Skyrim's First Ranger

Author here. I own nothing. Wouldn't be writing this crap if I did ;)

Our scene begins aboard a long boat heading for Solitude. Capital of Skyrim and a province of Tamriel. A strong wind fills the sail, propelling it towards the docks ahead. The water is calm so there is little rocking for the passengers and sailors on deck, all of which are human except for one.

A female, she is walking through the crowd of people towards the front. Her four foot stature would suggest that making her way pass the crowd would prove difficult. Her being a strong, proud dwarf would not. She easily pushes aside anyone who would not politely let her pass. Her hair is long, brown, and tied in a ponytail. She is dressed in chain mail, covered by a leather jerkin with heavy steel toed boots on her feet. A single bladed broad axe is tied to her back, along with a large dirk resting just above her back side. Uncharacteristic of her race, even females, is the complete lack of facial hair. Her skin in fact is very smooth except for one scar running to the side form her forehead to her cheek. It is also tan from so much time spent with her traveling companion on the surface. Another characteristic uncommon among dwarves.

Her companion is actually the one she is trying to reach at the bow of the ship. Finally reaching her target she stands next to a human man looking out towards the shore, one of his legs propped up on the railing. Not being overly tall, he still towers over the female dwarf standing next to him. He has two blades strapped to his back, side by side. One is a long sword that can be wielded both one-handed and two-handed. The other is long sword as well. Only this one is broken to nearly a quarter of its original length, now resembling a large dagger more than a sword. His eyes have a faraway look in them. As if he is dreaming. Seeing this, the dwarf decides to break him out of his stupor.

"We'll be docking soon" she says in strong, Gallic voice. "Be glad to be on dry land after all these weeks at sea. A dwarf should be on dry land ya know."

"Then why didn't you stay home Barda?"

"Oh the mute ranger decides to speak! Well miracles do exist." Her excitement is obviously fake, but no less exaggerated by her hands held spread apart. One of them clapping the ranger on the back nearly sending him over board. "You know my brother didn't want you travelling alone."

Regaining his footing, the ranger looks down at his traveling companion. Wondering why he had to be stuck with her.

"So he sends you to watch over me like a child?"

"Exactly!"

The ranger sighs before turning back towards the ever nearing shore of this strange land.

"Wonderful."


The long boat has just been tied off at the docks. All passengers are now lined up to be checked in by guardsmen, including the ranger and Barda. One of the guards is standing on a large crate, an elvish blade dangling from his hip as a sign of high rank. His voice carries across the crowded line of people, explaining that 'this is a time of civil war,' every precaution is being taken to protect the empire' and 'your safety is our top priority.'

"HA!" Cries Barda. "Like we need the safety of a couple of milk drinking guardsmen. I'll take ya and this here broad axe over these jesters any day of tha week." She points with her thumb to the large battle axe behind her.

"They're just being cautious." The ranger assures. "It's not often people from our home-land visit Tamriel."

"Still ain't sure what we're doing here."

"You two!" Cries one of the guards to the companions. "Step forward."

The dwarf and ranger step forward to a wooden table with two officials checking the passengers into the city. Barda sets her large leather travel bag on the table for inspection. As one of the officials riffles through the contents of her bag, the other proceeded to ask them questions about their visit to Skyrim.

"How many in your party?"

"Two dumb ass." Responds Barda. "Counting not one of the requisites for guards huh?"

Not bothering to fall prey to this short woman's bantering, the official continues with his questions.

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business."

"Oh I don't know ranger." Barda wraps her arm around the ranger's waist, a mischievous look in her eye. "We might find some pleasure in our travels aye?" She finished with a wink.

"Don't touch me."

"Eh hmm" the guard interrupted. "Can I assume by the number of weapons you are carrying on your person that your business is mercenary work?" He gestured to the bag now empty of its contents on the table. The contents being a few articles of men and women's clothing. The men's being long and slim, the woman's being short and wide. The majority of the bag's contents were weapons: knives, short swords, arrows, a recurve bow, and small spherical metal containers. One of which was trying to be opened by the second guard who had emptied the bag. Grunting in annoyance as it would not budge.

"I don't know" the woman responded, crossing her arms below her generous breasts. "We could be opening a blacksmith shop. Ever think about that laddie?"

"We are hoping to join the Imperial Legion" lied the ranger. "Heard they appreciate you bringing your own gear."

"That they do" the guard agreed as he scribbled more writing on his sheet.

"Ugh!" the other guard grunted as he tossed the metal ball back into the bag. "I can't get those things open!"

"What are in these containers?" The first guard asked.

"Blasting p…."

"Nothing" the ranger cuts Barda off. "Their hollow to make them lighter. You throw them at your enemies head to render them unconscious."

"Uh huh" the guard mouthed in such a way as to show that he didn't believe the ranger in the slightest. The second guard seemed to be satisfied with their answers however, as he began to repack the large bag. Or he just didn't care.

"For the love of Akatosh, just sign them in and let's move on."

"Fine. Names?"

"I am Barda, of Erebor" answered the woman.

"And you?"

"Talion, of Gondor."

The guard logged their names away. After being told they were free to go and not to cause trouble, they left to find the main road out of Solitude. Barda grabbed their bag form the guard who, was having a hard time lifting the heavy thing, and hefted it over her shoulder like it weighed nothing. Laughing to herself at the astonished look the human gave her.

A few hours of walking later found the pair within sight of Dragon's Bridge. The sun had just started it's decent into the mountains to the west. A tavern was outlined by recently let lamps and torches. Same with the patrol men out and about looking for trouble makers.

"Please tell me we're stopping here for the night" Barda dramatically cried to the ranger. "My feet are killing me!"

Talion only chuckled at her childish complaints. "Maybe if you wore shoes made for walking and not boots made for war?"

"HA! We'll see if you say that when an uruks' blade cuts your pretty little toes off eh?"

"So you think my toes are pretty?"

They both laughed at each other's jabs as they entered the tavern. Barda's laugh was loud and boisterous, common of her people. While the ranger's was more reserved and quiet, common of his vocation. Both their laughing and movement stopped dead when they saw the majority of the occupants in the building. As did the occupants' conversation when they saw the two travelers.

Talion was the first to break the silence with a single word.

"Orcs"

Author here. I am thinking of doing this story instead of "Our Skyrim." That story just didn't seem to flow like this one. And while I truly believe that Maximus is the ultimate Medieval Badass, Talion from Shadows of Mordor isn't far behind. Let me know what you think. Trying to work on the grammar.