The Companions
Their history went back to the First Era when Ysgramor had come, from Atmora across the sea, with his five hundred Companions to rage war against the Snow Elves. Victorious, Ysgramor formed the first Empire in Skyrim and it's said all Nord kings are descendants of him.
After the war against the Snow Elves, Ysgramor had ordered his Five Hundred Companions to seek forward and explore the lands. With their ships and longboats they explored the coasts, and settled where they saw fit. Some even carried their ships over the lands, in search of a place to call home. One of these men was ¨Jeek the River¨ who, with his twenty-two men, carried his longboat, Jorrvaskr, across Skrim and found the Skyforge in the midst of the tundra plains today known as the fields of Whiterun.
Seeing the Skyforge he decided to make it his home. So together with his men they flipped his longboat and built it into the roof of their mead hall and home, thus founding the city of Whiterun, and he named the mead hall after his ship of Atmoran wood, Jorrvaskr. And from their new home they explored the land further, and fought any remaining snow elves the came upon. And around the Skyforge and their mead hall the city of Whiterun grew as more travelers and traders made it their home. And the ancient Companions of Jorrvaskr came to fight in battles and war for gold, turning them into honor bound mercenaries, often facing fellow Shield-sibling on the battlefield. Mryfwill, an Haringer of old, in his wisdom came to swear an oath that the Companions would no longer take part in contracts of political nature, as to not fight their fellow member hired against each other's. an so started the tradition of Companion neutrality.
Today, the Companions were a warrior clan and a band of mercenaries. They dedicated their lives to training and battle in order to perfect themselves, fighting for the sole reasons of honor and valor to honor their ancestors, the Nords of old. And upon death in battle their souls would go to Sovngarde, the Nord afterlife, where they would make feast and battle, together with all who had and would die honorably in battle, for all of glorious eternity.
Though, due to their political neutrality, their contracts now consisted mostly of removing troublesome bandits, animals, trolls or occasional giant that caused problems in the different holds. And so some considered them to have fallen from their former glory, being nothing more than glorified mercenaries. No matter their opinions the Companions were still honorable strong warriors, who were respected by most of Skyrim. And their songs of valor could be heard in most Taverns and Inns across the land.
And here I was! Climbing the stairs to Jorrvaskr, wearing the old, slightly too big, armor my father had given me as well as his old steel sword, from his time serving in the Imperial Legion. A rucksack on my bag containing only the essentials for the one day trip it took to travel here, by foot, from Rorikstead to Whiterun.
I had never been so excited and nervous at the same time. And considering the big armor, I must have been a ridiculous sight. But I was determined to not let that get in my way. I don't know how their recruitment works, but I hoped the excitement in my eyes was enough. If not, the training with my father would certainly come to use. And I did consider myself quite strong for my age, like my brother had been before me.
As I entered the mead hall, that was Jorrvask, I was faced with a long heartfire, glowing red with coal. A long table was places around the heartfire, except for in the front, and there were chairs for all its members, surrounding the table. The hall was long, and oval shaped by the ceiling that was made from the former longboat. On the far side, to the right, there were a set of wooden stairs leading down to a basement. And to the far left there was a door leading to a room which I couldn't tell what contained.
Opposite the room, in front of me, across the heartfire and table there were two large decorated wooden doors, leading out to the backyard. The walls were decorated with banners, weapons, shields, and light-stands holding lit candles ran along the walls. Large wooden pillars held the ceiling in place and thick wooden beams ran along the ceiling.
The floor was cobblestone, around the heartfire, but there where wooden, floor, platforms, no more than one stair step high, along the surrounding walls, holding small tables, chairs and bookshelves, fenced off from the central stone floored dinner area by the heartfire.
When I had entered a fistfight had broken out to my left. It was a woman and a Dunmer man who went all out at each other. The brutality of their fight was enough to stop me in my tracks, and I just stood watching, as in chock.
Other Companions had gathered around the fight but no one seemed to interfere.
The two fighters were throwing insults and fists at each other, as if they intended to kill one another. Yet the surrounding Companions acted as If it was their daily entertainment, betting gold, cheering, clapping hands and such.
I didn't know how to react so I just stood there, by the entrance, and stared in confusion. That's when one of the Companions, who wasn't cheering or betting, by the fight, spotted me.
For a moment he stood by, the fighters, and eyed me up. Arms crossed. He had a strict, stern and almost angry face with sharp focused eyes. He was balding on the top of his head but otherwise he had short blond hair and a clean-shaven face.
He wore the famed gray Wolf-armor I had seen so many times on my journeys to Whiterun to sell produce and pelts, from the farm, and at his hip was a polished sword.
He made a face, as if disapprove of something, and started walking towards me. As he came closer I noted is left eye was white, blinded from an injury.
"Haven't seen your face before. I'm watching you." He said.
I didn't know what to say or do, so for a second I just stood like a fool, making a nervous face.
"Can I join the Companions?!" I stuttered nervously and exited, as polite I could.
He's eyebrows furrowed down his eyes and he, again, made a disapproving look as he, again, eyed me up.
"So you think you have what it takes? Huh." He said.
"Lucky for you, I'm not the one who makes that decision… Talk to Kodlak. Who knows, maybe he's in a generous mood." He finished, as he signaled towards the stairs and turned back to the fight.
"I'm looking for,… Kodlak?" I asked the ¨cleaning lady¨ who was brushing the stone floor, decorated with red carpets with golden patterns.
She gave me a curious look and pointed her hand towards the end of the hallway, with a smile.
The basement served as a living quarter. Upon entering there was a long hallway with stone-arcs over it as a ceiling. Shields decorated the rounded walls and the side of the hallway had tables, boxes and barrels against them. Serving as a makeshift ¨stockpile¨ area.
There was an open door on one side, leading in to what I saw was a shared bedroom. And as I walked further down the hallway it split to the left and right. Where more doors, these ones closed, could be seen. In the middle of the split there was a large open double door, facing the length of the hallway, and I could hear a conversation taking place inside.
I didn't want to eavesdrop, so I leaned in and knocked on the open door.
Two men sat at a corner table in the room, that was filled with bookshelves, decorative weapons, a work desk and a table with chairs. A chandelier with lit candles hung from the ceiling and the floor was covered in the same golden patterned red carpets as the hallway.
They both turned their heads, as I had knocked, and looked me in the eyes, before eyeing me up.
"A stranger comes to our hall." The older man said, keeping me in eye contact, who I figured must be Kodlak.
He looked to be in his fifties and had long thick white hair, in a braid, running down the back of his head, and a thick white beard that reached down to his chest. He wore the same Wolf-armor as the man I had met earlier and seemed surprisingly fit for a man his age, broad shoulders and thick arms. I figured he must be quite strong and skilled in battle, to live to his age in this profession.
I nervously walked into the middle of the room and faced the old warrior, straightening my back.
"I would like to join the Companions." I said nervously, again as polite as I could.
"Would you now?" He answered, as he started to stroke his beard with his left hand.
"Here, let me have a look at you." He continued, as he rose from his chair and circled me, eyeing me up and down.
I held out my arms from my sides and nervously turned my head after him as he circled me. Then he stopped in front of me and looked deep into my eyes. I got a feeling he was staring straight into my soul, and found I had forgotten to breath as he ¨hummed¨ and turned back to sit down in his chair.
"Hm… Yes,… perhaps,… a certain strength of spirit." He said, again stroking his beard.
The other man twitched his shoulders in confusion, making a face, and gave Kodlak a surprised look.
"Master, you're not truly considering accepting him?" He asked, making a disapproving face.
"I am nobody's master, Vilkas." Kodlak started, turning his gaze to the man.
"And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts." Kodlak finished, giving Vilkas a look.
"Apologies,…" Vilkas said, straightening his back.
"But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider." Vilkas stated, making a gesture towards me as he looked at Kodlak.
"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and woman come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their hearts." Kodlak said, turning his look at me.
"And their arm…" Vilkas said in a low voice as he turned his head and eyeing me up with a look of disapproval.
"Of course." Kodlak said, noting Vilkas' comment.
"How are you in battle, boy?" Kolak asked, making eye contact with me.
I had never been in a battled, and the only training I had ever gotten was from my father. I got a feeling Kodlak would see straight through a lie, so I decided to tell the truth.
"I have much to learn." I answered, with a slight look of shame.
"That's the spirit!" Kodlak said, in a loud voice, as he clapped his hands once.
"Vilkas, take him out to the yard and see what he can do." Kodlak said, giving Vilkas a slight push on his shoulder with his fist, over the table.
"Aye…" Vilkas sighted as he rose from his chair.