says, his stone-like face bereft of any hope.

 

I can’t even get upset. I should have remembered sooner that the innkeeper fucks off after you get the Dragonstone. I don’t see why he can’t rent a room without her but he doesn’t make the rules so pointing it out won’t help. I guess I’m sleeping under a table tonight.

 

Rather than ask permission I’ll just see what I can get away with. I grab a room for a second to change. Orgnar stares at me disapprovingly but doesn’t say anything as I leave the room now wearing a dry tunic. Then I start laying my wet equipment out piece by piece by the raised pit fire fire. I’m currently debating leaving them out to dry while I sleep or just drying them for an hour before passing out.

 

“You can't dry your armor like that, the fire will warp the leather and rust the steel.” says a familiar voice.

 

Fuckin who asked? I look around for the source of criticism.

 

“Alvor!” I say shocked. I never really expected to see him again or at all. 

 

“The way Hadvar spoke I didn't think we'd be seeing you again stranger. I'm glad he was wrong.” he says with a smile. “What are you doing here? Went fishing for slaughterfish in your armor?”

 

“I got into an argument with a troll.” I say grimly. “Swam to get away.”

 

Alvor looks shocked. “Aye that'll do it. I couldn't help overhearing earlier. If you want you could stay with me. I've still got an extra bedroll and I could show you how to dry your equipment properly.” he offers.

 

“Sure”

 

“Good. I'll just pick up my usual order and we can be off.” he says cheerfully.

 

I stash my slightly warmed armors and a moment later Alvor comes back from the counter. We swiftly make our way only a few homes down to his smithy, a rectangular building with a large porch at the end for forge work. Like most homes it's a rock based log cabin with a thatched roof 

 

“Sigrid! We have company.” Alvor announces as he opens the door.

 

A pretty redheaded Nord woman perks up from the hearth. Well pretty by earth standards, her face is kinda plain, for Skyrim anyway. Her hair is nowhere near as vibrant as Aela or Irileth and is dull by comparison. She bears the standard thickness that I've come to expect from Skyrim.

 

“Welcome! You must be the friend that Hadvar mentioned. He told us a little about what you did for him and we're very thankful. Come, sit down and let me get you something to eat.” she invites, clearly pleased to have company. 

 

Sitting down I spy their daughter asleep on the single bed in a corner on the opposite side of the home. A warm bowl of apple cabbage stew is swiftly placed in front of me while Alvor goes to work on my armor. 

 

“If ever you find your leathers wet again, rub beast fat into the material while it is still damp. That’ll condition it and preserve it. Bear fat works the best but even churned butter would be better than nothing.” he explains while doing just that, a bowl of animal fat beside him. “The steel armor on the other hand is much more resistant to corrosion but it does tend to rust at the joints and has leather straps of its own. Troll fat is usually what you want to apply to metals and you'll want to coat any iron you have in the stuff to stave off rust.”

 

“I thought the mark repaired the armor automatically?” I question.

 

“Aye, it repairs but doesn’t prevent. Once the equipment has been warped or corroded the rune doesn’t do anything.” Alvor explains.

 

I move from the table to help Alvor, since it is a lot of gear, but get swiftly put in my place.

 

“Now you be a good guest and eat. Let my husband worry about your armor. He may spend most of his time hammering saw blades but he's made plenty of good armor too.” Sigrid says proudly. “He even made a set just to propose to me. He looked so dashing in it at our wedding. I wish he would wear it more often.” she adds pointedly.

 

“Bah, I can't stand to look at it. It was amateur work from my early days as a smith.” Alvor scoffs.

 

“Or maybe you just don't fit in it like you used to.” Sigrid teases. 

 

“And who's fault do you think that is?” Alvor quietly grumbles.

 

I eat my stew in silence. Apple and cabbage stew isn't bad but it is weird. Sigrid and Alvor both busy themselves with their respective tasks, with Sigrid tidying up. But before long they both finish up and we all end up around the table each with a mug of mead. I get the feeling I’m about to pay for dinner.

 

“So…” Alvor starts.

 

“We were wondering if you could tell us about Helgen. If you want to, of course.” Sigrid quickly adds. “We heard it from Hadvar but it's just so hard to believe…”

 

“Did Hadvar already leave?” I ask. Hadvar at least should be here. Neither Hadvar or Ralof ever leave Riverwood until you start the civil war questline in the game. Whoever you picked to leave Helgen with would just hang out with their families until you picked a side.

 

“Aye, the lad left not long ago.” Alvor remarks. “Thought he was going to stay longer but something came over the boy and he left.” he says, glancing at Sigrid.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to know if Ralof left as well?” I follow up.

 

There’s no hiding the glances between the husband and wife now. I could be terribly rude and just ask about the boys relationship outright, but I think I’ve got enough information as is.

 

“We’re not certain but that would be my guess.” Alvor answers. “We never saw him to begin with so there's no telling.”

 

“Thanks. Welp I’ll try and regurgitate what I can.” I say.

 

I summarize everything that happened at Helgen, while leaving out some of the unnecessary details. I gloss over the small uprising I caused before the execution, the hallucination before that and what I was doing before I got captured. I also try to leave out details I should have no way of knowing naturally, like how Alduin the World Eater was specifically the dragon that attacked us. They do ask questions but for the most part stay quiet and listen. They give each other knowing looks everytime I recount an interaction with Ralof and Hadvar, getting less and less subtle the more mead they drink. The couple visibly recoil when I describe the spider lair and Sigrid nearly falls off her chair when I describe the bear encounter and how it nearly finished off Hadvar. I end my story with the pair looking tired but satisfied.

 

“Well I’ll be. That was a story right there. Worthy of its own song!” Alvor proclaims.

 

“I’ll say. If the tavern had more stories like this I might just join you more often.” Sigrid adds.

 

“Half of Skyrim would come round to this little village if that were the case.” Alvor says. “I’ll have to scold the boy when he comes back. He left out half the story!”

 

“Husband…”

 

With my story over and it being well into the late night we make for bed. I see a glint from the daughter's bed as the blanket moves a little. Guess we’ll all have a late start tomorrow. They lead me to a basic bedroll in the basement that Hadvar was using while he was here and wish me good night. The bedrolls basically a hollow burrito made of animal fur, with the fur turned inward. Thanking the Divines that I don’t have any allergies anymore, I crawl inside and pass out.

“Why? Is something wrong with your Imperial set?” Alvor askes confused. “I was sure everything was in working order when I looked at it last night.”

 

Everyone did get a late start the next day. Well late morning anyway. I couldn’t stay asleep in another new place for very long anyway and found the rest of the family up and about already even with the lack of sleep. Sigrid and her daughter are busy keeping house and tending the garden while Alvor was getting a late start on the forge. I wanted to see if I could convince him to properly fit the iron armor pieces I found.

 

“It's not that. I need a more… inconspicuous armor. Something that won’t put me on the receiving end of a Stormcloak ambush.” I say.

 

“Aye, I can see how that would be a problem. But iron isn’t really the solution you're looking for, especially for a new adventurer. Iron’s effective and cheap to be sure but it demands care and know how to use and keep properly. That steel armor on the other hand won’t have you reeking of troll fat just to stave off rust.” he says. “You’ll double your workload on straps alone.”

 

The thought of having to smear troll fat on my armor kinda ruins the romantic ideas I had about switching over to a rustic set of iron armor. Pair that with the fact I’m basically too low level to even improve iron equipment and there's almost no argument as to which set I should use. Steel in this world is practically stainless anyway. Still I’ll need a protective layer of something that doesn’t scream Imperial if I’m to travel to rebel held areas. Which I’ll definitely have to do, probably sooner rather than later.

 

“Well you sold me. In that case could you modify the helmet?” I ask. “I don’t want to get mistaken for an officer.”

 

“Tell you what. You trade me that iron you found and I’ll reforge the helmet. I’ll even throw in a set of old hide armor to help you be more inconspicuous. I can even show you how to refit it, if you’ve got the time.” Alvor offers.

 

It’s perfect.

Alvor immediately gave me the hide and ran me through the basics of adjusting the lighter armor. He even gave me some materials to work with and pointed to the workbench which he said he won’t need to use today. I’m unsure if I made the armor better or worse but I had fun so I don’t care. Alvor’s already done with my helmet by the time I’m done. It’s still obviously Imperial but it looks a lot more like a common soldier's helmet rather than the flashy officers helmet it was before.

 

“I tried copying the light helmets' basic shape since I know that's what most of them look like anyway. It should serve just as well.” he says.

 

“Thank you very much.” I say. “I need to see the trader and depending on what happens there I might be leaving today or tomorrow.”

 

“Well try to let us know before supper, ay? We would love to have you again, especially if we get to hear that story about you and the troll!” Alvor says cheerfully.

 

I nod and head to the traders. It’s not that far and in a minute I’m at the Riverwood Trader. I pull out the golden claw and head inside. To my surprise Camilla is at the counter. It’s not like she can’t run the store but in the game she only did it when Lucan died. Her face is full of surprise when she sees me and then the claw.

 

“You have the claw! Lucan will be so happy when he sees it. He’s taking a nap upstairs but he should be down in a moment. He never can sleep when there's a customer.” she chirps happily. 

 

“Have you thought about what we talked about?” I say, setting the claw down on the counter.

 

There's a rustling sound from upstairs. She looks sheepishly around before replying.

 

“Are you really going to see the Jarl?” she asks.

 

“Possibly. I’m delivering this-” I produce the Dragonstone next to the claw. ”-to the court wizard.”

 

The gold inlay glimmers in the candlelight. I can see the tablet reflected in Camillas eyes as she beholds the ancient artifact. The sounds of steps from upstairs pull her out of the small trance she was in.

 

“Alright, but you have to convince my brother. I don’t think I can on my own.” she says quickly as Lucan comes down the stairs.

 

"You found it? Ha ha. There it is! Strange... it seems smaller than I remembered. Funny thing, huh?” Lucan says, picking up the claw. “I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister.” 

 

He takes a few moments to examine the claw before returning it back to its rightful place on the counter. Camilla retreats to her table next to the fireplace, sitting on pins and needles. Lucan collects himself a bit to rub some sleep from his eyes before he realizes that the Dragonstone is on the table.

 

“What's that?” 

 

“That's part of what I wanted to talk about.” I say, seizing the opportunity I laid out for myself. “I want something other than gold as payment.” 

 

“Oh?” Lucan says, eyes focusing.

 

“That stone is a map of ancient dragon burial sites, made particularly relevant by the recent dragon sightings I’m sure you two have heard about?” I say, trying to set the tone for the discussion. 

 

“I thought that was just a silly rumor, started by bored villagers.” Lucan explains. “I guess if you have this it's not just a rumor.”

“The Jarl seems to think so. I cleared out Bleak falls looking for this so it could be delivered to the court wizard in Dragonsreach. To add to that I also have treasure from the Barrow I need to sell. The trouble is I suck at bartering. So… I was hoping to enter into a partnership of sorts with this shop.” I explain.

 

“Go on.” Lucan says, back unnaturally straight.

 

“Given that this shop has a merchant to spare I thought I’d take one with me on my adventures. Help me out as a traveling merchant.” I explain.

 

“And which one of us did you expect to have come along with you on your ‘adventures’.

 

“Camilla, of course.”

 

“I see. Well the answer is no. I won’t have my sister going into some gods forsaken dungeon to get eaten by skeevers!” he responds, clearly hostile.

 

Honestly it's about as good a reaction as I could have hoped for.

 

“She’ll only go to major towns and cities, not actually be there when I’m fighting gods know what..” I reason. ”She’ll be perfectly safe. Well at least as safe as you can be with dragons on the loose. I understand your misgivings and am willing to go through a trail phase before we agree to anything permanent.”

 

“I’m not agreeing to anything.” Lucan says indignant. “Camilla, did you agree to this?” 

 

“Yes, dear brother. I did.” she says resolutely. “I think it's a wonderful opportunity for all of us.”

 

“Do you now?” Lucan replies venomously.

 

“Yes I do. We have no reason to doubt what our friend here is telling us. Considering she brought us the claw back from those bandits and explored Bleak Falls Barrow by herself I think she's more than trustworthy.” she states. “Not to mention a guaranteed visit to Dragonsreach? You’d have to be a fool to pass this up Lucan.”

 

The man is grinding his teeth trying to come up with a good argument. It's clear he's being over protective but his instincts are also telling him it's a set up of some kind. The merchant in him can't pass a good deal but it also can't stand being outplayed. 

 

“Tell me more about this ‘trial period’ you're so fond of talking about.” he says..

 

“It lasts from the time we leave Riverwood until we return from Whiterun. Just there and back, no other destinations. We’ll stay for as long as the Jarl needs me or a week, whichever is shorter. Upon our return we can either make it official or cancel the arrangement.” I explain.

 

“And the profit split will be…?”

 

“Fifty-fifty. An even split seems fair to me.” I answer.

 

“Nighty-ten.” he retorts swiftly. 

 

“Lucan!” Camilla gasps.

 

“Done!” I shout, shocking them both.

 

“You can’t be serious!” he says.

 

“Only one way to find out.” I say holding out my hand.

 

Lucan hangs his head for a moment before looking at me from under his brow. He hangs it deeper, lets out a sigh and shakes my hand. The deal is struck.

 

“Whiterun and back. No where else. Agreed?” he says, resigned.

 

“Agreed.” I reply like I’m not being robbed blind by my own deal.

 

“Good. That ‘trial’ starts now. Show us what you’ve got!” Lucan demands.

 

I spill out everything I want to get rid of. The merchant siblings rifle through everything and immediately start picking winners and losers loudly. Scrolls apparently are big money and get high praise as do potions and the modern steel weapons. The Ancient Nord weapons do not get such high praise.

 

“Why’d you bring this crap? It's not even enchanted!” Lucan asks. “We can’t sell this.”

 

“Why not?” I ask, offended.

 

“How long have you been in Skyrim?” Lucan asks exasperated. “The stuff doesn’t last more than a week outside of the crypts. Runes don’t help either. Only the enchanted stuff can survive long and those pieces still don't sell very well. Especially inside Skyrim.”. He continues to examine each piece before straightening up. “I’ll pay you the bare minimum of what I think I can get for these, and if they sell for more I’ll pay you the difference later. Sound fair?”

 

“Sure”

 

“Great.” Lucan says enthusiastically while giving me my coin. “Now Camilla and I are going to close shop early to get her ready for tomorrow. Come back tomorrow at noon to pick her up.”

 

“Lucan! She’s on a quest from the Jarl! Shouldn’t we go now, it's not that far!” Camilla protests.

 

“Skyrim will eat you alive if you’re not prepared! Isn’t that right miss adventurer?” Lucan asks me pointedly.

 

“Yup.” 

 

“See, even she agrees. Now come along. We need to close up shop.” he says.

 

“Fine…”

It's already late afternoon by the time I leave the traders, much lighter than before. I have half a mind to check on Ralof but decide against it. If he is here he’s probably fine to begin with and if he’s not I can’t really help him. There isn’t much else to do here but I do stop by the inn to pick up some night night mead. While inside I spy Camilla with a small entourage of menfolk asking all sorts of questions. She gives me a small wave and the menfolk whip their heads around to stare daggers at me. I make my way back to Alvor to tell him I’ll be spending one more night. 

 

“All right. Sigrid has already been hard at work there working on supper. She was hoping you’d be staying one more night.” the smithy says. “Go on in. I'll be done shortly.”

 

Dinner is a whole roast chicken with buttered bread and veggies cooked in the drippings. It's not hard to see that they’re going all out. Dessert is homemade apple pie with clotted cream. Dorthe, their daughter, can hardly take her eyes off me while she eats. I guess my story last night really enamored her. It doesn't help that I'm at the table in armor this time, romantically reflecting the firelight. 

 

Finally after the meal is hard and plates are put away the mead is brought out. An argument seems to come with it over whether or not Dorthe should be allowed to listen to my troll story I forgot I promised to tell. They finally ask me if I thought the tale was appropriate for children. I told them honestly that I didn't know but that it wasn't particularly bloody and that it might help Dorthe if she ever came across a troll. That seemed to settle it.

 

They sat in attention as I started with my descent from the secret exit from Bleak Falls Barrow, a story I told them was definitely not for children, and ended with the troll being dragged off by an enormous slaughterfish while I watched. Dorthe’s eyes were as big as saucers.

 

“If you had told that story before the dragon attack I would have called you a liar but now anything seems possible.” Sigrid admits.

 

 “Aye. Surviving a troll is one thing, but a giant monster in the lake isn't something anyone wants. I guess I'll keep my dips to the river.” Alvor remarks, stroking his beard.

 

I didn't lie. Much. The slaughterfish was as big as the troll by the end of it. I couldn't just say I have the power to shrink people down to nothing can I? Regardless they seem to think that's a good place to end the night and call it. They ask if I'm staying any longer and I tell them no. They seem sad but ask that I come back sometime and tell them about the Barrow. There'll be pie in it for me if I do.

The morning comes in the blink of an eye and I say goodbye. Dorthe gives me a hug despite not saying a word to me prior and makes me promise to come back. I promise and wave goodbye heading to the traders. To my surprise both siblings are already outside and ready. Buzzing around Camilla are two males, a man and mer, desperately trying to talk Camilla out of leaving. 

 

“Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be going on dangerous adventures Camilla.” pleads a Nord man with long dirty blonde hair. “Just let me sing about them instead. Every night I can take you to a new world with just my voice in comfort and safety.”

 

“That's very kind Sven but I've already made up my mind. I want to have adventures that I can call my own. Even if they're not as grand or beautiful as your songs.” Camilla replies.

 

The bard called Sven is crestfallen, his best card as an entertainer rejected. Lucan is sitting under his porch next to a pull cart. His expression is complicated to say the least. Before he was probably emotionally prepared to marry Camilla off to someone but it still must be hard to watch your sister get hit on so brazenly. Especially with all these new things happening.

 

“If it's adventure you're after I can take you hunting all across Skyrim. Show you techniques only the Bosmer know.” says a white haired wood elf.

 

“That's very kind of you, Faendal but I really wanted to ply my trade as a merchant. I'll come back to visit and maybe then you can show me those techniques if you're feeling up to it.” she says.

 

The hunter called Faendal looks heartbroken, his greatest skill ignored. Both males are thoroughly depressed but not beaten. Indeed Sven already looks like he’s about to speak again when Camilla spots me .

 

“Oh look, there's our client. Looks like we've got to go. Bye boys! I'll miss you!” she says with a wave as she hurries off in escape.

 

“Thank the Divines you showed up. Are you ready to go? All the menfolk in this town seem determined to stop me from leaving. Such a bother being popular sometimes.” she giggles.

 

Hoe. It's not entirely fair but I can't stop myself from thinking it in the moment. Her brother comes from behind her with the same vibes and I get my karma.

 

“Just because the agreement only mentions my sister it doesn't mean I can't come along to watch you two. Even if you are on a mission from the Jarl I still don’t trust you. There’ll be no funny business on this trip, you hear me?!.” Lucan says, dragging his kart behind him. 

 

Someone has had time to resent me. His feelings should become irrelevant soon enough. Even if Lucan still hates me by the end of the trip I’m pretty confident that Camilla will be thoroughly impressed enough to stick with me and abandon her brother. The store itself was only a bonus to begin with.

 

“I wish you had said something earlier, I could have prepared some gear for you. Camilla, this is for you.” I say.

 

“What is it?” she asks.

 

“Good Imperial armor, a shield and a sword for the road.” I answer. 

 

She takes it into her inventory and pulls out the Imperial light helmet to look at.

 

“Thank you. But I thought you were going to protect me when we traveled?” she asks, confused.

 

“I am protecting you. I'm giving you good equipment so you can live long enough for me to save you.” I reply. “If we’re attacked by multiple enemies I may not be able to get to you in time.”

 

“That's a load of horse shit! You just want to use us as meat shields so you can protect yourself.” Lucan asserts wildly. “I'm starting to doubt you are who you say you are!”

 

“Lucan!” Camilla shouts.

 

“Fight me. ” I retort. “You didn’t pack all this stuff just to not go. I could have gotten equipment for you too if you had told me beforehand.”

 

“I don’t need your rotten equipment, and neither does my sister. But you’re right. The sooner we start the sooner we can get this over with.” Lucan fires back.

 

“I uh, I’m going in the house for a second to change before we go.” Camilla says not looking Lucan in the eye as she hurries off

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I don’t know what fantasies you’ve filled my sisters head with but I won’t stand for it. As far as I’m concerned we are going to Whiterun to take care of some overdue business and then coming right back. Hopefully that’ll be enough adventure for Camilla and we can go back to our peaceful lives.” Lucan rant.

 

I ignore him. He’s just mad I outsmarted him out of his sister. Honestly I’m doing him a favor, saving his sister from a life of flirtatious drudgery and getting her out of his house. Hopefully when he visits Dragonsreach he’ll change his tune a bit but I didn’t expect him to be this angry to begin with. Camilla mercifully comes out a moment later.

 

“How do I look?” she asks, twirling in the Imperial leather armor like a princess in a dress.

 

She looks too good. Whereas warriors have bodies built from combat, Camilla is just plain seductively voluptuous to begin with. The worst part is that she looks leagues better in it than I do with the way she fills it out. I’m horny and jealous at the same time. 

 

“Great…” is all I can muster.

 

“Let's just go.” a less than enthused Lucan replies.

 

“Hang on.” I say. 

 

I go to check Camilla equipment is properly strapped in. Just because she's making me feel some type of way doesn't mean I'm not going to do the job properly. I go over the basics and adjust a few straps on her waist, trying not to stare at her luscious behind and thankful I'm a woman. Her armor secure we finally leave.

I half thought Lucan was going to demand I pull the kart, but he doesn't. He does ask Camilla to do it. She doesn’t seem to mind though and it makes sense. Of the two she’s definitely the stouter of the two siblings, pulling it with ease. The kart only has one chest in it, because chests have their own inventory space as well. I don't know how much exactly it can hold but I would guess the majority of the store is in there. 

 

Our journey is relatively uneventful. Looking at this road now  for the third time it’s clear from the limited geography that the only threats that could realistically set up camp on this road would be creatures on the move like wolves or maybe a troll. The siblings keep up conversation here and there. 

 

“Look Lucan, you can see the city from here.” Camilla remarks.

 

“Yes, you can.” Lucan replies flatly.

 

“Are you going to be like this the whole trip?” she pouts.

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about, dear sister.” he replies.

 

“Fine, be like that.”

 

We make our way down and leave the main river. Honning Brew Meadery gets an approving nod from Lucan at least, the happiest he's been the whole trip. 

 

Now I need to decide what to do with myself once we make it inside. It will be very late afternoon before we can do much. Lucan has already made it clear that he wants to visit the Jarl tomorrow and that his ‘precious rock’ can wait until he’s rented a room and hit up a few contacts in the city. That's fine. I want to visit the Companions anyway, collect my bounty, and be with people that actually like me. I should have plenty of time. In-game the second dragon attack doesn’t happen until after you deliver the stone so I should have at least a day or so to go.

 

WHOOSH.

 

Or maybe not.