An Astoran in Skyrim

Chapter 2: Welcome to Whiterun

Welcome back, my readers! Welcome back! I do hope you appreciate and enjoy this update, which was started shortly after the first chapter went up, because damn it, this story is fun to write! All rambling aside, enjoy!

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First Journal Entry: I am Markus, Knight of Astora, and I am lost.

I know not of this place I have arrived to, this Skyrim, and while it seems to be a dangerous place, it is still leagues better than the constant threat of Lordran. There are towns, cities and forts, all of which are at least tolerant of you, far better than everyone trying to kill you.

To be honest, I have nearly forgotten how money and such works, being so used to paying merchants in souls. The embarrassment when I tried to pay the general store owner by transmitting souls to him was amusing to my companions, but not so much for me. But it was good embarrassment, as it shows I am remembering the ways of civilization.

I cannot even begin to tell you how good it felt when I first felt hunger, for the first time since… I can't even remember, honestly. Thirst, hunger, tiredness, all of these are sensations I shall have to get used to again. There are other more… embarrassing sensations. Lust hit me fairly hard the first time I felt it… that was a moment best left forgotten by both me and the woman involved.

As for my companions, I have decided; I will take on Haming as my page. I no not if this is against the laws of knighthood, nor do I care. Ralof and I tried to get him to stay in town, but he wants to come with me. I will need to get him a proper weapon, and soon. Ralof has chosen to leave us, and return to Windhelm, home of the Stormcloaks, to try to find Ulfric.

On the monetary side of things… I need to make money. I have taken on a part time job at the mill, which should pay for a short while once I head to Whiterun, which is apparently the center of this region of Skyrim. There I will try to find work, maybe as a sellsword, at least until I can find somewhere to settle more permanently.

The dragon attack has shaken up the locals, and I have been requested to tell the local Jarl that Riverwood is defenseless. I agreed, and will set off in the morning. I will take Haming with me, and find somewhere to stay. Perhaps the Jarl will have a job for me.

Signed, Sir Markus of Astora

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"So now we're headed to Whiterun?" Haming asked, following me over the bridge just outside of town with our pack of supplies, including clothes and food.

"Yes. I'm hoping the Jarl has work for us." I answered.

"Maybe he'll want us to kill some bandits, or hunt a giant, or search an old tomb, or even…" The boy went on as I chuckled.

"The first guess was probably the best." I said.

We continued down the road, the journey feeling more like a pleasant morning stroll than an adventure through unknown territory. Then, we found ourselves on a small ledge, overlooking the plains of Whiterun. I gasped.

They were beautiful. The flatlands were covered in grass and shrubbery, broken up by rocky streams and rivers, ringed by mountains. The last time I had been stunned by the beauty of a place in this way was when I had first arrived in Anor Londo!

I shrugged off the feeling and we continued on our merry way, walking down the path, only to see several Imperial soldiers just ahead. I stopped suddenly, Haming bumping into me. He looked past me and saw them too.

"Do you think they'll recognize you?" He asked.

"With this armour? Almost definitely. Pass me that bag, I'm going to change." I said.

After the rather difficult task of removing my armour, I put on a tunic and boots, keeping my sword at my side but putting everything else into our packs. My armour was heavy, but we made it past the Imperials with little difficulty. One of them looked at my sword funny, but let us proceed.

I quietly sighed in relief as we carried on, passing several buildings, mostly farmhouses, until we heard the suspect sounds of roars and weapons. I paused, before drawing my sword. I crested the hill between me and the sounds, Haming struggling to keep up, before seeing a sight that astounded me.

Some enormous pale humanoid with a club was doing battle with several regular warriors, one of whom was firing on it with a bow as the others danced away from the giants blows, before striking back. I shook off my astonishment and bellowed a battle cry, charging the beast with sword drawn.

It noticed me and swung its club, which I dodged, before slashing at its wrist, drawing black blood. It roared in pain and anger, kicking at me. I rolled away from the blow, before the bowman… woman, actually, fired again, piercing its back, causing it to turn.

'Here's my chance.' I thought, rushing the giant. I slashed my straight sword across the vital and exposed tendons on the back of its ankle, causing it to plummet to the ground, nearly crushing me. As it fell backwards, I thrust my sword upwards in both hands, impaling it on my weapon. My muscles strained and my back roared in protest as I pushed up, throwing the beast to one side, dead.

I fell on one knee, gasping from the exertion the battle had put on me, before falling on my back. I lay there for a minute, before a hand suddenly filled my vision, and I heard a gruff voice say "Here, get up."

I grabbed the hand and it pulled me to my feet. I found myself face to face with one of the warriors, who was wearing finely crafted steel armour, with a greatsword on his back.

"Th-Thanks." I gasped.

"Don't mention it. That was a pretty brave move, charging a giant with only a sword like that. And don't even get me started on that finishing move. That was impressive, to say the least."

"That was pure adrenalin." I answered, catching my breath.

"Still, that was incredible. I don't know if you're interested, but I'd recommend joining up with us, the Companions."

"The who?"

"Oh, sorry. You aren't from Skyrim, are you?"

"No, I'm from Astora."

"Where?"

"Never mind. About these Companions…"

"We're an ancient order of warriors and mercenaries, descended from the original 250 companions of Ysgramor."

"Oh. So you're mercenaries?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Yeah, you did. I may just consider joining. What's your name, by the way?"

"Farkas. What's yours, friend?"

"Markus."

"Anyways, I need to head back to Jorvaskr, (I may have misspelled that) Our mead hall and headquarters. Go there if you're interested in joining."

"Thanks."

And with that, he ran off to catch up with his companions, no pun intended. I watched them go before Haming finally caught up.

"So… what now?" He asked me.

"I think we may have just found ourselves an opportunity." I answered, before continuing to walk towards the front gates of Whiterun.

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Upon reaching the main gate, we were stopped by a man wearing a similar Cuirass to the Stormcloaks, but this one in brown and white, and a helmet that looked like a rounded bucket with eyeholes cut into it. Judging from the shield with a horse head insignia and a sword sheathed by his side, I took him to be a guard.

"Halt! Cities closed with dragons about. Official business only." He said, hand outstretched.

"I was sent by Riverwood. They are defenseless. I must speak to the Jarl." I replied.

"Oh, sorry. You can't be too careful these days." The guard said, opening the gate.

We stepped into Whiterun, the first sound we heard being the clanging of steel on stee. Immediately I looked to my right to see a blacksmith, hand going to my sword, before dropping again.

"You're jittery, aren't you?" Haming asked, as we walked along a road to the town square.

"Just a bit. 'You can't be too careful these days'" I replied, imitating the guards rough voice. Haming laughed, and we carried on, before looking at what I presumed to be a tavern of some sort.

I reached for the door latch and entered, Haming just behind. I heard laughter, music and chatter, and presumed we had arrived during the taverns busiest time, lunch. I walked up to the bar and spoke to the barmaid.

"Hello there. How can I help you?" She asked.

"I'm looking for a good meal." I replied.

"Then you've come to the right place. What'll it be?"

"I'll take some bread and meat, beef, preferably."

"Something for your son as well, I take it?" She asked, looking at Haming.

"Oh no, I'm not his son. He's adopted me, and taken me on as an apprentice." Haming answered for me.

"Oh, is that right. You'll have meat and bread too?"

"Yes please, miss."

The barmaid looked at me.

"He's got good manners." She said.

"I've been trying to teach him in the ways of the knight." I replied.

"Well, I can think of worse ways to raise a child." She said, before leaving to get our meals.

She returned shortly after, and Haming and I enjoyed our lunch, the succulent beef matching the dry, airy bread. I had some mead, while Haming drank water. We left shortly after, headed for the palace at the top of the city. We stopped along the way so I could put on my armour.

Upon entering, I was greeted by a guard, who gestured for me to carry on, once I had repeated what I had said to the guard at the front. As I continued past a large pair of tables covered in plates and silverware, I was stopped by an elven woman in leather armour, brandishing a sword.

"Halt! What business have you with the Jarl?" She asked.

"I come from Riverwood. They are defenseless, and there is a dragon in the mountains." I replied, watching the sword carefully. I really didn't feel

"Oh, I see. Come along then, I'm sure the Jarl would wish to meet you personally."

I followed her to a raised platform, upon which sat a throne, upon which sat who I assumed was the Jarl. To be honest, he was rather… underwhelming. He was shorter than me and rather thin, almost gangly. Then I saw his eyes. They were filled with a mixture of cleverness and devotion, the eyes of a leader.

"So, you were sent by Riverwood. You certainly don't look like a millworker or a hunter, so what are you?" He asked, examining me.

"I am Sir Markus of Astora, and this is Haming, my page." I replied, bowing slightly. Haming followed my example.

"So you're a knight? I've never heard of Astora, but a knight could be of use to me." He said, before turning to the elf. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood immediately. And you, come with me. My court wizard Farengar has been working on a special project lately, and he could use some assistance."

"Lead on, sir." I said.

He lead me to a room off to the left of the main hall, where I saw a man in robes looking at a map. Farengar, as he was apparently named, looked something like Big Hat Logan, but slightly older. He had a short beard and looked about fifty, or somewhere around there.

"Farengar, this is Markus, a knight of Astora. I thought he could help you with your project. Go ahead, tell him all the details." The Jarl addressed the wizard.

Farengar looked at me with suspicion, sizing me up. His eyes lingered on my sword especially, and my armour.

"So, the Jarl thinks you could be of use to me, eh? Well, I do happen to need someone to fetch something for me. Of course, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not be there." He said.

"Consider it yours. Where's the ruin?" I answered.

"Just east of Riverwood. Perhaps one of the locals will be able to guide you there."

I nodded in thanks and Farengar returned to his map, as I left.

"I told you we would be going to a tomb." Haming said, grinning.

"And you were right. Haming, if this ruin is anything like Ralof told us, I might leave you in Riverwood. This will be dangerous, and I refuse to take you to your death, just because we need money." I said, looking at Haming seriously.

"Come on, I've already proven I can hold my own in a fight, let me come too!"

"You have until we get to Riverwood to convince me."

Of course, fate, being the bitch that she is, decided Haming deserved a chance to come to the ruin. On the way back to Riverwood, we were ambushed by several bandits.

"This is the part where you bleed to death!" One of them yelled as we locked blades, his axe and my sword meeting in a hail of sparks.

"You truly are a FOOL!" I yelled, slamming my shield into his gut before letting loose a wicked backhand cut, cutting his throat in a hail of blood.

Another bandit with a bow went down, Haming stabbing into his groin before cutting his throat, wielding his iron sword with gusto. I had trained him well. The last bandit looked at us before throwing his mace to the ground and running, not even daring to look back.

"Bandits. Typical. They yell how they're going to kill you and steal all your money, but once they're by themselves… they're gone." I said, spitting on one of the corpses.

"So, can I come with you to the tomb?!" Haming asked excitedly.

"Fine, you can come." I sighed, rolling my eyes dramatically.

"Thanks! You're not going to regret this!" He said, practically bouncing up and down.

Upon reentering Riverwood, we found several guards patrolling the town. I decided to pay a visit to the general store, opening the door only to hear the last lines of what sounded like a heated discussion.

"No! No treasure hunting, no adventures, no heroics!" The man behind the counter yelled.

"Well how are we going to get it back!" Retorted a woman standing in front of him.

The man noticed me.

"Ah, a customer! I assure you, despite you may have overheard, the Riverwood General Goods store is still open for business!" He said.

"Good. I need torches, food and some healing potions." I said.

"Right to business, eh? I like that. Well, let's see here…"

To his credit, the man worked quickly and I was out in naught but a few minutes. The woman he had been arguing with, who turned out to be his sister, Camilla, led Haming and I to the path up the mountain to the tomb, known by the locals as Bleak Falls Barrow.

The journey was mostly uneventful, save for a few wolves and a small trio of bandits. Haming and I made short work of them, and continued up the mountain to the Barrow itself.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" I said, staring at the enormous arches looming over the main entrance.

Haming could only nod in agreement. Then an arrow struck me in the shoulder.

"GAH!" I roared, as the iron tip of the arrow pierced my relatively thin right shoulder armour and bit into my flesh. I reached up and tore the arrow out, drawing out a small trickle of blood, but nothing more.

Haming and I found ourselves fending off two bandits, one armed with an axe and the other with a warhammer. The one with the warhammer thought the reach given by his weapons length would let him take me out easily, but I proved him wrong quite quickly by severing the hammerhead from the handle.

Left with little more than a stick, he was almost defenseless, my blade splitting his stomach open and spilling his guts onto the ground. I kicked at the man attacking Haming, allowing him to stab the man in the chest. The archer loosed another arrow, and to my dismay, it hit Haming right in the chest.

Time itself seemed to slow down as he looked down at the arrow embedded in his chest, before he fell to the ground, blade falling from his fingers as I roared in anger, throwing my sword through the air, sending it whirling into the archers skull. I had no time to be impressed with myself, however, as I ran to Haming, as he whimpered on the ground.

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BWAH-BWAH-BWAAAAAAHHH CLIFFHANGER