[A/N: These "pocket adventures" will be a series of random adventures and past happenings of my characters from Dark Brotherhood: Awake. It can/will range in about anything. Which can be serious past events that are important to the character (but not necessarily important to Awake) or I might write silly little adventures that don't really serve a purpose other than something I dreamt up and just had to write down. I will work on these when I have both the free time and will power to do so lol.
Also, if you like visuals, you can check out my Deviantart "The-Gnerdy-Goblin" for character art and just dumps of other extra things about the characters and whatever my hand decides to do.
One last note, there will be mentions of Kor and Aphid's hometowns, which are not real locations within Skyrim. They are as made up as the OCs, as I didn't want them connected to any place in particular and I wanted to take liberty with expanding the world lol.]
Pocket Adventure: Kor meets Aphid /Escape from Grelod (PART ONE)
The rickety carriage thumped its creaky, uneven wheels along the equally uneven patches of cobble that sufficed as a road.
Eight year old Kor sat alone in the passenger bay, coiled up in a corner nearest the front where the driver sat at his duty.
The boy's usually vibrant blond hair was a bit oily and disheveled in its pony tail, his clothes a good bit dinged, and his usually wide open, absorbent and peppy blue eyes were down cast through his bangs.
To say the last few days for him have been bad….was a rather grievous understatement.
In one single night he lost everything.
Everything but the clothes he wore.
All else….
Laid cold within smoldering embers.
The driver of the carriage seemed a friendly enough person, so it comforted the boy in a slight sort of way to sit nearest to him.
Truth be told, Kor didn't really want to see or sit near anybody but his Papa, but his father was gone, and the boy certainly didn't want to sit on the other end of the wagon.
Even where he sat now, he felt almost utterly isolated from any source of a warm body, despite the driver being but just a piece of wood between them.
The driver must have thought the boy had been seeking literal warmth and had earlier offered to Kor a wool throw he kept in his lap.
When Kor declined, the driver didn't seem entirely convinced, thinking the downtrodden lad was just being sullen about it, so the man left it draped over the wood between them in case the chill snipped through the kid's mood.
Kor wasn't cold, though, no. He almost never was, but he never passed on his father's warm arms or bundling deeply into the blanket his Papa would toss on him every morning as the man set about getting ready for the day.
Every time Kor even glanced the cloth draped behind the driver, the memories practically slapped him in the face.
Waking to the sound of his father's bear-like morning stretch and that whip of air that was always followed by the soft thump of the blanket landing upon him.
Kor wanted that blanket. He so very badly wanted that blanket now and it was taking all he had not to toss the kind driver's offer over the side rail and under the raggedy wheels of the wagon.
He knew the driver meant no harm, of course, but Kor was still struggling to process never seeing his father's blanket again….Never seeing his father again.
The bandits burned…..everything.
Their town was ravaged to the ground.
Hardly a handful survived and only Kor managed to do so by the skin of his teeth.
His gentle soul of a father had found the fury of their ancestor and had crushed his way through ribs and skulls to get them out, all while his son clung to his neck.
But when the numbers grew too great in their path….and a blade finally found its path through the father's ribs, nearly finding the son as well, the father tossed the boy as hard and far as his powerful arms would allow.
And it had been with aim as another fleeing townsman intently caught him and ran, not allowing the boy to break free. Not allowing him to get back to his Papa as the deadly crowd circled the man like ravenous wolves.
Kor only wanted to recall that hastened moment just before his father tossed him, when his Papa held their foreheads together for that last time, told his "baby bear, his little cub" how dearly he loved him, and kissed those two little moles on his cheekbone—the remnants of the boy's mother.
But the ferocious beastly death howl of his father's last stand kept roaring above it all.
Kor coiled up a bit more and slumped just a slight into the wool draped near him.
He closed his teary eyes and tried as hard as he could to pretend he sat comfortably curled on his father's lap, wrapped in the safety of his arms as the cricking and swaying of their rocking chair lulled him to sleep.
But the cricking of the wagon wheels practically screeched in his ears with the constant reminder that he was riding further and further away from that comfortable place. From the only home he had ever known. The home he was never going to see again.
"Have you ever been to Riften?" the carriage driver suddenly broke the silence that had been between them.
Kor jolted a little bit, having been slightly startled out of his thoughts.
He looked up at the driver who then looked back at him.
"I'm sorry," he said as if realizing his error, "Had you nodded off? Did I spook you awake, young man? …You go on and rest your head. I'll be quiet as a cloud…Oh, but not like a storm cloud, I mean--"
Kor shook his head.
"I'm awake…," the boy replied and dropped his gaze for a moment before also replying to the man's previous question, "….No. Papa made….a shipment there once, but he wouldn't let me go with him. Made me stay with our neighbor until…he returned home...Is it a bad place?"
An older Kor would have been able to read the answer that flashed across carriage driver's face at that question, but little Kor hadn't quite yet got the grasp on deciphering all these telltale expressions.
The driver quickly blinked the answer off his eyes and replaced it with a softer, sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry about your Papa, young man," he said, avoiding the question and trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, "I bet he was a strong man, wasn't he?"
Kor initially smiled a bit and began to say something, most likely a prideful comment about how big and brawny his Papa was, but his brow quickly furrowed with tears instead, his mind trying to awash with the image of his seemingly indestructibly built father torn through by the blades of those ravenous wolves.
The carriage driver quickly began fumbling in the burlap sack at his side, trying to fast find another path to pull this conversation to. Seems his carriage driving experience help none in steering conversation well.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, pulling a wrapped skewer of a honey nut treat out of the sack and inwardly praying it wasn't a treat the boy and his father fondly shared--he didn't want to keep emotionally draining the poor lad.
He was slightly worried the floodgate was about to burst when Kor simply stared at it, his expression unchanging aside from his air quickening, but then the boy took a steady breath, exhaled, and gently accepted the treat.
"…..Thank you," Kor said quietly, but politely.
He simply held it limp in his hand however and looked ahead with a miles away stare.
The carriage driver wanted to encourage him to eat, but he decided maybe leaving the boy be for the moment would be better.
The driver had four children of his own, but had no idea how to console even one grieving child. His family had been, probably unfairly, lucky in this world. He was used to comforting scraped elbows and hurt feelings, not tragedies--despite how dramatic children can be about the scraped elbows.
"Have you been to Riften?" Kor had suddenly asked that same earlier question of him, giving the driver a slight startle that time.
"Yes, I have….," the man answered after a brief hesitation. He somewhat regretted bringing the city in question up, even though it was their destination, "I've driven there a handful and half of times now, but I have only been beyond the stables, been inside the city, a couple of times…."
He was being honest. He really has only set foot twice inside the gates, but all the rumors he's heard and the little he's seen for himself….He realized he wasn't quite sure what to tell the kid of the place.
And he certainly didn't know a thing about Honorhall, the orphanage.
But the driver did think the city had its bright spots and surely that must be one of them.
"It's a port city," the driver explained, "A big water channel cuts through and the most bustling part of the city sits on an upper deck above this channel—I'm not sure what all lies on the dock level, but I imagine kids probably love running up and down them decks.--Oh hey! You're from what was that lake town, Sognsvann Shore, right? Bet you love to fish, huh?...I bet Riften has good fishin'. A fishery, too, so who knows? Maybe you'll be happily working there when you're a wee bit older."
Kor didn't say anything. He loved fishing, yes, but he also had a feeling that, even if he heard the city was something out of his wildest fantastical imaginings, it wouldn't make him want anything but home. He just wanted to be home with his Papa.
The driver continued on with what he knew of within the city.
"There's a Temple of Mara there, it's a peaceful chapel. I've actually been in it."
"Mara?" Kor repeated, "….My Papa praised Mara a lot."
"Did he?" the driver casually responded, "…Well, perhaps you may seek him in that chapel. Perhaps this….may be a sign he is guiding you to Riften, hm?"
Kor didn't say anything again, but he did look just ever so slightly eased.
"There's a meadery, a famous meadery, there," the driver spoke on, "Black-Briar. Have you had a sip of the stuff? Heard of it?"
"Uh-uh, I don't think so," Kor shook his head no, "We made our own….and had …honey brew?"
"Honningbrew?" the driver corrected and gave a light joke, "Uh oh, you best not mention that stuff once we get to Riften."
He glanced at the boy to see a questioning and slightly worried look on his face.
"I'm kidding, young man," he said, "….Though competitors do give ya quite an ear full about how much better their stuff is, so if you don't want to hear it. Don't mention it, right?"
Kor reflexively nodded and remained quiet for a moment while the driver seemed to be thinking of what he could mention next, but Kor spoke first.
"Honorhall?" he said, asking of the orphanage.
"I don't know much about it," the driver responded, "but I hear it's run by an elderly woman the folks call Grelod the Kind…"
The driver gave a slight pause, having heard a couple rumors outside of Riften about her, but he never had reason to question it when inside Riften before.
He hoped the rumors were just tall tales derived from those parental threats of sending continually misbehaving kids to scary orphanages.
The woman was fit with the title of "the Kind", so those rumors had to be playing off the irony, right?
"You look like a sweet kid," the driver said, "I'm sure with that freckly face and minding your manners, you'll have no trouble winning over that Grelod and finding a…"
He stopped himself from saying "finding a new family" as he instantly realized the sensitivity there.
He may not have experience in such tragedies, but he damn sure knew he wouldn't want to hear something like that, fresh from burying an irreplaceable loved one.
Instead, he quickly changed it to: "Finding a friend."
"But what if I'm the only kid there?" Kor asked.
"It's an unfortunate fortune that you surely won't be," the driver assured.
He looked at the boy with what paternal tenderness he was experienced with and assured him again.
"You won't be alone," he said softly.
That fatherly tone sank into Kor as it seemed to pull every memory, all at once, of his Papa's loving voice.
Even though the driver had intended not to provoke this, Kor buckled in his grief and broke into a sob.
The driver reached over the wood between them and kept his hand on the boy's back as he grieved.
"I'm sorry, young man," he patted and consoled, "I truly am. And I know nothing will make anything feel better right now,… but…would you at least like to sit up here the rest of the way?"
Kor was too wracked with his sobs to answer or even acknowledge an answer with a nod or shake of his head, but when the driver fully reached over and began lifting him up, and the boy didn't resist, the kindly man went ahead and sat him up front next to him anyway.
He kept his arm around the boy and allowed the kid to lean into him to let out his cries, but after couple minutes, when Kor collected himself a bit, the boy scooted away and withdrew himself on the other end of the bench.
The driver didn't take any offense by it. He pieced together that the boy's father must have been an affectionate fellow and the grieving child was struggling right now to accept any gentle arms that weren't his father's.
They sat quietly for a little while as Kor settled down more from his sobs, but the boy did eventually steady and broke the silence again with a muted question.
"Are we almost there?" he asked of the remaining length of travel.
"Not quite," the driver answered, "But we should be there before late afternoon."
The man reached over that bit of wood and into the passenger bay to retrieve the treat that Kor had dropped.
"Here now," the man returned it to the boy, "You go on and eat you something, young man. And rest a bit. I'll let you know when we're close."
Kor accepted the treat again with a light nod and a quiet thank you, but it was a still and silent few minutes before he finally unwrapped it and took a bite.
He fiddled with sliding one of the rolled oat balls up and down the skewer as he slowly and gloomily ate.
The driver just knew the poor kid was thinking about the last treat his father had given him, but Kor was at least holding himself together about it this time—or perhaps he was too tired and drained of his tears to break down again.
The boy picked through most of the treat before seeming to actually pep up a little and asking about the two horses drawing the wagon. What kind they were, their names, how old are they, if they knew how to spit.
He scooted back towards the driver again as they talked, and he even let out a little giggle when the driver told him the horses were notorious gas passers.
Kor even giggled more when one of the horses' guts indeed gave a warning groan and the driver pretended to shield the two of them from an impending waft with that wool cloth.
Seeing Kor's quick flip to liveliness put the driver at ease that the boy will alright with time, and with that adorable freckly face and bunny tooth grin, the kid was certain to win over the heart of that orphanage and soon a family. Right?
The man had a passing thought that, if his humble cottage wasn't already brimming wall to wall with his own gaggle of children, he'd certainly want take this little guy home.
Kor began to talk a little bit about the horses he liked to feed in his hometown and of a shiny coated palomino that "sparkled like a sunny lake" and was a favorite of his father's to rent for travel.
The driver could see the kid's spirit starting to wane again though at the recollection of things gone, so he decided to ease in an interruption with telling the boy of his travels as a carriage driver, and of the unique and colorful people he's met being one.
This seemed to quell the boy's dark clouded mind, as he intently listened to the tales as the carriage rolled on.
Only when they stopped to relieve their bladders, and for the driver to refresh the horses with a snack, did Kor look upon the sun.
Seeing the boy look to him, the driver answered the question before he asked.
"We're close now," he said, "Perhaps an hour."
The man could see Kor wasn't sure how to feel about it. Anxious, obviously, but rattled with just how anxious should he be.
The man stepped near and gently guided the kid back towards the wagon. He lifted him back up onto the driver's bench and handed him the reigns.
"You ever steer a wagon?" he asked and hitched himself back up next to the boy.
Kor shook his head with a bit of renewing despondency, so the driver initiated this new distraction with teaching the boy a bit of the reigns and letting him have a bit of fun with it as they traversed the final bit of road to Riften.
When they rounded the last curve in the path and the city and its gates became visible in the distance, Kor slowed their speed to an almost stop and stared ahead, taking it all in.
It didn't look as dark and foreboding as his imagination tried to convince him in his grief.
In fact, from what he could see, it didn't look all that different than Sognsvann— but he figured it was much bigger beyond the gate of course.
It looked old, but Kor knew old didn't necessarily mean feeble…
The foliage surrounding the area was perpetually autumn, much like Kor's home for most of the year—although Sognsvann Shore did have its harsh winters.
Kor never minded that though. He wondered if it ever snows here.
The boy stared for a moment longer before taking a slightly shaky breath, letting it out, and letting the driver have the reigns.
The two guards who stood at the gate lazily eyed them as they halted at the stables nearby.
The carriage driver waved but they did not wave back.
It didn't particularly rub Kor the wrong way. His home didn't have a gate or guards, but he had seen them on the travels he did accompany his father for.
Guards never seemed openly friendly, but anytime he ever struck up conversation with one of them with a barrage childishly curious questions, they metaphorically let their guard down and entertained him in good sport.
However, when the driver hopped off the seat and turned to the boy with his arms up and ready to help him down, Kor froze a bit.
All the wrongness he had been feeling was once again clutching a weighty, icy hand around his stomach.
The driver patted the boy's knee gently and then reopened his arms once again to help him hop down.
"It's alright," he said assuringly, "...I know it may not feel it, but it will be...Perhaps you may seek him here, right?"
Kor had then remembered the mentioning of Mara's temple here.
The cold grip on his stomach eased a little and he put on a brave face before sliding into the man's arms, who then sat him on the ground and gave a once more assuring pat on the shoulder before walking him to the gate.
One of the guards, a husky voiced Nord woman, finally spoke.
"What business you got in Riften?" she asked, sounding almost bored.
The carriage driver pulled some papers out from his vest pocket and made a motion at Kor.
"…'Fraid I got an unfortunate sort of delivery," he said.
The guard looked down at Kor, staring for just a slight moment before giving what almost sounded like a sarcastic chuckle.
"Unfortunate indeed…," she said.
Kor wasn't sure what to make of that, as neither did the driver. The man decided to just continue what was going to say.
"I was told the most important bulk of the paperwork should have already reached the Jarl," he explained, "and that Honorhall should be well expecting the boy's arrival today."
"Yep, probably so," the guard continued her rather bland replies, "….I'll take him from here."
"I don't mind walking him--" the driver began to say but the guard held up her hand.
"I have to accompany either way," she explained, "so if you're needin' to head out for other business before dark, I suggest doing so before you're stuck at Bee and Barb for a night—which I don't suggest tonight. Dealing with a bit of clean up…"
"Clean up?"
"Have you been here before?"
"Yeah…?"
"Then you know what kind of clean up…."
The driver noticed Kor looked up at him in question, so the man immediately kept himself from making any sort of aghast expression, but he certainly probably looked about as confused as the child. The man had seen some rough and questionable things here before, but nothing of that caliber. Perhaps the guard just meant a rather bloodied nose bar fight….
"Thank you for the ride," the driver suddenly heard the boy speak up to him, "…And the food."
The man knelt down to the boy.
"Would you like me to walk with you?" he asked the kid.
Kor stilled for a second before glancing at the city gate and then the guard.
The kid seemed slightly anxious, but he quickly put his attention back on the driver with a smile.
"I'll be alright," the boy said with a casual shrug.
"Oh brave," the guard woman deadpanned to which the boy and driver slightly glanced but mostly ignored.
"Alright. Alright then," the carriage driver nodded and gave a pat on the boy's arm, "You keep that chin and grin up and mind yourself, young man. Better days will come."
The guard woman gave a quiet sort of chuckle and roll-of-the-eye nod, but at this point, the man believed she was just a brute sort, dismissive of affections, and he decided not to think of it being anything beyond that.
Perhaps for his own comfort, so he could be able to leave a destitute child here….
"Should my reigns find route here again," the man ignored the woman and continued his farewell to the boy, "…I'll come see you, if you like. Hey, unless you're plucked up by some rich snobs, eh? And don't want to see some poor measly driver of a rickety bit of wood on wheels. Hm?"
Kor smiled a bit more.
"I'll hire you personally," he giggled.
The driver chuckled back.
"Thank you, kind sir," he replied and gave the boy once last pat on his arm, "Take care, young man."
Kor nodded and stood back as the man stood up and handed what papers he had over to the guard.
He and the boy then exchanged farewell waves and the driver made off back to his carriage to leave.
Kor looked upon the guard who was nosing through the papers for a moment before looking at him.
Despite what she said next, even little Kor could pick up the cold pity in her tone.
"Come on then," she said motioning him to follow, "...Time to meet the kindest person you'll ever know."