Marie stared upwards at the roof of her small, makeshift tent. Already, the exact contents of whatever dream she'd had were slipping through the cracks, but she couldn't help but dwell on what a strange emotion it left within her chest.
To her right, just beyond the mouth of the small lean-to, was the smoldering remains of a campfire coated in a fresh layer of dew. The morning brought with it a cool breeze, rays of sunshine beaming through the evergreen tree coverage against a backdrop of thick mist. The Breton woman pulled at her tough brown robe, travel garment having become situated strangely after a night of sleeping in it, and forced herself to sit up properly and enjoy the peace. One finger scratched at the sleep clustering against the pore of her eye.
Surrounding her on all sides were thick pine trees, the likes of which concealed a small spring she had set up camp beside. She stung her shelter between a close pair, affixing a rope around the trunks and using a pair of stakes to nail down a thick rectangle of stitched hides down one side. Beneath her was a cheap bedroll, filled with so many rocks and holes that it was hardly better than sleeping on the soil. One day, she would have the coin to replace it, but today was not that day.
Behind Marie, taking up almost as much of the scant shelter as she did, was a large backpack. Clinging to the bag were all manner of jars, satchels, and the odd tool, stitching seeming as though it would burst at any minute. The Breton absently dug through one of the outer pockets, taking advantage of the twist of her torso to stretch some of the soreness away. Her prize was a half-loaf of bread, packed away some days before as provision for her journey to Lake Ilinalta. The audible crunch as she bit into it was signal that she had to be close; the body was allegedly only three day's walk, and the loaf sounded as though it was going on four.
After her meager breakfast, Marie stood herself up to finally start the day. She knelt at the edge of the small spring before her and splashed her face, using her reflection to guide in rubbing away any mud that joined her cheeks while she slept. The young woman couldn't help but frown every time she made eye contact with herself, although she'd long since given up seeking a magical or medical cure for her one milky eye. It gave off a certain fearsome appearance unbefitting someone as meek as she, an injury earned from an infection when she was a baby rather than any grand battle or harrowing sacrifice. It wasn't the most ideal feature, but her long dirt-brown hair and thick hood tended to hide the item quite well. Still, even if it had long since become a fact she made peace living with, there was the small hope that she would stumble across some cure someday. It may be a small, vain, barely-considered hope, but hope in any form is in such scarce supply that she chooses to maintain it.
Packing away her camping supplies and affixing them to her travel pack only took half an hour or so, but before she could leave, the Breton returned to the water's edge and produced a knife. Several blueish nirnroot sprouts had taken growth in the secluded grove, and she had resolved not to cut them until she was prepared to leave, lest the plants spoil in her backpack. She had gathered very little alchemical advice before leaving High Rock, but one of the scant tips she still remembered from the town apothecary was the importance of fresh ingredients. The forests and hills of Skyrim were an overflowing bounty of mushrooms, berries, and flowers that Marie happily grazed from as she walked. Novice alchemist as she was, every new ingredient she collected was an exciting chance to experiment, and the pouch in her pack overflowing with leaves and berries was evidence enough that she was not shy to try new things.
With her belongings gathered and packed away, the young adventurer produced a small flask strapped to the side of her travel bag. She popped the top and took a small sip, taking mind to ration the liquid should she end up stranded without it. Her overloaded backpack was much too heavy to carry, but shortly after the bitter lukewarm potion slid down her throat, her bag's massive heft magically seemed to drain away until it was just about manageable. The jars and tools hanging from every strap jangled whilst Marie spun around, but once she was satisfied that she'd left no trace and properly stamped out her fire, she began a careful climb up a nearby embankment and back towards the road proper.
It wasn't until just before noontime that the muddy-haired mage passed through the gates to the town of Falkreath. It was by no means her destination, but it was as good a place as any to stop for a rest. Her patched boots were by no means ideal for walking with such a heavy load, and now that she was in civilization, she could do something about it.
"Welcome to Gray Pine Goods. Don't think I've seen you around here before, come to trade?" A middle-aged Nord man greeted Marie as she wiggled her way through the narrow door.
"Yeah, I'm, ah… just passing through." Marie awkwardly set her pack down against the shop counter, unbuckling a large flap. She was never the best with people, but she did know what they liked to pay money for. Most of the weight in her pack was due to valuables she'd picked up on her travels—a deer hide, a small collection of possibly fake ore chunks, and a couple potion jars she'd mixed herself the night prior.
"Road's ain't safe as they were now that the Empire's out and about." The Nord man commented as he sorted through the small mound of goods that was brought to his counter. Most of Marie's offerings were the kinds of merchandise always in some sort of demand, even if little of it was worth much coin.
Marie just nodded along. She knew little of the politics of Skyrim, but she did know enough not to ask for details; it seemed like every person had their own opinions about the new civil war, and the last thing she wanted was to end up on the wrong end of a particularly aggressive one. The shopkeep seemed slightly disappointed that she didn't bite at his comment, but he didn't press the matter any further.
"You've got… let's say sixty gold here. What can I get you?" He concluded after sorting through everything.
"Two of those apples, and, uh… however much of that dried meat."
With a nod, the Nord stepped away and retrieved the items. Marie wasn't the haggling type, she never had the confidence or swagger to argue over prices with traders. Then again, she only had a few dozen gold to her name, so she could certainly stand to learn.
Once she'd packed her end of the trade into her (pleasantly lighter) backpack, Marie excused herself from the small store. The leather kitbag looked almost deflated, practically hanging off her form, but she didn't mind. A quick stop at the local tavern provided her with a modest lunch of roasted fish and vegetables, as well as a tip about a bounty on some bandits camped out at a place called Embershard. Having neither the desire, willpower, nor capability to murder a bunch of people, she was instead referred to the town blacksmith.
Lod, Falkreath's smith, was inundated with orders. The head radiating from the side of his home was enough to alert Marie to that even before she rounded the corner. She hadn't been told exactly what extra hands were needed for at the workshop, but now that she was here, it took little imagination to guess.
"'M sorry, lass, I've got too much on my hands as is. If its weapons you need, Gray Pine across town can help you." Lod wiped some sweat from his brow when he noticed Marie approaching.
"Ah, uh… Valga sent me, she said you needed help."
"That I do, take an apron. How well do you know your way around a forge?"
Marie obliged, setting down her travel bag well out of the way and taking her thick outer cloak off to rest with it. Even in the brisk afternoon, the heat of the forge was already causing her to sweat a little.
"It's been a long time, but I used to help out back home."
"Good enough for me." The taller man returned to the forge, beckoning Marie over. Even with her inexperience, the broad smith was quite helpful in showing Marie the ropes while remaining productive. The order that was overwhelming Lod was an imperial request for hide-stitched helmets and various small arms, items that took little mechanical skill to craft but the numbers of which still proved challenging for one man. Marie was put to work on the grindstone, sharpening the half-finished knives and swords handed to her just as she had when she was a kid. Every so often she was called away from her seat to drive needles through layers of cured hides or cut apart strips of wood, and aside from setting her sleeve on fire once or twice, the experience wasn't wholly terrible. Even if her presence only had a negligible impact their output, the conversation made what was in reality most of the afternoon into what felt like half an hour.
For his part, Lod had no idea who Marie was or where she came from, and he didn't ask. She wasn't the most sociable, nor the most gifted metalworker, but he was just happy to have the company. The extra hands for the more unskilled labor didn't hurt either, especially from someone who seemed more willing to learn than most. She was by no means skilled, but when it came to studding leather or wrapping cross guards, skill was irrelevant. Regardless, she earned herself an honest pay, but there was always the opportunity for more.
"If you're headed north, would you take one of these hammers with you? 'M happy to throw in extra for the trouble." Lod offered, breaking the silence the pair were sharing after finishing all they'd accomplish for the day. The sun had yet to set, and Marie had let slip her plans to continue on north to reach Nithi Ahn Strond on the shores of Lake Ilinalta by nightfall, a task still well within possibility even if she loitered for another hour.
The novice apothecary (and now novice smith) nodded, happier for the extra gold than the extra work. When Lod returned from a brief trip inside, he did so with four items: A large, fancy-looking steel war hammer, a small, poorly-honed knife (that Marie recognized as her own handiwork, the first blade she was handed), a sealed letter, and a satchel of presumably gold.
"These'r for Anja, runs the trading post in Nithi, can't miss her. This's your wage, and 'at's something to remember it by. You've got the makings of a damn fine smith, hope you'll remember me when you're workin' the Skyforge." He finished with a wiry grin, and in spite of the humor, Marie wasn't entirely sure if he was being serious or patronizing her. People were so complicated, why did she have to interpret these things?
With a polite smile and a few more pleasantries, Marie saw herself off from the forge, returning her apron and crawling back to the warm comfort of her thick travel robe. Heavy as it was, she quickly discovered that the weapon made a decent walking stick.
Before she could leave town, the traveler stopped by the local potion shop to trade ingredients and get whatever tips would come free. The proprietor of Grave Concoctions unnerved Marie a little, but the visit saw her leave with a satchel filled with plants she knew how to use rather than the random mushrooms and dried leaves she'd been lugging, as well as a new jar for storing insects. The last one got dropped. Once she'd seen all she thought she needed to and got directions from a helpful (and very tall) guardswoman at the north gate, Marie set out.
Walking with a great hammer made Marie feel like a bit of a badass, although the heft of the weapon was not lost on her. How in the world did people carry these into battle? An Imperial patrol captain she passed on the road complimented her on the implement and referred her to sign up with the legion as a mercenary, something she had zero intention to do. Still, she wasn't going to tell the three armored men with swords that to their faces, so she just politely smiled and went on her way.
By the time Marie reached Nithi Ahn Strond, the sky was painted a fading blood red. She had strongly considered stopping to make camp, lest she end up lost on the roads at night, but the faint glow of civilization on the horizon was enough to convince her to press on. The small city was pressed against the lakebed, supported by the massive Half-Moon Mill on its eastmost edge. Considering the width of the road she took to get here, it wasn't a stretch to imagine Falkreath and Nithi shared the burdens of logging the rich forests, but if they were, the lumber certainly wasn't coming from anywhere she had noticed.
Finding the general trader's shop was a little more difficult than she expected now that the sun was almost set and the majority of the shop signs were only lit by fickle torchlight. She ended up walking past the building twice, mistaking it for a simple home, and now that she stood at the door, Marie couldn't blame herself too much for the mistake. Inside, the building still looked like a home, divided by an improvised wall that split the building into a storefront and what she could imagine was a living space behind the curtain. Two small children were running about the front area when she walked in, although the exasperated-looking woman resting her elbows on the desk was quick to rebuke them. Despite the bags under her eyes, she quickly shifted to the most pleasant greeting she could muster.
"Welcome to the shop, come to buy or trade?"
"Actually, ah… Lod sent me, from Falkreath. Are you Anja?"
The mention of the brawny smith seemed to perk the weary woman up a little, enough that she didn't sound totally dead when she broke character. She nodded in confirmation.
"This is for you, and so is a letter, if I can…" Marie trailed off, resting the steel war hammer against the counter before slinging her backpack around to try and find the letter she'd been handed as well. It only got a tiny bit crumpled, although the mage was quick to subtly straighten the parchment out before she set it too on the countertop.
"Thank you, young woman. You'll have to give Lod my gratitude as well." She picked up the sealed paper first, although chose not to open it, instead sliding it quickly into a pocket in her apron. "What do I owe you?"
"Nothing, nothing… I, ah, he paid me before I left."
Almost immediately, Marie realized she could have named a price and probably received it without any questions asked. This speechcraft thing really was hard! On the upside, Anja was polite enough to insist, producing a few coins from behind the counter and insisting Marie took them regardless. The mage did stick around a little longer, more or less trapped in small talk until she was bailed out of the conversation by the nosy pair of children (who were Anja's, Marie learned). It wasn't a bad conversation, Anja seemed like a nice lady, but Marie had spent so long on her feet that she only really had the energy left in her to find the inn, buy herself a meal, and rent a room—a task she put herself to work at the second she saw an out from the pleasantries.
With a belly full of the sort of inexpensive warm food that Skyrim was mythical about in her homeland, Marie sat down on her rented bed. Her hair was still wet from the bath she'd taken, but before she called it a night for good, the woman pulled her legs up to a crossed position and closed her eyes to meditate on the day. Mindfulness was the key to a healthy life, or so she'd been taught.
Her morning was good, she concluded. The woods were nice, and she took a minute to dwell on the misty morning scene she woke up to.
Falkreath was nice as well. Lod was nice. The slightly crude dagger sitting on her bed stand was a nice memento that would have likely been thrown out otherwise. The tavernkeeper and potion shop owners weren't that bad either, although such a determination took a minute for her to settle on.
Anja seemed like a sweet woman, she liked to talk quite a bit. Her husband went off to war, she ran her shop out of her own home, and still raised her kids. It was inspiring. Nithi didn't seem so bad. Tomorrow, she'd get to see the lake properly. The thought was comforting.
It was also quite comforting to rest on a real bed and cover herself in real blankets. So comforting that she laid her head down and was asleep near instantly.
Location Discovered: Falkreath, Half-Moon Mill, Nithi Ahn Strond (Divine Villages)
Main Quest Completed: Live Another Life, The Evergreen Grove (Live Another Life)
Unmarked Quest Completed: Blacksmithing Tutorial
Miscellaneous Objective Completed: Deliver War Hammer to Nithi Ahn Strond (Divine VIllages), Deliver Letter to Nithi Ahn Strond (Divine Villages)
Just kidding, expect updates as they come. Happy new year!
