The mist clung close to the ground, covering the land in a blanket of chill and deadening all sound within. It rolled and heaved, swirling with clutching tendrils within its ethereal mass. What light managed to pierce the grey-clad depths left whispering beams that turned the air into the hints of rainbows. Peaceful and serene, it was broken only by the tiny movements within.
Every few rotations the wagon's axels groaned in protest while somehow managing to sound like the death throes of a terminally ill skeever. One in particular had been grinding upon Sofia's nerves since they clambered into the wagon that morning and she was glad to see their destination appear through the haze.
"Hey Kaius." With some difficulty she managed to hook her legs over the bundle of carpet and the handful of chests that had been stacked up the back of the wagon and kick the figure lying on the other side. "Wake up. We're here."
Laying as comfortably as he could manage with his pack jammed under his head as a pillow, a gauntleted hand flicked the hood covering his eyes away. "Where's here?"
"The end of the line." Sarcasm dripped from every word as she giggled and gestured to the collection of buildings clustered between the foothills and the swamps. "Where do you think?"
The darkened expression that he sent her direction was enough to wipe the smile off her face, even though she didn't understand the reason for it. He was usually not one to take offense but her words had obviously brought up a memory he had obviously wished to remain buried.
Sitting a still as a statue at the far end of the wagon the third figure sat near, but yet remained aloof from the two of them. Similarly dressed in a full suit of steel armour and wrapped in layers of furs to keep out the biting spring cold, Lydia gazed upon the town with eyes as hard as flint. Carefully and precisely she tested the sturdiness of her shield's arm straps and pushed her helm tight onto her head.
"Expecting a battle are we?" Kaius muttered good naturedly in the housecarl's direction.
For a moment the jingle of the aventail covering both her nape and throat was the loudest sound in the wagon. "A darkness dwells over this settlement my Thane."
"Well… It is Morthal." Sofia had taken a disliking to the grim housecarl the moment Jarl Bulgruuf had placed her into Kaius' service. Permanently on guard and never seeming to relax, Sofia had already developed the habit of verbally baiting her at every available opportunity.
But there was no doubt that Lydia was correct in her assessment. Unlike Whiterun with its colour filled markets, streets awash with sound and children playing on every corner, Morthal was positively foreboding. The main roads slicing their way through the portions that weren't built into the swamps were smoothed with moss and the hints of moisture, the only flowers that any of them could see growing were Nightshade and the rare few mountain flowers struggling for existence. For the most part the entire township was infested with creeping blooms of swamp lichen, and pustular pods of fungus that seemed to sprout like abscesses on diseased flesh.
"Why would anyone willingly live here?" Sofia muttered just a little too loudly, cutting herself all too late and quickly stammering out an apology to the wagon's driver.
"No offence taken." The rough beard growing on Bjorlam's face twitched as he smiled and turned his head slightly. "It might not look like much, but Morthal has a lots to offer."
"Besides the smell of swamp gas and the scenic views of hundreds of kilometres of bogs and marshes?" Kaius chipped in. In the week's journey from Whiterun both he and the wagon's owner had gotten along well and a brief laugh was shared by the both of them.
"It's only eighty kilometres of marshlands. Seventy between here and Solitude as the Raven flies. It does grow on you though."
"Like moss I bet." This time Sofia ensured that her voice didn't travel any further than her lips.
The jolting, jostling motion of the cart over a particularly rough piece of ground made them all jump and left more than one of them swearing.
"Peat, pitch, alchemical ingredients, iron, lumber… Lots of cities in Skyrim rely heavily on what Morthal provides." There was a brief wave of an arm as Bjorlam returned a greeting from one of the few people on the street. "And if it manages to get on a barge to Solitude then there's no telling where in the Empire it may end up."
The three of them looked about at the winding streets and the creaking jetties and platforms stretching out over the shallow marshes. Stone foundations sunk deep into the sodden soil to provide secure footings for most of the buildings, but there were quite a number of them built onto solid soil on the water's edges.
"It is good to be home." They heard their driver mutter to himself, and there was no mistaking the enormous grin that split his face as he laid eyes on a particular dwelling further into the maze of streets.
With a creak and groan of protest from the wagon and its greased axels he pulled back on the reins of the snuffling draughthorse and pulled up outside the two story shack that was his home and business. Behind his wagon, a second pulled up close and a pair of tiny figures immediately ejected themselves from the front seat.
Kaius jumped down with a muffled clank of metal under the layer of furs that he clad himself in. One shoulder was hidden under the empty-eyed head of a black wolf, and his torso was covered by the rest of the creature's skinned remains. "Well, its nicer than Bravil at least." He said, grinning broadly as the pair of children ran straight over to him and immediately attached themselves to his arms.
"Logvorn! Bjanhilde! Would you leave the poor man alone for five minutes!"
The grin on Kaius' face didn't fade as the children hung off his hands, kicking their feet up off the ground and squealing as he lifted them by curling his biceps. Their long-suffering mother could only sigh and shake her head at the sight of the scarred mercenary lifting the six and eight year olds to the chorus of Again! Again!
"I do believe that these belong to you." He said simply, walking over to their father with the two of them dangling off the ground.
Clambering down from his seat at the front of the wagon, Bjorlam shook his head and dragged a travel bag from where it had sat by his side during the trip. "They are more their mother's…"
"Oh no!" Hafine retorted, shaking her head and leaving her braided ponytail flapping about. "You can blame your side of the family for their behaviour!"
Placing the two children onto the ground they both scurried off inside their home as Hafine swung the door open. There was a discrepancy between their size and the thunderous footsteps they were somehow able to make, and within seconds Bjorlam's wife had followed into the home, calling out to their children to stop running, to calm down, or to do anything other than make her hair turn grey from stress.
"Need any help unloading?"
Bjorlam turned and met Kaius' gaze for a moment before giving a grim smile and shaking his head. "I can handle a few boxes and personal possessions." Grunting slightly, he did just that; lifting one of the chests off the back of the wagon and placing it on the ground. "You and your friends have done more than enough to help me and mine."
The soft giggle from Sofia as she shouldered her own pack from its place on the back of the wagon was not lost on any of them. "Those bandits' certainty weren't expecting to find themselves face to face with a living Dragonborn."
"Sofia." Kaius said carefully and precisely. "Shut up."
The amused twinkle in his eye alleviated the coldness of his tone and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Shutting up."
"Seriously though," Bjorlam continued, ignoring their exchange as he rummaged through another one of the chests that he pulled off his wagon. "We are grateful that you came along with us. Between the talk of dragons, skirmishing between the Imperials and Stormcloaks and now bandits everywhere… I think we were lucky to have you with us."
Tugging on some of the chest's contents he managed to pry them loose and to Sofia's delight he withdrew several glass bottles wrapped tightly in bundles of straw. "I don't have much in the way of coin." He said simply, handing a couple to both Kaius and Sofia. "But hopefully this goes a small way towards suitable payment."
"Oh this is the best kind of suitable." Reading over the label and seeing the vintage under the mark of the Black-Briars Sofia's eyes were positively gleaming with anticipation.
"You have my thanks Bjorlam." Both of the bottles that Kaius had been handed were carefully placed into his pack and there was a brief glance between him and Lydia as she shook her head at her own offering. "Any recommendations for a place to stay?"
There was a nod. "The Moorside. Rooms aren't too expensive and the mead isn't watered down." With the bottles that Lydia had refused to take, he gestured in the direction from where they had entered the town. "It's about two blocks and to the right. Just head in the direction of the Jarl's longhouse and you can't miss it."
Pausing briefly to shake each other's hands, Kaius lifted his pack off the age-worn cobblestones and slung it over a fur covered shoulder. A tiny face peered out of the darkened doorway with a face of youth and cheekiness and he spared a moment to smile back.
"Can you at least wait until we find somewhere to sleep?" Striding past with a wave in the direction of the house, Kaius shook his head in amazement as Sofia was trying unsuccessfully to pry the wax stopper out of a bottle with her teeth.
"Booze not drunk is booze wasted." She replied, grimacing and picking a piece of dried wax out of her mouth.
"Well, you might be willing to sleep in the gutter but I'm looking forward to a nice soft bed." His laugh echoed briefly in the streets and unknown to each other, they all realised at the same time that the streets were overwhelming quiet.
Drawing a dagger from its sheath as she turned to follow him, Sofia began digging at the stopper but stopped as Lydia brushed past. The flinty gaze was framed in the eye holes of the spectacle helm, the look of disgust warring with the mask of forced impassiveness that she habitually wore.
"What?"
"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" Lydia's voice was a cold as a glacier and their shared distaste for each other was almost potent enough to make the air shimmer between them.
"It's evening somewhere." The reply was as barbed as it was sarcastic. "You're even worse than the guards."
The snort from the housecarl as she turned and followed Kaius as he made his way down the street made Sofia roll her eyes so hard she was surprised they didn't fly out of her skull.
"I mean why do the guards discourage drunken behaviour when they should be encouraging it?" she continued, following after them and walking as close as she could to Lydia in an attempt to make her uncomfortable. "A drunken person is a happy person."
The pop of the wax stopper was loud enough to make Lydia jump slightly and Sofia grinned victoriously. "And I'm going to be a very happy person." She said, feeling the warmth of the first mouthful of mead seeping into her belly.
The Moorside Inn was typically Nordic; well built, sturdy and warm from the roaring hearth built into its centre. Tall walls and sloping ceiling with a single capped vent in the highest point allowed the smoke and haze from the fire to escape without letting the warmth escape and dozens of tables, chairs and stools were laid about the interior in a seemingly haphazard fashion. What it didn't seem to contain was patrons, and as the trio entered they found themselves the centre of attention to the handful of people within.
"Well… This looks inviting." The bottle mead was already half drained as Sofia stepped in behind Kaius and peered around him. Other than a couple of guards, a towering orc somehow squeezed into a split sleeved doublet and the inn's proprietor, the inn was entirely empty.
"And with as much cheer as a temple of Arkay." Kaius muttered, giving a rough smile to the collection of mail wearing guards and the Orc who seemed to be either attempting to play or strangle the lute he was holding.
"Finally, someone comes in." Placing down a couple of glasses she had been busying herself with, the owner of the Inn stepped around the carved stone bar and walked in their direction. "I'm Jonna. Let me know if there's anything I can help you with." Bitterness creeped into her voice as she regarded the mostly empty Inn. "I got nothing but time these days."
"Afternoon," Politely returning the greeting, he looked between the orc and the guards as they returned to their own drinks. "We're looking to stay a night or two. Possibly more."
There was no mistaking the relief on Jonna's face as she moved over to them. "There ain't much to offer, but if you wanna dry place to spend the nights, I'll rent you a room." She looked between Kaius, Sofia and Lydia and noted the way they all stood and the tenseness that was present between them. "Or maybe three…"
"Sounds good to me." With a single nod, Kaius turned and looking briefly at Lydia while reaching for one of the pouches he had at his belt.
As he rummaged for coins, Lydia moved over to one of the larger tables, her eyes never ceasing in their movement and taking in the surroundings. Sofia was already through her first bottle of mead and puffed her cheeks out and blew loudly in the direction of the taller woman. In the past weeks, Sofia didn't think that she had ever seen the housecarl relax for even a moment. She was always on guard and watching everything and everyone who came close to Kaius and several times she had left Sofia with the impression that a trained wardog would have been less alert.
With their rooms paid for up front, Kaius, like his two companions quickly shed the layers of furs in the more comfortable temperature of the Inn. Spring may have broken winter's grip on the lands but there were few places in Skyrim where the temperature would be pleasant. Hjaalmarch was not known to be overly habitable at the best of times and most of the locals, like Bjorlam and his family moved south in the winters before the mountain passes and roads were blocked by snowfall.
"So what can I git you all?" Jonna asked as she made the small collection of copper and silver septims disappear into her pockets.
"Mead." Sofia immediately stated, despite working on the wax stopper of her second bottle with gusto while making a point to ignore Lydia's dark expression.
The spectacle helm thumped onto the top of the table as Lydia ran her fingers through the long braids that hung down the side of her face. With precise movements, she smoothed them back over the shaved portion of her skull that allowed her padded coif to sit snugly under her helm. "I'll have a something to eat. Soup if possible."
"Mead is like soup."
Kaius made a long suffering sigh in Sofia's direction and finished unbuckling his sword. With a rattling clunk it too was added to the collection of items on the table and they could all see Jonna's eyes gazing upon the building collection of weaponry and armour on its surface.
"Any roasts?" he said, the wooden bench creaking alarmingly as his armoured weight settled onto it.
"Duck or venison?"
"Duck sounds good to me." He nodded his thanks to Jonna as she moved towards the rear of the inn after confirming what sort of soup Lydia wanted.
"So, what's the plan o'great and masterful hero?"
A pair of daggers were added to the collection, and jolt of Lydia's axe being leant up against the table was felt through the soles of their feet. As usual, she placed it where it was easily accessible at a moment's notice. Sofia also saw how she had sat with her back to the wall, facing outwards where she could watch everyone and everything in the tavern at all times.
"We gather supplies; enough for a few days' journey at least and then head north." Kaius said simply, looking about the room and wincing at how the Orc continued mangling whatever he was attempting to play.
"To Ustengrav." With a gloved finger, Lydia scratched at the side of her head, using the steel plate of the gauntlet to rub where her hair was slowly growing after being shaved a few days before.
"Where you need to find the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller." The second wax stopper popped out and Sofia immediately took a swig. "I had heard he was a little horny."
"That wasn't the best joke the first time you said it."
The mead was already filling her with a warmth that couldn't be matched by a warm hearth. "Yeah… Sorry. Even for me it's a terrible one."
"We don't have enough coin for any serious undertaking." Lydia's voice as always, was cold and devoid of emotion. Not for the first time Sofia sat staring at the housecarl, wondering whether she was some fiendishly clever dwemer automaton made to appear human.
Sighing loudly, Kaius slumped somewhat and nodded. "True. I was hoping that there was going to be work here for us, but judging by the state of this place I doubt we'll find much."
"I still don't know why we didn't do further contracts with the Companions before we left." Leaning back in her chair, Sofia shrugged and began taking careful sips instead of mouthfuls from her bottle. "I mean; it's not like they were having any trouble with contracts after everyone found out they had the Dragonborn with them."
As it always did, the mention of his unofficial honorific made Kaius wince. "They had jobs on offer but not many that we were able to do."
"Meaning Vilkas was still pissed with the way you put him on his arse."
"Well… Yes. In a way."
Snorting into her mead, Sofia giggled, feeling the alcohol starting to dig its warm fingers into her mind. "I don't know what you did to piss Skjor off though."
"We had differences in our professional opinions."
Both Lydia and Sofia raised eyebrows at that. "And Aela?" she continued.
"Same deal. They offered membership in the Circle."
The silence was deafening and Kaius looked up as Jonna appeared with a platter of food still steaming from the fire. Leaving a fresh bottle of Honningbrew for Sofia, Kaius' duck and Lydia's bowl of soup, they all sat quietly until she returned to behind the bar.
Lydia for once seemed to share feelings with Sofia. "You refused such an honour my thane?"
A leg was ripped from the body on the plate and teeth dug into the flesh. Chewing carefully and gathering his thoughts he glanced between the two of them before swallowing. "Yes. I was unable to take part in what they required of me." A bone snapped as he ripped the drumstick away from the rest of the leg. "They are still discussing what to do."
The tone of his voice left a chill crawling its way up Sofia's spine that no amount of fire or alcohol could remove. It was a tone she had heard several times over the previous months that they had travelled together, and one that only she knew the true meaning of. He was subtly letting Sofia know that whatever had happened, it had something to do with his true nature.
"So now what? We go begging in the streets?"
"Not really." Leaning back on the bench he looked over to the bar where Jonna was refilling the local guard's flagons with some potent, locally brewed ale. "Hey, Jonna. Is there any work going in town?"
At the sound of his voice the orc stopped strumming on the lute momentarily, giving everyone's ears a brief respite from the audial torture he was subjecting them to. The guards stopped their conversation as well, turning and looking at the trio with interest.
Jonna's expression was grave but she thought to herself momentarily as she continued providing the guards refills. There was no mistaking the way that her eyes briefly returned to the collection of weapons and armour that Kaius, Sofia and Lydia had piled on the table.
"Not much for adventurers or mercenaries I'm afraid. Morthal is quiet."
"Business slow?"
The comment made the guardsmen, Jonna and even the orc chuckle. "Slow? No, it just ain't there at all. Few enough reasons to pass through Morthal before the war started, let alone all this talk of dragons. Now…?" The sigh this time was almost heart breaking. "Well, let's just say the front door doesn't get much use."
"Her back door must be getting all the attention instead." What started as a giggle was cut off in mid breath as Kaius turned and gave her a withering stare that he usually reserved for supporters of the Thalmor.
Sheepishly and with more than just mead reddening her cheeks, she ducked her head and looked away until he turned back to Jonna and the guards.
"If you lot are really looking for work," One of the guards said, spinning around on the bench he was seated on and rubbing at a shoulder clad in chainmail. "the Jarl might have something."
"A bounty?" there was no denying the sudden surge that flowed through Kaius at the potential for a fight.
The bearded face shook. "Nah. A few weeks back there was a fire that burned down a house."
"Oi!" One of his comrades elbowed him in the ribs with a hissed warning. "It's bad luck to talk about that place."
"Bugger off Sjarne you superstitious bastard." The first guard shrugged off the hand of his fellow with a good natured elbow of his own. "The old Raven's been looking for someone who isn't as superstitious as this idiot. Be lookin' for a fool if you ask me."
"The Raven?" the look of confusion was evident on Lydia's face.
"Our Jarl." Jonna moved over and collected Sofia's empty bottle. "Idgrod Ravencrone. See; a few weeks ago Hroggar's house burned down. It was a real pity about his wife and kid."
Kaius' interest was replaced with a darkness that Sofia had seen several times before, but only when Kaius had been deep and thought and didn't think she was paying much attention. "They didn't make it?"
The expressions that the guards shared as they took careful mouthfuls of their flagons said more than what words could.
"Especially in a town this size, a tragedy like this strikes everyone. It didn't help that the screams woke up half the town. Most folk won't go near it now for fear it's cursed."
For a moment the mead released its growing grip on her mind and Sofia's voice was soft. "How did the fire start?"
"Hroggar claims it was a hearth fire. Some Folks say Hroggar started it himself."
"With his wife and child inside?" The steely edge of Kaius' voice was growing stronger by the second and matched the blade resting on the table.
"That's what they say." The jug of ale threatened to spill as she shrugged. "See… he's living with Alva now. That started the day after the fire."
"Alva is one fine piece of arse…" In the group of hold guards there was a muted snickering as they knocked flagons together.
This time it was Jonna's turn to provide a withering stare at her patrons and they quickly made apologies. "It ain't right, movin' in with a new love the day after your kin die like that."
"And of course it can't be proven that he murdered them." By now the edge in Kaius' voice was sharp enough to cut through dragonscale and even Lydia, as inexperienced with her Thane as she was, knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Aye." Jonna moved over and pronounced her words extremely carefully, enunciating each word carefully with the meaning hidden, but not so hidden at the same time. "Our Jarl would sure like to know if he did though. Might even pay to find out…"
She turned away, moving back towards the bar area to gain a further refill and the guardsmen shared a look with Kaius that needed no translation. Chewing on his lip and wiping grease and duck fat onto the sleeves of his chainmail hauberk he glanced between Lydia and Sofia.
"Aw… Really?" Sofia whined.
"Yes. Really." He said. "And you might want to be sober when we meet the Jarl."
Eyeing off her third bottle she licked her lips in contemplation of the wide spectrum of what she considered sober. "I can't make any promises."
A gauntleted fist swiped the bottle of mead from where it sat in front of her and his grin would have put an ice wraith to shame as he wriggled it in front of her. "Consider this bottle a payment for coming with me."
For a moment she wondered whether her expression had enough power to set him on fire. "Fine. Just because you have some fancy title doesn't make me your servant. Remember that."