*Mention of guy on guy relations*
Meeting the uncouth
The gentle fall of the snow had turned near blizzard-like, this made the cloaked figure heave a sigh. It hunched over on the back of a midnight horse with eyes that burned red like hot coals in the hearth. An armored hand reached out and lazily stroked the dark horse's mane absently. The black horse did not mind and actually, quite enjoyed it. His red eyes perked up a tad as they continued forward. The cloaked figure's head suddenly jerked upwards, it heard it. Although subtle, the tell-tale noise of steel against steel echoed out into the blinding white.
"Shadowmere, wanna get into some trouble?" a smooth, almost captivating tone emanated from the many fur wrappings.
As if to agree the horse snorted, and it turned and sprinted in the direction of the distant fight. The figure bent down to increase speed as they rocketed into the snow. After mere seconds the fight was visible, there were six-no seven counting the fallen one surrounded by-
well, just what in the gods were those things? They were like draugr but more, messy. it was like rotting flesh was living on their faces. The armor, if you could even call it that, was made so sloppily, any orc would cry at the thought of donning were so badly outnumbered, about 10:1, each person was wounded somehow. Their blood was easy to see on the pristine snow, like small crimson stains of flowers on fluffy fields of white cotton. They had taken down many already but it was obvious that if I didn't step in they would all be dead.
"By the maker, Where are they even coming from?!" a...nord? Honestly I don't know what race they were, shouted out moments before getting shot with an arrow in the shoulder. He yelped and misfired a light purple spell into the white storm. He clutched his wound and fell to his knees.
"Anders!" one of them called out, this one was kind of attractive. His armor looked expensive. I don't want to be the one who plucks it from his corpse. I yanked out my handy daedric bow and fired a shot through one of the beasts heads, I went into rapid fire as one by one the twenty beasts fell. I pulled out the closest bashing weapon I had, it just so happened to be a dragon bone battle axe. I hopped down from shadowmere, and swung the axe through the chest and back of two of the nearest. They crumpled into heaps of rotting refuse, black blood coated the edge of the blade. It smelled of poison or rot, best not to let it touch me.
By now the crowd's attention had shifted to me as one by one I ripped apart the disgusting mass. Peryite would love this rabble, or Namira. Really they would both love it.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw an elven mage use a staff interestingly against three of the creatures. She treated it like a spear, but far more close combat than one would think. It was bloody dangerous, but it looked like a lot of fun. Maybe I could bribe her into teaching me…
One of the wretched beasts flanked my left, I didn't have enough time to swing the axe. I let out a spew of ravenous flames and angry lightning into the body of the vile thing whilst dropping the axe into the snow. I unsheathed the mace of Molang Bal and Dawnbreaker and went to town. Hacking and slashing, ripping apart flesh and crushing bone, the squalid mass was thinning.
The fight lasted for a few more minutes; the last one had been killed by the attractive one in the great armor.
I picked my axe up and sheathed all weapons, the welcome wieght gave me comfort. I kept my distance from the group, they were bewildered, bleeding and broken. It was clear they needed help.
"You- you in the animal skin," He stopped to breathe in a ragged breath, "You gonna finish us off? Isn't that why you interviened? Aren't you gonna try and fight us?" the attractive one said. His beautiful face had a large cut across his right cheek.
"Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants to help you, foreigner?" I replied from across the expanse of cold snow."Your people are wounded, you're about to pass out, and i've been wandering around for two hours in this blasted cold looking for an ice wraith. Helping a group of injured people seems a more pertinent task."
The 'commander' as i've now dubbed him, nodded after a moments decision. I knelt down next to the one they had been surrounding. It was a short man with nordic blonde hair, he had a nasty gash in his back, he appeared to be poisoned. The slash in his back festered and a black substance traveled through his viens.
The commander spoke again,
"I'm afraid we can't help him, normal healing will close the wound but the taint… its in his system." he said with a heavy head as the healing magic sprung from my hands. I knitted together flesh and maimed muscle, and finally extracting the foul poison from the affected area. I still was missing some skill in the restoration field, but on numerous accounts I had to extract poison from myself with this crude method. It worked of course. I froze the discarded poison and tossed it to the side. I took off a layer of furs and wrapped the man gently, he would still be unconscious for a while.
"How in the name of the maker…" the commander trailed off looking bewildered.
"What, never seen magic? What rock have you been living under." I said as I stood and stepped over to the blond mage, Anders if I remember correctly. The only one that spoke was the commander the rest of the group was still silent, but it seemed even more so after I'd healed the short one.
Anders had long since passed out, by the looks of it he was a mage as well. The arrow injury didn't take long to heal. I stripped another layer of furs and wrapped it around him as well. I went around to every person healing the obvious strains of battle until each man and female were in top shape.
I whistled for shadowmere. He came running across the battlefield, the blood of the fallen stuck to his legs, each step left a dark crescent in the snow. Shadowmere slowed to a small gallop and wandered around the group, he did this with new people that would accompany her, it was like a brother sizing up a sisters courter. He whinnied quietly as if to state he was finished. I hefted up the short one and placed anders on my shoulder, mindful of where the injuries had been (newly restored flesh and bone are tender and easily breakable). I lifted them up onto the midnight horse and settled them in a comfortable position.
This… was odd. They did not make a single move to help me carry the unconscious; note that I did not need help, having a large frame grants me more freedom to build muscle. I spun to look at them. Now that I think about it, none of them are dressed for Skyrim weather. There were three women, all accept one dressed in simple thin cloth robes. An elf, nord, and a...redguard? Maybe a cross between imperial and redguard but, she was very beautiful, and her attire suggested that she's an avid follower of Dibella. The elf was most likely a wood elf, she was something small and thin. Her eyes were so beautiful, like an entire forest crawled into her skull and crystallized into shining gems. The third was more practical, she was obviously nordic with that fiery red hair. She wore strange steel armor with orange breaks of cloth. She looked to be hardy and able. The men were different. The commander, a godly elf, a small nord, and the tall nord. The commander had eyes of emerald and impossibly deep red (almost purple!) hair in a simple braid that trailed the back of his head, he was so handsome he could almost be a girl. The strange elf was just as attractive but more.. exotic! Oh his platinum tattoos made him look so beautiful, he looked to be from an imperial painting. His eyes looked like cascades of silver. After some thought the two of them entangled in dark sheets would look just divine, hmmmm another time. The short nord had lots of chest hair, not uncommon, and a square jaw. The Anders man was handsome to boot as well.
"Just who are you people?" I asked as I fiddled with the straps on the staddle to make sure the two prone bodies wouldn't slip. I got no answer.
"Did you just cure the taint?" the redhead asked.
"Is that whats in those disgusting creatures? Well then yes. Its a complex poison base with the advantage of blood, can't be cured with potions if by blood, but by hand you could get it out easy." I explained as I finished tightening a belt strap. I'd run into enough venomous animals and things to know this.
"But the taint… is incurable. The witch of the wastes said so herself!" The nordic woman shot back.
"What kind of magic did she specialize in?" I asked turning to the group.
"Shapeshifting." The commander spoke up. "She shapeshifts." He said. He looked somehow visibly shaken; those stormy emerald eyes stared me down, just about bore a hole through my face.
"Well that's an odd path to go down, did she beg to the Daedra to bless her or something?" I said mostly to myself, the companions can shape shift into werewolves, but thats about it. " She probably wasn't very skilled in the restoration field. The technique I use was birthed by my own hand, but surely there is some way to counteract poison in your land with magic?"
Just then the blizzard kicked up.
"Alright how about we save the Q&A for later? This snow is freezing my tits off!" The pretty woman spoke up. I shed my last furs and strided over to hand it to her she took it gratefully, I still had a simple dark green cape tied just above the shoulders, it covered the front and the back but not the arms.
"Thank the maker!" she exclaimed. Sadly the armor I had on was Boethiah's champion armor, I tend to keep it under wraps because it unnerves people to look at it. The cape would do to keep such intimidations at bay.
"Its best we listen to her, come we are not so far from Dawnstar." I said as I Started to walk due east. Shadowmere followed immediately in my heels, the woman I had handed the furs to waved to the others and joined the parade, the wood elf followed the first immediately, the redhead looked at the commander and went along. Finally the commander and the silvery elf looked at each other and got up to speed with the others. Shadowmere snorted, sounding almost like a giggle. I pet his nose roughly.
"Oh hush." I said underneath my breath.
oo00oo
This man just did the impossible right in front of our eyes. He cured the taint in a matter of seconds. Seconds! The man was a mage, warrior,and rogue; an impossible combination. It's too much for one person to know a single skill set but three?! Three entirely different styles of fighting used in the same battle. This man was armed to the teeth, daggers, swords, axes, warhammers, maces, bows, staves, he had literally every weapon type at his disposal. I know these kinds of people. I should. Hawke is one of them, they don't just do something like this without purpose. His armor was just as strange as his concept. From what little he had showing it was made of some kind of black metal, and intricate as hell. But one of the most unsettling things was his mask. It didn't have eye slits or breathing holes, and it seemed to emanate a red aura, where it ended a dark cloth erupted, it fell to his shoulders like smooth hair.
"Dawnstar is about an hour away." he called over the howling of the blizzard.
Merrill and Isabela shared the furs he had given them. The massive white fur circled them both and no doubt sheltered them from the harsh cold. I looked at Hawke. He was obviously trying to come to terms with what just happened, Bethany was written all over his face. Fenris stuck close behind him, probably thinking the same as I.
"So what do you think?" I overheard Isabela whisper.
"About what?" Merrill whispered back.
"Man or Woman?" Isabela giggled silently.
"Obviously man. Hes too tall and strong for a woman." Merrill shot back in a hushed tone.
"Women can be tall and strong, look at me!" Isabela pouted. "I think woman, she has the air and voice of one."
"You must be deaf! No woman I've ever met has a voice like that! Its too...soft" Merrill replied.
The two began to bicker in in hushed tones. Somehow it lightened the mood, I found myself with a straighter back and more resolve than I should. Thoughts of Westly and Donnic surfaced. If this person had been there...No. I can't think about this. A cursory glance in Hawke's direction supported my decision. He was standing tall not an ounce of regret on his face. We need to think about the now. And especially-
"We have arrived, Welcome to Heljarchen Hall." The masked figure announced.
I hadn't even noticed we'd come across a village. The house itself was huge, two small gardens flanked the first smaller building, a pile of lumber sat idly away from the house. The man hefted up the two unconscious bodies from the horse; a man carrying fresh lumber appeared from the side of the house.
"Thane! Welcome back! I see we have guests, would you like me to prepare some rooms?" The man happily exclaimed from where he was. He wore warm-looking steel armor, he had a large mustache and practically no hair on his head.
"Yes Gregor that would be lovely." 'Thane' said. 'Thane' is a strange name, I wonder what kind of land this is. Gregor opened the doors for Thane and she disappeared inside with Varric and Anders. Isabela practically pulled Merrill inside. Yelling something about the cold.
Something felt off. We were obviously Fereldans, generally we were regarded like the plague where ever we went. But here, there was no sense of bigotry towards us. Hawke and Fenris stepped inside, I could feel the welcoming heat rolling out to greet me like mother calling to a child. Every second thought got thrown out the window as I stepped into the house.