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 his descendants.

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, a Harbinger 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 members hired against one another. And 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 and 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, respected throughout 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 had taken me and my father to come here by ox-wagon. Saying farewell to my mother hadn't been easy, but it was one. Erik had only been envious, as I told him I was leaving. But taking farewell of my father had been the hardest, perhaps because he was the one who had dropped me of outside the city walls.

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, as my brother had been before me.

As I entered the mead hall, that was Jorrvask, I was faced with a long hearth fire, glowing red with coal. A long table was placed around the hearth fire, 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 was a set of wooden stairs leading down to a basement. And to the far left, there was a door leading to another room, which I couldn't tell what contained.

Opposite the room across the hearth fire 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 with the ceiling.

The floor around the hearth fire was made of cobblestone, but there were also wooden floors on 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.

As soon as I had entered, a fistfight had broken out in the room. 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, a bit in shock.

The other Companions had quickly gathered around the fight, but no one seemed to interfere as 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.

I didn't know how to react so I just stood there and stared in confusion. That's when one of the Companions, who wasn't cheering or betting, spotted me.

For a moment he stood by, eyeing me up with his arms crossed. He had a strict, stern, and almost angry face with sharply 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 products 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. The feeling of nervosity only increased as he came closer. I noted is left eye was white, blinded from an injury as a pale scar ran over it.

"Haven't seen your face before. State your business."

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.

His 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... Lucky for you, I'm not the one who makes that decision…" He almost looked angry as he signaled toward the stairs with a strict gesture. "Talk to Kodlak. Who knows, maybe he's in a generous mood."

"I'm looking for… Kodlak?" I asked an old lady as I came down into the cellar. She was brushing the stone floor, decorated with red carpets with golden patterns.

She gave me a curious look before she with a smile pointed her hand down the hallway. "His room's at the end of the hallway, child. The door is open, so you just walk right in."

I gave her a quick courtesy nod before I walked off.

The basement seemed to serve as a living quarter. 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 placed against them. Serving as a makeshift storage area.

There was an open door on one side, leading into 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 could be seen, these ones closed. 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. The room 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 at me. Like the man before they both eyed me up.

"A stranger comes to our hall." The old man said, keeping me in eye contact.

I guessed he had to be Kodlak as he looked to be in his fifties. He 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. He must be strong, 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 rose from his chair and circled me, eyeing me up and down.

I don't know why, but I held out my arms from my sides and nervously turned my head after him as he circled me. I felt ridiculous. This had been a bad idea.

He stopped in front of me and leaned forward as he took a deep look into my eyes. His eyes were sharp, focused, and the wrinkles around them showed clearly as he looked at me. I got the uncomfortable feeling he was staring straight into my soul. And suddenly I found I had forgotten to breathe as he ¨hummed¨ and turned back to sit down in his chair.

"Hm… Yes,… perhaps,… a certain strength of spirit." He said as he started stroking his beard again.

The other man turned his head toward Kodlak and gave him a confused look.

When I had entered the room I had thought him to be older. But now that I stood so close to them, he didn't look much older than me. Clear silver-blue eyes. Black hair, that he wore over his ears, reaching down to the back of his neck. And a strong jaw. The characteristics of his face were... well... I admitted to myself that he didn't look that bad.

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting him?" He asked, making a disapproving face.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas," Kodlak answered, returning his look. "And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Apologies..." Vilkas said, straightening his back. "But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider." Vilkas gestured toward me as he looked at Kodlak.

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their hearts." The way he spoke sounded as if he was trying to convince Vilkas, but I got the feeling he was telling.

"And their arm…" Vilkas said in a low voice as he turned his head towards me and again eyed me up with a look of disapproval. The way e looked at me felt insulting. As if he thought himself my better even though we looked the same age.

"Of course," Kodlak said, turning his attention bac to me. "How are you in battle, boy?"

I had never been in a battled. And the only training I had ever gotten was from my father, which hadn't been too often. I got the feeling Kodlak would see straight through a lie. He seemed the sort. So I decided to tell the truth.

"I have much to learn."

"That's the spirit!" Kodlak said in a loud voice and clapped his hands once. "Vilkas, take him out to the yard and see what he can do," Kodlak said as he gave Vilkas a playful push on his shoulder, with his fist over the table.

"Aye…" Vilkas sighted as he reluctantly rose from his chair.