CHAPTER XXI
Just under seven hours had passed since the three fugitives, Valerie, Tam and Magoza, had left the hall of the Vigilant's of Stendarr. Now, they found themselves quickly approaching the small snow-covered coastal city of Dawnstar. A very much welcomed sight for the three weary travellers.
They headed right down a street, which lay on higher ground, overlooking the rest of the city and the bay. The three quickened their paces when they saw what appeared to be an inn. Standing outside, looking up at the sign that squeaked as it rocked in the wind, they saw the establishment was called the Windpeak Inn. They all moved forward, Valerie in the lead, and pushed the door open.
Inside, a raised and most welcoming fire pit loomed large in the centre of the main room. The noise from the merry patrons brought a smile to their faces as they sat down. Valerie and Magoza perched themselves on a two-person bench at a table, while Tam sat at one table over, their backs facing the blazing hot fire.
"Well," Valerie began resting her arms onto the thick pine table. "We've returned to civilization." She smiled, looking around the sparsely populated streets. "So to speak," she added.
Tam looked around. "Seems like a nice place. Apart from all the snow that is."
"If you don't like the snow, then you'll love Winterhold," Valerie added.
Tam sighed. "By that, you mean it's cold."
Valerie chuckled. "Probably the coldest place in Skyrim."
Magoza mused at how the two were getting along now, or at least appeared to be getting along. There were still moments of tension between the them, but overall they seemed to be at peace with one another.
"I think I should go get some supplies," Valerie told them finally as she stood up. "We need them, and if either of you try, they might hike up the price because you're not Nords."
"Probably," Tam agreed.
Magoza reached into her satchel and took out a coin purse. "Here, you'll need this."
Valerie took it before heading out into the cold, snowy street. She headed down the shallow hill, deeper into the city. After looking around, searching for a general store of some kind, she approached one of the city guards. The man wore armour that was almost identical to the guards in Whiterun, except the colours which were a sandy yellow in her home city, were grey here, and on the shield was the city logo which was a four point star, not unlike the pupils of Magoza's green Orcish eyes.
"Excuse me?" she asked him.
The guard looked over at her. "What is it?"
"I'm looking for the general store?"
"We don't have one really, we're a mining community, and we get most of our trade from merchants that come through. We're rich on ores and that's our strength."
"You don't have a general store, how do you buy food and things?"
"I just told you, through merchants, we get our food through fishing and hunting. We got a big boat that gets all the fish you can eat, but it's not in dock right now."
"But what if the weather is bad, and the merchants can't get here, or the ship can't get out?"
The guard folded his arms, which looked awkward considering he had his shield in his hand. "The same thing that would happen if we had a general store and the merchants couldn't get through, or the ship couldn't get out. Sure a general store can salt their fish so it lasts, but too much salt is bad for you. Makes your blood run high, and that's no good for anyone." The guard unfolded his arms. "In any case we have safeguards in place in case that happens. We have preserved foodstuffs stored away that can be used in the case of an extended storm."
"Well I'm looking to buy some supplies. Know of where I can get some?"
"Try the apothecary, she has been known to sell potion ingredients that can also be used as foodstuffs, also if you need weapons, try the smith. Oh and when the ship gets back in, head to the docks. They might sell some fish to an outsider. If you're heading off for any length of time, then you can preserve it with some salt you can get at the apothecary."
"Will do, and thank you."
"You're welcome." He turned and left.
Valerie scratched her head. "No store," she repeated. She guessed that they didn't get many visitors through here, so they didn't really need one. What would miners need with trinkets after all.
The Nord made her way to the apothecary first and purchased some salt pile, a silverside perch which was a small fish, some wheat and even managed to get a hold of a large satchel to store it all in. She then headed back to the inn where she headed straight to the innkeeper. She gathered some more foodstuffs, such as venison that could be salted using the salt pile she had. Happy with the amount of food supplies, she returned to the tables where her comrades were sat.
"No general store," she told them. "Pretty much everyone who doesn't own a store, or is in the Jarl's direct employ, is either a fisherman, or works the mines." Valerie looked over and realized that Tam wasn't even there. "Where's the elf?" she asked.
"Gone to the blacksmith to get a weapon," Magoza replied. "And her name's Tam," she added.
"Of course," Valerie said acknowledging the correction. "Well, when Tam gets back we should try to rent rooms, and get some rest ready for an early start tomorrow."
"That's a good idea," Magoza agreed.
"And if I remember correctly, there's an inn roughly half way there. think it's the Nightingale, or something like that."
"Will we be stopping there?"
"Yes," Valerie confirmed. "Most likely."
Soon after, Tam returned with a new steel warhammer, and they purchased beds for the night, even though it was still the afternoon, in the case that they couldn't later.
Tomorrow they would be heading off towards Winterhold, and if today was any indication, then it would be cold and miserable.
The hours it took to travel to Whiterun were like torture for Rontag. Seeing the beautiful city in all its glory in the late afternoon sun didn't help either.
As they pulled up towards the stables, Doran pointed out someone who was crouched down on the road, rubbing his hands along what appeared to be scorch marks from a fire. As they got closer, it was revealed to them that the man wasn't a man at all, but an elf, a High-Elf to be specific.
Rontag jumped from the wagon before it had stopped, and strode over to him. His arms were pumping and his anger was rising almost to a bursting point. He wanted answers, and this elf would give them to him. He would beat them out if he had to. No one was going to stand between him and his wife, not when he had been so close to reuniting with her.
He reached down and grabbed the elf by the scuff of the neck, pulling him roughly to his feet.
"What are you doing!?" the elf demanded.
"Are you Thalmor!?" Rontag spat.
"No!" the elf said, both in shock and anger at the sudden unprovoked attack. "I'm ex-Legion if you must know."
Rontag let him go, but he still wanted answers. "What are you doing here!?"
The elf looked down at the dirt. "I'm looking for my daughter, I believe these marks were caused by her."
Rontag remembered back to what the courier had said back in Helgen. "I heard that the Thalmor were looking for a High-Elf here, and that she escaped. Is that who you're looking for?"
"No," the elf said. "She is not the one I'm looking for."
"But you said you were looking for your daughter?"
"Yes I did."
Rontag no longer wished to speak to the cryptic elf, so he moved past him towards the city gates, making sure he bumped him hard with his shoulder. "I don't have time for games," Rontag uttered. "I'm going to talk to to the Jarl, I need to know where they are headed, my wife is involved."
Doran, Kalon and Jalia caught up with the angry Nord, as he made his way towards the city gate.
"You can do that?" Doran asked him. "Just go talk to the Jarl I mean."
"I don't care if I can or can't," Rontag said angrily. "He knows what goes on in this City, or at least he is supposed to. He should know something about where my wife has gone!"
"I also need to know where they are headed," the elf said after them as he followed. "Do you mind if I join you?"
Rontag stopped and turned to him. "Yes I do mind."
Doran placed his hand on Rontag's shoulder as he caught up. "Come on, Rontag, he's looking for his daughter."
Rontag paused for a few moments. He understood how it felt to be separated from a loved one. That was why he was here after all. "Fine," he accepted. "Just don't get in my way."
Rontag, followed by the others, rushed to Valerie's father's house first. When he saw the old place, it was almost just as he remembered it. He walked to the front door, only to find it was already open. Inside, it quickly became apparent that the building was empty. She was truly gone.
Desperately hoping that she had left a note of some kind telling him where she had fled too, he began tearing out drawers, wrecking furniture and rummaging through every box or container he could find. In the end, he found nothing, except the small bed in the tiny guest room had been slept in.
Rontag stormed back out of the house, followed closely behind by Doran, Kalon, Jalia and the elf.
They headed deeper into the city, up the hill towards the palace that lay at the very top. Once inside, they were met by some guards.
"Hey, what do you lot want!?" the guard on the left asked harshly.
Rontag glared at them. "I am looking for my wife, Valerie."
"Iron-Axe?" the guard asked.
"Yes," Rontag confirmed. "I need to speak with Balgruuf the Great."
"Balgruuf the Greater is Jarl now," the guard corrected. "'And the Jarl's not happy about any of it. Thalmor in the city, who'd of thought."
"I need to see him!"
"Fine, follow me."
They followed the guard up the stairs, then to the right of two long dining tables that lay either side of a large fire pit. At the end of the room, the Jarl sat proud beneath the old skull of a long dead creature, proclaimed to have one belonged to a dragon.
He looked over at them, looking fancy clothes and gold, ruby circlet. "What is this?" he asked in annoyance.
The guard looked across at Rontag. "This is the Iron-Axe woman's husband."
"Ahhh," Balgruuf said, his mood easing, but only slightly. "So you didn't die in the war after all. I must say that you've returned at a bad time friend."
"What has happened?"
"Thalmor came into my city unannounced!" The Jarl snapped, his accent becoming heavier. "They were looking for someone. I don't know who, except that it was an elf. Your wife got involved and they tried to arrest her. But some Orc girl who had been staying with her wasn't having any of it, and two of the Thalmor guards were killed. I didn't know until after the fact. I sometimes wonder what the point of guards are, if they can't do something as simple as reporting these things before they spiral out of control!"
The High-Elf they had found outside the city stepped forward. He bowed his head to the Jarl before he addressed him. "What of the Orc girl?" he asked.
The Jarl looked to him. "Who are you?"
"I am Meratur, Magoza's father," the High Elf said revealing his name.
"Father of an Orc?" the Jarl asked sceptically. "No matter. Some other murderous Orc is looking for her."
"Burag," Meratur said simply. "We used to be great friends when we were both in the Legion. But over the years he has grown distant and distrustful. He is looking for Magoza, and he will surely kill her, and anyone that happens to be with her when he catches up to them."
Rontag glared at the elf angrily. "Then we must find them before he does!" he turned to the Jarl. "Do you know where they were headed?"
The Jarl shook his head. "No, but Danica at the temple of Kynareth may know. But be careful, she lost her father to that crazed Burag."
Rontag knew that if left to him, he would question the priestess rather harshly. He was too emotional right now, too riled up and couldn't be trusted to do it. Not without causing her more grief than she was already enduring. With no other options, he turned to his friend.
"I am not in the right mind to speak with her. Will you do it for me?". Rontag asked Doran.
Doran accepted the responsibility. "I will see to it." He turned and left quickly.
Meratur stepped up to Rontag. "When you head off, I must ask that I join you."
Rontag glared at him, but agreed. "fine, you can come too."
Jalia, who had been stood quietly with Kalon several paces behind them stepped forwards. "Can I come too?"
Kalon grabbed her by the arm. "Let's just get a cart to Solitude. We don't need to go gallivanting about, chasing after phantoms and crazy people."
Jalia snatched her shoulder away. "Some bard you are, turning your nose up at adventure. Think of the songs you can write. The bards that history remembers are the ones that have tales to tell, the ones that adventured and saw the world, the ones that made sonnets based on them. Not the ones that learned the same dull songs as everyone else."
"Being remembered is overrated, now let's go!"
Jalia shook her head. "I want to help them, besides I want adventure, not to be holed up in some city."
Kalon threw his hands up into the air in defeat. "You'll be the death of me woman!" he cried.
Doran stepped into the Temple of Kynareth. The sun was already setting and he could feel the fatigue of long days events as they began to catch up with him.
He walked over to the robed woman, who sat on a bench on the far side of the large room next to the shrine.
"Excuse me?" he asked her.
She looked up at him, her face torn with grief. Her eyes were red and slightly swollen, as if she had been crying for hours.
"Can I have a moment of your time?" Doran asked softly, in an attempt to get a response without being pushy.
"What is it you want?" she asked him, trying to hide her inner torment.
Doran sat next to her. "I'm sorry about your father, but I need to know where Valerie Iron-Axe is headed?"
"Who are you to demand that!?" she sputtered with anger.
"I am a friend of Rontag's," Doran told her, attempting to keep his voice soft and measured. "He has returned to the city, and wants to find her. He asked me to talk to you because his mind is ripe with worry for her."
Danica wiped tears from her swollen eyes. "I trust you are telling the truth."
"The one who has caused you so much pain will do so again, unless we know where he and Valerie are headed."
"Magoza, the Orc," the priestess began, "the one who Valerie took in. She wanted to go to Winterhold. This was before they were forced to flee the city by those barbaric elves. They might still be headed there. That is where I sent the one who murdered my father."
"Thank you," Doran imparted. "Take strength from Kynareth in this time." He stood rose up from where he was sitting.
"No, thank you." she replied wistfully.
As he headed for the door she called after him. "One more thing. The guards say the Orc headed west instead of east. So they still have time."
"Thank you." he repeated.
He left the temple and began to make his way up the long steps back towards Dragonsreach. Stood outside the palace doors were Rontag, the two Redguard lovers and the High-Elf, Meratur.
"Winterhold," Doran told him.
Rontag nodded. "Then that is where we go," he moved passed them, across the wooden bridge that lead over a man-made pond that lay in front of the palace.
Doran quickly rushed in front of his friend to stop him from moving any further.
"What!?" Rontag asked him annoyed.
"We should get rest before we head off," Doran said. "Not to mention the horses do."
"The horses be damned!" Rontag shouted. "A murderer is a threat to my wife, I cannot afford rest, neither can the horses."
"They have a days head start, and according to the guards who saw the killer Orc leave, he went west instead of east, which I take is the long way. He will not catch them for a while. We can rest and take the carriage in the morning. If we hurry, we might get three-quarters of the way there by the evening."
Rontag cracked his knuckles before his posture slumped in acceptance. "If he headed west then yes, we can afford rest before we move on, in fact if everything we heard is true then we need rest before attempting to fight him, if we do find him." He looked around at everybody. "Get the camping gear from the wagon. You can sleep on the bedrolls in my wife's house." He looked at Meratur. "You'll need sleeping gear for the night."
"Understood."
"We head off early and don't stop until we see Valerie, your Burag friend, or till we reach Winterhold."
"I have acquired a map," Meratur responded. "It states there is an inn half way. Perhaps we could make use of that."
Rontag nodded. "If we haven't seen any sign of your friend, then we'll only be stopping for a half hour or so to let the horses rest. But that is all, understood?"
"Definitely," the High-Elf agreed. "I'll get a hold of a bedroll.
Doran stared down at the city. "Look, I need to get back to the stables to properly see to the horses. We dumped a lot on the stable keeper with very little explanation. I should see that everything has been dealt with."
As Doran headed down the steps back down into the city, Rontag turned to sound of one of the large Dragonsreach doors opening. Stood there in the open door was Balgruuf.
"Good luck," the Jarl said. "And Talos be with you." He turned and headed back into the palace, closing the door shut behind him.
A difficult journey lay ahead of them, yet together they would succeed. They had to, or more people would surely die.
Updated 24/03/2014