~*Chapter 1*~
Meeko was whining.
Calder curiously looked up from the peat stack and over to his dog. Meeko had a habit of whining like that to announce the appearance of friendly parties. Yet Calder saw no one approaching. Nor should he have. It was nearly nightfall. What fool would risk braving the treacherous expanse of the Drajkmyr marsh in the dead of night? Yet Meeko's attention was fixed on the foreboding sight. His canine senses had perceived someone or something out there.
"What is it boy?" Calder asked his faithful pet.
Meeko continued whining. The dog looked at his Master, then back to the bog, then back to Calder, and then back to the bog. Finally, he made up his mind. Meeko trotted away from the light of the homestead and disappeared into the foggy marsh.
Calder was baffled. He slammed the shovel he was holding into the mulchy ground. What had gotten into the old mutt?
"Meeko!" The Nord called after his wayward friend, "What are you up to?"
There was no response. Calder sighed and grabbed a torch off the porch railing. He chased after the dog calling his out to him. It took all of a couple of minutes before he caught up to his friend. Meeko was roaming through the swampy mud. His nose to the ground sniffing intently.
So he had smelled something, Calder thought to himself.
The hound continued farther and farther in. Always twenty or so feet ahead of his master. Soon Calder could no longer see the lights from his homestead. The sun had set behind the horizon. No moons and no stars shown through the thick fog.
It was never a good idea to be out in the bog at night.
Calder was about to whistle and call off this wild skeever chase when the mutt abruptly stopped. He began to whimper and nuzzle at something. Something at the base of a gnarled tree. Calder's hand rested on the dagger at his belt and he cautiously approached. The flickering torchlight illuminated the figure of a human wrapped in a tattered brown travel cloak. Arms and legs sprawled out across the exposed tree roots. There were fresh bloodstains on the tree.
Calder knelt down and carefully pulled back the fallen figure's hood. The face of a pretty Breton girl greeted him. She looked young, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her rounded soft face was caked with mud and blood. Her bright blue eyes were open, glassy, and unfocused. Her reddish brown hair was filled with briars, vines, mulch and blood. The apprentice robes she wore were shredded to the point that their enchantments had long dissipated. Like her face, the cloth was stained with black blood and mud. She didn't appear to be breathing.
Calder sighed and placed a finger on her frozen neck. Looking for a pulse. To his shock he found one, but it was weak. He felt a metal chain around her neck and followed it to her collar bone. It was made of silver, and supported a small pendant depicting a decorative drinking horn.
She was wearing an Amulet of Stendarr. All at once the pieces began to fit together. She was a Vigilant of Stendarr. A wounded Vigilant of Stendarr. Which could only mean…
A low growl emanated from Meeko. Calder looked up from the girl and to his dog. The hound had lowered his head, spread his legs, and bared his teeth. He had defensively positioned himself in front of Calder and the girl.
Cold terror filled Calder's heart which he masked with a growl of annoyance. He put the torch in his mouth, scooped up the half dead girl, and sprinted back in the direction of his homestead. Calder didn't dare look back. All of his focus was on maintaining his balance in the soft marshy ground. The squelching of mud rang out across the eerily quiet bog. The Nord and his dog made it back to the comforting light of the homestead unmolested. Calder spat out the torch before he got onto the porch.
"Inside boy," Calder commanded and kicked opened the cabin door.
As soon as they entered Calder slammed the front door shut and bolted it. He took only the smallest of nanoseconds to catch his breath. Speed was of the essence now. They…he…needed defenses. Calder rushed the girl over to the kitchen bench that doubled as a spare bed. He gently laid her there and then got to work. He reached up to the rafters and removed as many fresh bundles of garlic he could hold. Hanging them from the door and shuttered windows.
First line of defense.
Next was the salt. Calder returned to his 'kitchen' and rummaged through the cupboard. He removed the metal salt container and began to poor a small layer of salt over the kitchen window sill. He repeated the process on the second window, the front window and then the front door.
Second line of defense.
Calder scampered up the short ladder in the center of the cabin to his second floor bedchambers. He nearly knocked his head against the low triangular ceiling in his hurry. He removed an oiled leather cuirass, grieves, and bracers from his armor chest and threw them down to the first floor. He had heavier, stronger armors but time was of the essence. Light armor was always easier and faster to strap into. Especially by oneself. Calder frantically suited up and grabbed the ebony sword that hung over the mantle of his stone fireplace. He brandished the fire enchanted blade and stood in front of the door.
"Talos guide my blade," He murmured a prayer.
Last line of defense.
Silence fell upon the small cabin. Calder remained still. His body braced for an attack. His every senses sharpened. He was like that for a long time. Long enough that his muscles began to ache. Yet Calder would stand there. Until morning if he had to. The creatures the Vigilants hunted were a patient type. He had to be patient too.
Calder's persistence was rewarded by a sudden change in atmosphere. He felt the hair on his neck stand at attention. He heard Meeko begin to growl. They both felt the presence. The presence of something evil.
Evil and Unnatural.
Calder trained his ears. Below the sounds from the fire, the creaking of the floorboards, and the ambience from the night he heard it. The soft, ever so soft sounds of footfalls. Someone or something was outside and it was slowly circling the cabin. Testing the defenses. Looking for a way in. Calder prayed to the nine that he had been thorough. It had been long far too long since he had fought anything more than a bandit or two.
Then all at once the footfalls stopped. He felt the presence grow fainter and finally leave. Meeko stopped growling and approached Calder. Tail wagging and tongue out. Calder lowered his sword and took a deep breath. Whatever it was had decided they weren't worth the effort. He ran his hand through the fur on his faithful dog's head and sheathed his sword. It would probably still be prudent to keep a lookout during the night. Which meant he would have plenty of time to tend to his half dead visitor.
He glanced over at the pretty Vigilant girl. Just where had she come from?
Calder frowned at his thoughts.
Pretty Vigilant girl?
~*B*~
"They've broken into the sanctum!"
"She'll never make it!"
"They'd never suspect it!"
"Make for Hjaalmarch, stay off the major roads, look for a man named…"
"Run girl! RUN!"
"I love you Emily."
Emily's eyes bolted open.
Her senses returned all at once. Bombarding her rattled brain with information. She wasn't in the marsh. She was in a cabin. She was warm, and under furs. She heard the crackling of a fire not far away. The mouthwatering smell of food pervaded the place. She felt nothing but her undergarments and necklace. She saw her absolutely shredded apprentice robes hanging by the stone fireplace. Her fur bots were there too.
Wait.
Where was her satchel! Her eyes began to frantically scan the cabin. Where was it?! Her satchel! Panic began to set in. Her breathing began to become erratic and rapid. Her vision began to swim. She had to calm down. No. NO NO NO NO WHERE WAS IT!
"Sa…tchel…" Her throat was hoarse and her voice weak. The ceiling above her creaked and a few moments later a large man descended from a wooden ladder. Her cry had also attracted the attention of some kind of dog which jumped onto her bed and whimpered.
"Meeko no, down," The man firmly commanded.
The brown mutt immediately jumped off her but stayed close by. She looked up to the man. He was a Nord. Built like a horse with bulging biceps. He was tall enough that his head brushed up against the ceiling of the cabin's first floor. His sunken dark blue eyes shined against fair skin that was rough and pockmarked. Brown stubble populated his chin, cheeks, sideburns, and upper lip. His light brown hair was cut unusually short, almost like an imperial. He looked to be in his late twenties or early-thirties.
"Sa…chel…ple…" She barely whispered. Almost on the verge of tears.
He held up a reassuring hand and pointed to her left. Emily painfully craned her head. Her satchel was there. Hanging from a hook on the wooden cabin wall that her 'bed' was attached to. Relief flooded her entire being at the site. It hadn't all been for nothing. Praise Stendarr there was still some hope. She turned back around to thank the man but he was no longer there. She scanned around the small cabin before she located him standing in front of the fireplace. He was stirring the contents of a large kettle suspended by a spit. He ladled the watery liquid of the kettle into a wooden bowl and then approached her. Kneeling down near her he scooped up some of the contents in a wooden spoon and held it out to her mouth.
"Eat," He roughly commanded.
Emily reflexively flinched. She must have looked more frightened than she thought because the man's features immediately softened.
"You need to eat," His tone was more gentle but still commanding.
Emily opened her mouth and be began to feed her what tasted like a vegetable soup. The moment the delicious stew touched her tongue the starving Breton was reminded just how long she had gone without food. Within minutes she had swallowed the whole meal down. She felt strength and warmth begin to radiate in her body. Soon she'd have enough energy for a proper healing spell.
"Thank you," She murmured almost overcome by her emotions. The Nord didn't respond, he rose up and walked over to the fireplace.
"What's your name?" He called out. To her delight Emily saw him began to refill the bowl.
"E…Emily," She answered her voice a little stronger though still quiet, "And you?"
The Nord returned with a full bowl and resumed feeding her.
"Calder," He answered, "Pleased to meet you."
Author's Notes: So the journey begins. I want to clarify that Calder's homestead is NOT Highmoon Hall. While it may have similar features it's more of a modest 'peasant's' cabin than the grand hall befitting a thane. I'll try to answer any questions here for those who have them. Fav/follow/subscribe/ring the bell/give me attention