For the first time, Connie and Steven left the safety of Helgen's walls. The wind met their skin and all but Fenrik, both fuelled by rage and accustomed to the weather, shivered at its touch.
Girder galloped forward at a pace far more speedy than she was accustomed to as Fenrik encouraged her to pick up speed. "Won't be long now," Fenrik yelled over the frigid wind, barely turning his body to face them. "Managed to see where they're camped."
"So where are they?" Connie asked as she fiddled with her sheathed blade. Her breath condensed into clouds as she spoke.
"Between the Guardian Stones and Riverwood. Knew they were close but never thought they'd be right outside." His eyes narrowed in determination. "But they won't be here for long."
"Guardian Stones?" Steven asked.
"Aye. They're three of the thirteen Standing Stones that are around Skyrim. One for every constellation." He sighed. "We'll stop by them on the way. If you're taking on bandits, we'll need all the help we can get."
Fenrik ordered Girder to a halt near some stones. Near them, a long stream of water stretched out, the sound of running water and fish swimming filled their ears. The three disembarked the cart and Fenrik walked them to the stones, which dwarfed them all, standing at least 8 feet tall and all had etchings of people on them. "The three Standing Stones," Fenrik announced grandly. "The Mage, The Thief, and The Warrior."
Steven faced one of them, which displayed a hooded person with a dagger in each hand. "What's this one?"
"The Thief," Fenrik replied. "The legend of this constellation says that people under the sign of the Thief aren't usually thieves, they just take risks more often but still rarely get hurt. But, they'll run out of luck eventually, however, and rarely live as long as those born under other signs."
"Ooh, that sounds right for me." Steven placed his hand on the etching and was almost sure he saw the carving glow beneath the stone.
Connie instantly knew which stone interested her. The stone she faced had the etching of a burly man who held both a long-axe and a shield. "The Warrior?" she assumed.
"Aye lass. People born under the Warrior are supposed to be skilled with all weapons, with the fighting spirit to match."
Connie nodded and brushed the stone with her fingers. Like Stevens, it seemed to shine with a faint glow.
Fenrik smiled with satisfaction. "Let's get going then. But before I forget," he rummaged into his pockets before pulling out two small vials. Both were a deep red bottle, and were corked to prevent the liquid inside spilling out. "Healing potions." He handed a bottle to both Connie and Steven.
Steven uncorked his and gave a sniff. He gagged at the smell; earthy, grass-like, and death in a bottle. "What's in this?" he asked, disgust evident.
Fenrik shrugged. "Probably something common? Maybe Blue Dartwing and Butterfly Wings?"
Steven's eyes widened, his mind filled with images of de-winged butterflies on the ground and dragonflies squirming alongside them, and he thrusted his vial into Connie who explained, "Steven doesn't really do meat. Or anything animal-based in his mouth."
"Huh." Fenrik blinked in confusion, and Connie suddenly wondered if vegetarianism was even a thing in Skyrim. "Apologies lad. Just thought you preferred vegetables from when you ate at the inn. Didn't know you didn't eat animals at all."
Steven waved his hand dismissively. Connie waited until she was sure Steven wasn't going to vomit before she asked Fenrik, "So how do we use these healing potions?"
Fenrik cocked his head in confusion. "You drink it?" his voice was suspicious, as though doubting that anybody needed to question this. "Or you rub it on the wound?"
She laughed, pained and forced. "Of course. Silly me. I knew that." She smiled and hoped that Fenrik believed the obvious lie.
Fenrik examined the two, his eyes flitting between the pair. "Right. Sure." he eventually said, defeated acceptance evident in his voice. "Let's get going. Those bandits aren't going to deal with themselves."
As it turned out, Embershard Mine was only another minute's cart ride from the Guardian Stones. Fenrik turned his head towards a set of stairs that were haphazardly made from wooden slats, almost hidden by the overgrown grass and trees. "They're through there. I'll wait here." He glanced at Connie's blade. "You do whatever it takes to deal with them."
"Got it," Connie agreed, unsheathing her sword.
"Wait," Steven argued. "Does the sword have to be Plan A? Can't we just ask them to stop?"
Fenrik shook his head. "These people rob and kill without a second thought. Nothing in that cave wasn't stolen from somebody whether they were dead or alive. You can't convince them to stop."
"Believe me," Steven said with optimistic confidence. "I have convinced much worse people to stop doing much worse things."
Fenrik gave Connie a look of simultaneous exasperation and incredulity. She shrugged. "I mean, he is actually right."
The older man sighed. "Fine. If you think you can stop them with your words, then feel free to try. But don't be surprised if you end up with an arrow in your back."
The man outside the mine looked almost Gem-like. Blue tinted skin, pointed ears and chin, and red eyes that bore into Steven and Connie. His sword, heavy looking and golden, was held in his outstretched hand and pointed between them. "I suggest ya keep moving children," he warned.
Steven stepped forwards, his hands raised in peace. "Hello bandit. I would like to talk to your leader please."
The bandits eyes narrowed in suspicion, before bouncing between the two as if rapidly studying them both, and settling on acceptance. "Fine by me." He motioned to the mine, at a door embedded in the rocky wall that when opened led to almost darkness, before he entered and the pair followed.
The cave was dimly lit, flaming torches scattered on the wall that almost illuminated the shadowy cave. The bandit yelled through the cave, his voice echoing with ease. "Honrid! Denvid! One of you fools lower the bridge. We have visitors."
Two new bandits appeared, both identical down to their untamed beards and thick steel armor. One held a war axe in his left hand, while the other had an identical axe in his right hand.
"Visitors?" the one with the axe in his left hand asked.
"Who?" the one with the axe in his right hand asked.
"Doesn't matter," Gold-Sword replied gruffly. "Just lower the damn bridge. They want to talk with the boss."
The identical bandits both cocked their heads in confusion. "Talk?"
"To the boss?"
A look of comprehension dawned on their faces. "Got it," Lefty said simply.
"I'll lower the bridge," Righty added.
Lefty gave a smile as Righty walked through a cramped looking corridor, and soon Gold-Sword, Steven, and Connie were walking through to another section of the cave. Ahead of them, a green hulking figure was striking a wall with a pickaxe, the contact sending a loud thud through the cave. Gold-Sword gave a shout, loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic striking. "Take a break from mining."
Pickaxer turned to look at Gold-Sword, but paused when he spotted Steven and Connie. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement and watched as they were led past him.
As they walked, Connie spotted a room behind a closed gate, with tables full of various items. Connie remembered Fenrik's words and wondered how many of those items were from victims.
Connie gave a glance behind her, only to see Righty, Lefty, and Pickaxer all following behind them at a distance.
This was not going to end well.
The final room was far larger than any of the cave's other rooms, with a set of stairs leading to another floor above and below the room's entrance. On the floor above, Steven saw a bandit on a wooden rope bridge who observed them with casual interest, while on the floor below another bandit was casually leaning against a workbench as he read a book with transfixed interest. A waterfall fell from the ceiling above and ran into a puddle of water below.
"Boss!" Gold-Sword's voice echoed through the room, and a man came from a corridor ahead of the stairs leading up. "Ya got visitors!"
The new man was strangely short, almost coming up to Steven's chest, which made the warhammer he held look almost comically bigger by comparison. His eyes raked over Connie and the girl wasn't sure if his gaze lingered on her sword or her body. "What can I help you with?" he asked, an almost mocking politeness in his voice.
Steven stepped forward. "We've heard you've been hurting people and robbing them. We want you to stop please."
The boss bandit looked at him with incredulity before breaking into laughter, soon joined by the other bandits that had followed. "Gods, I haven't heard something that dumb for a while."
Connie's sword unsheathing pulled their attention. "Look we've asked nicely," she stated, her voice low and calm. "You are going to stop. It's up to you how it goes next."
Warhammer smiled, smug and dangerous. "Nice sword lass. I'll enjoy taking it from your corpse. Men, attack!"
Everything slowed to a halt as Steven saw arrows fired towards them. The bandits below and above them had both pulled their bows out and each sent an arrow flying, one to Connie and one to Steven.
His skin now pink and glowing, Steven was barely aware of his own actions, fuelled only by the desire to protect. He dodged the arrow aimed at him from the bandit below simply by stepping out of the way at superspeed, the arrow almost unmoving in the air as he maneuvered around it. He deflected the arrow heading for Connie with a simple shield throw that had the added benefit of striking the archer above, knocking him from the bridge and into the water below.
Spinning around, Steven saw that Lefty and Righty had drawn their axes and were both charging. Advancing at enough speed that it almost felt like he had simply appeared in front of them, he struck, slamming their heads together with enough might to knock them out before he tossed them either side of him, allowing them to crash into the cave walls.
Connie leapt from over the steps, her sword piercing the stomach of the bandit below. The man fell to the floor, blood already pooling around his leather armor as he clutched the wound in defeat. Turning around, Pickaxer and Gold-Sword were already readied for battle.
She sprinted, coming to a stop near them as she entered a battle stance. "Two against one?" she mocked. "You sure you don't want to get more help?"
Pickaxer gave a feral roar as he lunged, his pickaxe swinging wildly. His attacks were fast, far faster than Connie had anticipated, but she was still able to avoid the swings until she found an opening. The green-skinned goliath took a breath as he pulled back for a heavy blow and Connie struck, her sword neatly cutting the pickaxe in two as it neared her before she slammed the hilt of the sword into his skull.
Only Gold-Sword remained against Connie, and their swords met. "Sure you don't want to give up?" Gold-Sword asked, his mouth sneering with a confidence he should not possess.
"Not a chance." Connie pulled back from their sword-locked skirmish and her opponent stumbled forward, just enough for Connie to take advantage. Ducking down, she swung the flat of her sword at his legs, hard enough to send him to the ground. She grabbed his sword and pressed both against his throat. "I recommend you stay down." She glanced up to see Steven still Pink, by Warhammer, who had backed himself into a wall.
"Do not touch Helgen again," Steven said, his voice devoid of all usual emotion, his pink glow illuminating the area. "It is under my protection. If you do anything to hurt it, or any of the people that live there, I promise you won't live long enough to regret it."
Content with himself, and giving a brief look at the bandits that lay in various states of consciousness, Steven turned to leave his skin returning to its normal fleshy color.
And Warhammer took his chance. Steven heard Connie's cry of warning and turned, fast enough to see the warhammer coming for his face but not fast enough to avoid it.
"Ow." The blood ran down his head and onto his clothes. "That almost hurt."
Warhammer's eyes widened in shock. A blow to the head that strong had normally defeated the strongest of his victims, but this one barely reacted. He watched in panic as the young man's head wound seemed to retreat into itself, leaving no trace of ever having been hurt.
Steven summoned his Bubble Gloves. "I just want you to remember. I gave you a chance to do this peacefully." He punched, hard, and the bandit leader was knocked through the air and into the cave wall, where he slid down and did not stir.
"We should take what we can," Connie suggested as he passed her newly acquired sword to Steven who stored it in his Gem. "It's not like any of this actually belongs to them anyway."
Steven paused and considered it before nodding in agreement. The two searched the cave, using Steven' Gem to store all variety of items ranging from gems, coins, and iron ingots, to more dangerous things like the bandit's weapons. Eventually they cleared the area and stood at the locked gate that held a large chest, when Fenrik's voice rang out, full of terror and haste. "Steven! Connie! If you're still in here, come outside! Now!"
A glance at the other was all it took, before they both ran to the entrance.
Fenrik spent a moment looking at the two, as he took in the blood drying on Steven's clothes and the blood dripping from Connie's blade, but he paid neither any heed. "It's Helgen," he warned. "Look!"
And look they did.
Helgen wasn't far from them.
It was close enough to smell the wooden houses burning and taste the smoke in the air.
Close enough to hear the screams of its residents as they died.
Close enough to see the Black Dragon that caused it all.