17th of Last Seed, Sundas, 4E 201
It was a shame, he decided, that he had to lay eyes on the most beautiful man he'd ever seen when he was in line to get executed. It was also probably the gods giving him one more chance to appreciate how many times he'd escaped death. That idiot Lokir had run off and gotten himself a back full of arrows, something Peryn didn't much fancy. Better to get your head chopped nice and quick than bleed out on the street.
"Wait," the Nord Peryn had spent the last few minutes watching said, looking at his list in confusion. "You there, step forward." Hardly necessary to say who he meant, Peryn thought. He was the last one in this line of the damned.
"Who are you?" he asked. Gods, Peryn hadn't even paid attention to that voice before now. It was beautiful, though he couldn't say why. But he couldn't look at the man too long, this wasn't the time.
"Peryn," he said, then coughed as he heard his own voice come out weak and unsure. "My name is Peryn Gaerton."
"You from Daggerfall, Breton? Fleeing from some court intrigue?" the Nord asked.
Peryn looked down at his feet. "There's more to High Rock than Daggerfall. I'm from Wayrest."
"What do we do, captain?" He asked. Peryn got a good look at his eyes as he—gods, this wasn't the time. He needed to stop this. He sent a quick prayer to Mara to let him not fall for someone who was going to kill him in a few minutes.
"Forget the list," the captain said. She was a lovely figure, that's for sure. Damn Empire and their damn regulations to be ignored whenever they felt like it. Peryn knew that was a little uncharitable, and all he'd seen of this gods-forsaken province was a warzone, so he couldn't blame her much, but still. To Oblivion with her.
The man looked as though he was going to argue for a second, then thought better of it. "By your orders, Captain. I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock." Peryn nodded, a little surprised to hear genuine regret in the Nord's voice. Not that he could blame a foot solider for not arguing with a superior officer when a general was in the vicinity. No point getting yourself hanged for treason. Or he could just get in line on for the block.
The general was talking to the man who'd been identified as the leader of this little rebellion Peryn had just gotten himself mixed up in. Peryn didn't see the need for the gloating, but there he was anyway, listening to the general give a little speech.
Then he heard the roar. Nobody but him and the secretary of a solider noticed. "What was that?" the man asked.
"It's nothing," the general said, though Peryn noticed that his speech had been cut short. "Carry on."
After the priest had been so rudely interrupted by someone a little too eager to die, it was Peryn's turn. The captain had seemed almost gleeful to call for him.
A second roar sounded as the solider placed his hand on Peryn's back to guide him to the block. "Did you hear that?" he asked. Peryn was glad for the timing, because it made his flinch seem more as a result of the noise than the touch.
"I said next prisoner!" The captain certainly was in a rush at the moment.
"To the block, Peryn. Nice and easy." Peryn was certainly happy that the Nord behind him remembered his name, but wasn't sure if he should be grateful or irritated by being led to the block. He settled on both.
And then Oblivion broke loose, delivered by a dragon. Peryn didn't remember much of what happened, mostly that there was a lot of running and a lot of screaming, and then he was following the Imperial solider into the keep.
"Looks like we're the only ones who made it. Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?" he said, shaking his head. "We should keep moving. Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off."
Once Peryn had stepped closer to let him cut off the bindings, the Nord went rooting around in one of the chests laying against a bed. "Here we go," he said, handing Peryn some armor and a sword.
"You really think giving someone who was almost executed a weapon is a good idea?" he asked as he put the armor on.
"No," he said. "But I don't have much choice right now. Besides, I like the look of you. You're a good man, Peryn, you won't kill me."
Hadvar wasn't entirely sure why he trusted the Breton, but it didn't matter much. He didn't think they were getting out alive if he didn't give Peryn some way to defend himself, and he wasn't going to just leave him there. The poor man didn't deserve to die because he got mixed up with the Stormcloaks, whether it was by axe or by dragon.
They moved on through the keep, soon running into a pair of Stormcloaks mourning a dead one. "Maybe we can try and reason with them," he said.
"You Imperials tried to kill their leader a few minutes ago," Peryn said. "I somehow doubt they'll be in a mood to talk."
"They're still Nords, even if they are misguided," Hadvar said. "They deserve a chance to get out of here alive."
"Would they give you, or me, that same courtesy?" Peryn asked, unconvinced.
"Look, we don't have time for this," Hadvar said, "I'm going to try."
"And I'm going to keep my sword out."
Peryn was right, much to Hadvar's disappointment. He didn't even have a chance to try to talk to the Stormcloaks before they attacked. What a waste of lives, he thought.
They made their way through the keep, running into occasional groups of Stormcloaks that Hadvar didn't even bother trying to talk to. He noticed that Peryn didn't say anything about the first pair, and was grateful for it.
They got out of the torturer's room as quickly as they could, neither Hadvar nor Peryn much liking the place. And when the bridge collapsed, trapping the old man inside, well, that was just fine by Hadvar. If anyone deserved to die today, it was that bastard.
And then they were out. The dragon made one last past behind the barrow and then flew off.
"Thank the gods we got out. Looks like he's gone for good this time. But I don't think we should stick around to find out," Hadvar said.
"Where are you headed?" Peryn asked.
"Ah, right, you're new to Skyrim," Hadvar said. "Listen, my uncle Alvor is the blacksmith in Riverwood, a town not too far from here. Come with me there, and we'll see what's next."
As the two of them went along, Hadvar pointed out most of the things he knew of the area. He took Peryn to the Guardian Stones, making an approving comment when the Breton accepted the blessing of the warrior. He pointed out the barrow on the mountain, and talked about the nightmares it gave him when he was a kid. Peryn ran along beside him, listening intently to all of it. While they were stopped at the Stones, Hadvar took a moment to look at his new companion. Like most other Bretons he'd met, Peryn was shorter than Hadvar, though he was more muscular than most of his people. He certainly had shown no trouble keeping up through the fighting and running in Helgen, though Hadvar wasn't sure how much of that could be chalked up to pure adrenaline.
It was nearly dusk when they entered Riverwood, and Uncle Alvor was putting away his tools at his forge for the night when Hadvar and Peryn made it up to the house. It took a few minutes for Hadvar to get his uncle inside and prevent a scene—Talos knows that wouldn't help a damn thing—but eventually he was able to get Alvor and Peryn inside so he could explain what had happened.
Uncle Alvor didn't believe it at first, of course he didn't: Hadvar barely believed it himself, but eventually he went pale as he realized that Hadvar was completely serious.
"Gods above," he said. "The Jarl needs to know there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless."
"I can go tell him," Peryn said.
"Are you sure? You went through a lot the last couple days, getting caught in that ambush and then the dragon attack," Hadvar said.
"Just give me a spot on the floor tonight and I can head out in the morning," the Breton said, sounding as exhausted as Hadvar feared he was.
"I'll stay here for a few days and see if I can't get a head start on the defenses here," Hadvar said. "Then I'll make my way back to Solitude."
He later was able to pull Peryn away from Dorthe long enough to get him to the inn for a quick drink, one they both needed desperately.
"You know, you should go to Solitude and join up with the Imperial Legion. We could really use someone like you."
"After you lot just tried to chop my head off?" Peryn snorted.
"Look, I know today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance. The Legion could really use someone like you, especially now. And you weren't supposed to be on the cart with those Stormcloaks."
"I'll have to think about it," Peryn said.
"Sure, I understand. It's not easy to go from being executed by the Legion one day to joining up the next. But as far as I'm concerned you've already earned your pardon. Just be careful until we get that confirmed with General Tullius, alright? I don't expect anybody will recognize you, but I don't want you getting killed over this." It wasn't until he stopped talking that Hadvar noticed he'd put his hand on the Breton's shoulder. He withdrew it quickly.
Peryn had intended to leave for Whiterun the next day, but after getting involved with a pair of idiots who were after the same girl and being forced to play saboteur, well he helped the nice idiot instead of the rude idiot and put him well on the path to having a wife. Turns out the girl's brother was robbed earlier in the week, and wanted some help getting back whatever was taken.
Peryn had asked Hadvar to help with it, promising to go to Whiterun as soon as they finished but Hadvar refused to have anything to do with that old barrow.
"I don't think the situation here is that desperate, so don't worry about going," he had said, "But that old place gives me the creeps, even now."
Peryn was a little disappointed not to have Hadvar by his side as he went into the barrow, but he figured Camilla's suitor would do just as well. Between him, Faendal, and his familiar, they made quick work of the bandits.
"Arvel the Swift, eh?" he said, looking the man who was tied up by the spider's webs up and down. "Can't think of anything good that would get you that name."
"Yeah, yeah just cut me down!" He'd said. Naturally he took off as soon as Peryn did so, and Peryn would have admitted, if pressed, that hearing the man's scream as he was impaled on a spike trap was more than a little satisfying.
In the end, they made it out with the claw and an interesting stone that Peryn had found on the last of the dragur they killed. He also heard something as they passed near a wall with some kind of carvings on it. Faendal didn't hear a thing.
23rd of Last Seed, Loredas, 4E 201
Peryn had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince the Jarl of two things: one, that he had absolutely no business caught up in that rebellion nonsense, and two, that just because he had escaped Helgen did not mean he had any more experience fighting dragons than anybody else in the Hold. In fact, as his hands were bound during the attack, he literally could not do anything besides run like all Oblivion was chasing him. Though he had certainly made an impression when he grinned like a wolf telling Balgruuf that he'd had the best view of dragon than anybody due to being on the block at the time. The Jarl was clearly made uncomfortable by the statement, and Peryn relished the feeling of making it clear to him that while Balgruuf had the power, Peryn didn't give a damn. He'd been cheating death for the last decade and a half; you had to do far better than slouch on a throne to intimidate him.
It was unlucky, then, that the strange rock he'd picked up in the barrow near Riverwood happened to be exactly what Farengar was looking for. The man was clearly surprised to see the Dragonstone appear in his hands right after asking someone to get it. Peryn laughed at his expression.
The amusement was short lived, however, as Ireleth came running back from the door with news of a dragon sighting in the area. And that was how Peryn found himself standing on top of the ruins of a watchtower, shooting arrows at a dragon. The damn thing taunted them while raining fire from above, killing several of the guards the Jarl had sent to try and protect his Hold. But eventually it couldn't take any more arrows piercing its hide and collapsed on the ground with a scream.
Peryn didn't know who got the kill, himself or one of the remaining guards on the ground, but it didn't matter in the end. The dragon was dead. He came down from the watchtower to join the men as they stood around the corpse of the dragon, watching in hushed awe at the beast they had just killed. The group quickly became uneasy as the dragon began to glow, and collectively lost their mind when the wind picked up and the light became too bright to look at. Peryn closed his eyes, and when he was able to open them again, there was only a dragon skeleton left.
The gods, Peryn decided, could go fuck themselves. And just to annoy them he was going to take his lovely new Fire Atronach and his rather sarcastic sworn sword to Solitude instead of up to the top of an extremely tall mountain.
Of course, things never work out quite that well, and he ended up getting roped into doing a couple of favors around town. But tomorrow, he decided, almost a week after he left Riverwood, he was going to join the bloody legion and put off this whole Dragonborn business for as long as he could.
"Hail, friend," he heard from over his shoulder. The man who had spoken was certainly not a friend, in fact, Peryn hadn't talked to him before, though he'd seen him around Whiterun during his stay at the Bannered Mare. That's where he was now, watching Lydia talk about how they'd almost gotten killed to whoever would listen to the story, clearly being mildly derogative towards her Thane's breeding and intelligence. He wished she'd be more creative.
Peryn turned to look at the man who'd sat down next to him. He was huge, to put it simply. Probably half a head taller than Peryn was, and with the armor he was wearing, looked like he could easily snap Peryn's neck if he so desired. Peryn immediately thought it was a good idea to make sure he never got the urge.
"What can I help you with?" he asked. The man laughed.
"You don't recognize me. I guess that's not too surprising, since you're new and all. Name's Farkas. I'm with the Companions."
"Peryn," he said, tipping his tankard forward in greeting.
"I don't know if you remember, but you helped me kill a giant a few days ago. Probably when you first got to Whiterun." Farkas said. "Aela said you should come by Jorvaskar and join us. She said I should come and collect since you haven't been by."
"I'm guessing the mead is just a benefit?" Peryn said with a wry smile.
"Nah, Jorvaskar's a mead hall anyway, and it's the same stuff. Just different people. Haven't had a good chat with Lydia in weeks before tonight, so it was good to get to see her."
"So what do you want with me?"
Farkas looked at him strangely. "I thought I told you. I'm here to get you to join the Companions."
"And what exactly does that mean?" Peryn asked, shifting to face the Companion.
"You fight with us, for honor. You share in our legends. You become a Shield-Brother to me and the rest of Jorvaskar." Farkas' eyes shone as he talked about the hall, the people who lived there and fought at his side, and Peryn couldn't help but be interested in at least dropping by in the morning and seeing what the Companions were like. If nothing else, they seemed like an interesting bunch.
After being able to wield a sword well enough to convince Vilkas that he wasn't hopeless, Peryn spent the rest of the day running errands for the Circle. Not that they were treating him like a child, he would have left immediately if that were the case, but there was clearly an attempt to establish hierarchy and get him to get used to being on the bottom.
Not that he would have to stick around and endure it for very long. There were some perks to being Thane, and Peryn also told the Harbinger that he had been summoned to High Hrothgar. Kodlak Whitemane was a smart one, and told him that to have a Dragonborn as a Shield-Brother meant that some things were going to be…different than usual. Rather than having a training regimen like the rest of the whelps, he was free to come and go as he pleased, since he had other business that was written in an Elder Scroll to take care of.
He made sure to do the job that Farkas gave him before he left, killing some bandits that were harassing travelers as a show of good faith. They had holed up in an old fort of some kind crossing the White River east of the city. Going up against the atronach, Lydia, and Peryn, they were easily outmatched. Peryn realized just how useful this Shouting business could be when he tried to knock a bandit down and ended up Shouting him off the narrow bridge and down to the river
The morning after reporting success to Farkas, Peryn and Lydia began traveling west toward Solitude. The trip was cold and thankfully uneventful, though Peryn wished that maybe something would happen. He had considered a small detour to Morthal for the variety but Lydia was quite against it.
"Don't go to Morthal, my Thane. Everything in the Hold wants to kill you, and the people there think knowing a healing spell makes you a daedra. Hardly a place for a spellsword like yourself." She had said.
"At least Morthal has warm beds," Peryn said, wrapping his furs more tightly around himself.
"Aye, but if you want to die warm, you can just get that atronach to roast you. I promise it'll be more pleasant than Hjaalmarch."
9th Heartfire, Tirdas, 4E201
"Solitude," Lydia said with a sigh as they neared the gates. "Home of more people than I care to count who have inflated opinions of themselves and their own importance."
"A good number of them have packed into Windhelm, too, if I recall." Peryn said.
"Aye, this war is good for absolutely nothing except egos. I've heard of people bragging that their grain goes to feed an army. Like it matters who makes bread from what wheat." She shook her head.
"Ah, but are you really a True Nord if you help the wrong side in any way?" Peryn asked.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're joking, but I've heard people say basically that. Soon they'll be asking beggars which side they're on before giving them a septim. Can't give charity to a damned Imperial beggar, after all."
"That'll work well with the with us or against us attitude," Peryn mused.
They were just in time for an execution. Apparently there were just getting around to killing the guy who'd let Ulfric out of the city. Peryn was surprised that they hadn't killed him months ago, as soon as this rebellion started. He guessed the Empire didn't see the need to create a martyr back when this was some provincial rebellion instead of a full blown civil war in the province.
They didn't have time to dwell on the execution; it was already late afternoon and Peryn wanted to get to the Legion headquarters as soon as he could. He caught himself looking for Hadvar among the faces of the guards, only noticing that they weren't Legionnaires when he saw their shields. As he and Lydia approached Caste Dour, though, the guards became Legion soldiers again, and he resumed looking for Hadvar.
General Tullius was arguing with another officer about Jarl Balgruuf's insistence on appearing neutral in the war when Peryn entered the castle. He understood the general's frustration: the Stormcloaks weren't likely to appreciate neutrality, what with their idea that everyone who wasn't on their side was a traitor to Skyrim. When he'd asked the Jarl about it before leaving Whiterun, Peryn had cautioned him that the city couldn't be neutral forever.
"My Jarl, I will respect your decision either way, but you must know that one side or the other is going to make a move to force us to join them."
"And if they do then I'll make my decision then, but I will not risk my Hold being ravaged and my people being slaughtered for naught."
"Those will happen regardless of which side you take, including no side at all."
"There will be a day, and I fear it soon, that I have to declare in this idiotic war. Until then, I refuse to get involved."
"Yes, my Jarl."
"And where are you going?"
"To smith more arrows for the men. Gods know they'll need them if they're the only line of defense the city has."
"Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?" the general asked, snapping Peryn out of his thoughts.
"I'm Peryn Gaerton," he said. "I believe we've met."
"Have we? Oh. Of course. You were at Helgen! One of the prisoners, if I recall correctly. There something I can do for you? Perhaps direct you to the nearest prison..."
Peryn grimaced. "I'd rather go back to the block in truth, sir."
"That could easily be arranged," Tullius said, with a pointed look. "So how about you tell me why you're really here."
"Hadvar suggested I enlist after we got out of Helgen. He said he'd put in a good word for me."
"Hadvar's alive? I hope that's true. He's a damn good soldier. But he hasn't reported in yet, so he can't exactly confirm your story. Until he does…no, I can't risk that. Until he does, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you into custody. Can't allow a Stormcloak spy to get in by murdering my men and claiming to know them. Guards!"
"You can't imprison him for absolutely nothing!" Lydia said, turning red with anger.
"Easy, Lydia, no point causing a fight we'll lose." Peryn said, putting a hand in front of Lydia in warning.
"Sir, I think that's a little unnecessary," the other Imperial officer said, moving over from the war map.
When Lydia and the general both responded at the same time, well, the situation dissolved into two pairs of people yelling at each other, much to the confusion the nearby guards, who pointedly tried not to pay attention to their general and their Legate fight over whether the newcomer should go to the dungeon or not, and the newcomer try to argue with his companion why that would be perfectly fine for a day or two if she would just try to find Hadvar in the meantime.
The guards looked at each other and decided that yes, they did in fact all need drinks, good, stiff ones, as soon as their shifts were over. Gods help them.