Disclaimer: I don't own any Skyrim or Elder Scrolls Property, I'm just an average citizen on the internet writing fanfic in my free time. And reading fanfic too. I enjoy fanfiction a lot.
A/N:
'Dragon?!' refers to thoughts.
"Dragon?!" refers to spoken dialogue.
Who said that animals are more bold in the night-time than they are during the day? Whoever said that is a damn liar.
About five minutes after I had left the confines and general vicinity of Windhelm, I noticed a pack of wolves chasing after a fox. There were eight, I'm certain. But as soon as they had killed the fox, which didn't really take long with eight of them, they noticed me. A bystander from about sixteen feet away. Naturally, as any living organism with a brain and a sense of danger, I ran as fast as I could away from them. Naturally, as they have four legs and I only have two, they took little time in chasing me down. So, as nature has willed it, my survival instinct is making me push the very limits of my physical abilities, and considering that they have yet to catch me, I think it's working. Consider me simultaneously proud of these latent capabilities and scared for my life.
"Shit!", I yell as one of the wolves lunged at my leg.
"I didn't even do anything! I just watched!", I yelled as they continued to chase after me. Though that proved to be futile, it doesn't really seem that they're interested in whether or not I interfered. I'm just another moving slab of meat.
They also likely didn't understand any spoken language at all.
I kept up my pace of running, hoping to come across a capable traveler or perhaps a shack that a hunter lived in, so that I may have some form of assistance in resisting this chase.
I realized at that moment, that they were unlikely to stop chasing me even if I continued to run as fast as I could in any direction or towards any person. I would also run the risk of putting said other people in danger who might not be as equipped as I to handle this situation.
Even if I was only equipped with a steel war-axe and absolutely no protection whatsoever, better than having to use my fists against a bunch of angry wolves though.
Along the path I was running on, the river ran adjacent. With split-second, if somewhat foolish thinking, I ran off the path and towards the river. If I somehow get dragged along the current again, well, I can't say it would be any worse than what had happened before. Though the details of that still escaped me, I figured this tactic would at least only get me mild injuries and Rockjoint.
Though some may argue that those things are not very minor happenings, I would argue that I could be swooped up by a dragon and eaten alive. At least in one scenario, I have a chance at living if treatment is administered quickly.
As soon as I made it to the riverbank, I turned to the pursuing pack of wolves beginning to form to surround me in the most menacing and somewhat humorous way possible, simultaneously. Humorous in the sense that they were all drooling like pups at the sight of a bit of food, and menacing in the same way in which I had just described.
'Come on Amos, there's got to be a way you make it out of this.', I think of all the possible ways that I can get out of this situation with what little I had, and the skills that I've discovered in this short time. I can't take on all of them at the same time, that would be a fool's errand. I know what you're thinking, yes I am a fool, but not fool enough to be torn apart by all of them at once.
Running through all of the options that someone like me could come up with in a moment of fear, I came up with one that was, firstly, plausible, and secondly, less dangerous than the others.
Pulling out my war axe at my hip, and a piece of venison that I bought in Windhelm, I enacted my plan.
I threw the venison at the middle of the pack in order for the majority of the pack to be distracted, and lo and behold, about five of the wolves went for it, they must have been more hungry than I thought they were.
With a majority of the pack distracted, I went for the isolated wolves with my axe. I went for the two on my left as they were looking at the others devouring the piece that I had flung earlier, definitely distracted by the open flesh. They were no challenge, as I had sliced clean through one's neck and the other's as they were turning to notice me approaching them.
By the time that I had killed those two wolves, the others begun to catch on and started to turn their attention to me as opposed to the venison. Luckily, I moved before they could begin to lunge at me and managed to put down another two wolves.
The remaining wolves caught on and turned to coordinate an attack on me. But I had a plan for this situation too, however last-minute it might have been. I'd noticed something within the attack patterns of the wolves, even as a pack, they do not all lunge at once. One wolf will lunge first, and as soon as the others notice an opening, they would also lunge one at a time. I assume it's to keep some semblance of order in descending position of power, but I couldn't really tell you.
There were four left, and as I predicted, one began to lunge at me. I got low and rolled away from its attack, bracing myself for the movement of another. The next wolf was not as nimble as the last, and as soon as it came at me, I swung my axe down on its head and killed it. One less to pose a threat, a handful more to go. I'm more surprised that I hadn't yet gotten injured, though I really shouldn't be thinking so confidently right now. These remaining wolves are faster and one is much bigger than the others were. I'm assuming it's the leader of the pack, and the one that has been conserving its energy the entire time.
I think I'm screwed, but no turning back now I suppose.
With my hands on axe, I waited for them to attack. With my back to the water, I had some idea of what to do with the remaining wolves. I would wait for them to attempt to strike me, and using their momentum against them, I would move out of the way and let them fall into the strong currents behind me. These wolves, however, don't seem as easy to trick and distract as the others. Granted, they were part of the ones that did take the bait of the venison, but their guard seemed up during this confrontation.
Minutes went by as they observed me, pacing back and forth between the general half circle they had formed around me, in what I assume to be a formation that would ensure they would find an opening in my defense. Animals are smarter than men and mer give them credit for, I'll recognize that.
My luck had seemed to run out, because after minutes of a stalemate, they had begun backing me into the water itself, without me noticing the current at my heel. Only when I slipped did I realize, and did they begin their attack.
The largest one stayed behind as the two other wolves came at me in an alternating path. I managed to keep one at bay with a swing, but the other attacked me as I had finished the swing.
"Damn it all!", that wolf was able to nick my swinging arm causing a gash to open up. The third wolf then began to make his move as I moved to put the wound behind me away from their fangs. It ran at me full sprint, fangs bared, as the other two also winded up their own movements. I was wrong, maybe they do all move in tandem.
All three of them jumped at me simultaneously, and I moved back on instinct, slipping on a wet rock and landing on my ass. Mid fall, I realized something. I was totally screwed, and I could not possibly have made a worse blunder at this moment in time.
When I fell, I simply waited for the sweet release of death, and the painful sensation of their fangs ripping and tearing my flesh apart as I slowly lose consciousness. I closed my eyes and waited, and waited, and waited.
Then, I heard a large splash. I opened my eyes to see nothing in front of me but the small slope that led back up to the trail. Where had the wolves gone?
I turned around and heard whimpers coming from the water, noticing the wolves that were meant to be attacking me being carried away by the strong currents that led back towards Windhelm. It seems that my luck had not yet run out. As the wolves were carried away from me, I smiled at my fortune, and sat there savoring the sweet air that I thought that I would miss when my soul eventually returned to some realm of Oblivion.
After a couple of minutes though, I did realize I had an open flow of blood on my arm, and remembered that's a bad thing. Pulling on the same sensation from the magic I had used on Suvaris in Windhelm, I thought to direct it to the wound. After a couple of seconds, I could feel my body tingle and watched as the same light that had come to my hands were not surrounding the wound on my arm. It was not a perfect fix though, as it had left a scar in place of the wound that I had accrued during the battle with the pack of wolves. At least it can be used as a conversation starter for any warriors that I come across, though they'd probably be more experienced with stronger opponents, not just hungry woodland predators.
I do feel proud of myself for surviving though, nobody can take that away from me. Only when they brag about maybe killing a pack of trolls or a giant, will I feel inferior in any way, shape, or form.
I stayed on the riverbank for a few minutes, basking in the adrenaline rush that had taken me over in the fight, the air suddenly feeling more fresh and the world suddenly feeling more clear than it had before. This will wear off, but the survival rush is something to appreciate. Eventually, as the adrenaline wore off, I realized that I'd rather be in the safety of a cabin to nap than along the riverbank, as soothing as the current was to the ears.
It took me only two hours to make my way back to Mixwater Mill, the prospect of a warm bed being all the motivation I needed to make my way there the fastest way that I could, sprinting. In hindsight, I could have also bought a horse for the mill, but it would have likely been attacked with me against those wolves. It was probably for the best that I didn't get it, then.
With the mill in view, I saw Gilfre talking with the Khajiit caravan that typically sits outside of Windhelm, the four of them sitting on her porch. I make my way towards them, as I know them to be great company. Ma'dran, the leader of the caravan, notices me, and his eyes light up in glee. I met the three Khajiit a week or two into my recovery as I was cutting wood, and instantly hit it off with them. Not that it was very difficult, but the way they speak is quite peculiar to say the least, an adjustment from typical vernacular, to be sure.
This caravan, as far as I know, profits greatly from the war. Ma'dran had told me that, because of their inventory consisting mostly of armor and weapons, the Stormcloaks and Imperial army alike suck up the extra gear like a baby nursing from their mother's teat. So much so that sometimes they run out of gear to supply the armies and use their earnings for gear to flip for a higher price. What a lucrative business tactic, preying on the desperation of the war. It's almost admirable. Almost.
I walk up to them with a smile that I cannot help forming on my face, a truly friendly face after a day full of scowls, mild threats, and hostile animals.
"This Khajiit welcomes you, friend." Ma'dran greets me as I approach, his hand outstretched towards me.
I take it in stride and shake with a firm grip, "And this Imperial welcomes you.", imitating the way they speak.
He smiles at me, and the guards chuckle in amusement. If I remember correctly, their names are Ra'zhinda and Ma'jhad, last I met them, they were also quite welcoming. They traded much of their supply of food and tonics to us for helping them gather firewood so that they could camp outside of Windhelm. We had many drinks and they shared various tales of their experiences from Elsweyr to Skyrim, it felt like I was meeting with an old friend. Ironic how the people farthest from home can feel more home-y than the people who actually live in Skyrim.
I was very happy to see them, outside of Gilfre, they were the first people I genuinely enjoyed being around, and looked forward to seeing them every time they passed by. Ma'jhad even taught me how to pick locks, though I wasn't so sure that it was going to come in handy any time soon. Still, I could always use a few new skills here and there. I'm not going to give up a free lesson if somebody offers it to me.
"How's business been? Last we spoke, you told me that your armors and weapons had all sold out and you had to resupply in Solitude. Did you get more?", I feel like I know the answer to this question, but it didn't hurt to know for sure. Ma'dran may be incredibly capable as a vendor, but the war does strain supply routes sometimes.
"This one has been doing quite well. The resupply at Solitude gave this one a bigger supply of weapons and armor, and some jewelry too. We also met with Ri'saad along the way back here, and he had given us more materials to sell as well, so it has been most pleasant these past few months since we came here last." Ma'dran smiled. At least someone has found a degree of happiness here, and by the tone of his voice, the other caravans are doing just as well. I have yet to meet the other ones, but if they are anything like Ma'dran, I'm sure I'll like them just as much.
"That's wonderful to hear my friend! I'm sure that trade will be quite plentiful with the Stormcloaks, as it usually is of course.", perhaps too plentiful, they like to break the bank and clear out the weapons that this caravan usually has.
This time, Ra'zhinda spoke up, "We are not going to Windhelm this time, we just stopped by to see you here.". Odd. That's not typical. They always go to and from Solitude and Windhelm to trade with whoever is willing to buy, what's going on?
"How come? You never give up a chance to make money, I would think that you were making your way to Windhelm but just stopping here for wood again." They looked at me with twinkles in their eyes. I felt unnerved, yet not in the way that I would feel if I were about to be eaten.
"We came for YOU. Friend.", she said again, with a bit more emphasis. And a smile.
"Why?", I was genuinely confused. The khajiit caravans really only had khajiit traveling in small groups, and I couldn't really fathom why they'd need me. I've just gotten over an injury, healed myself from another injury today, and cannot fight at all. Hell, the fighting would mostly be done by the other two, so why me?
"Because I asked them to take you around the country.", Gilfre says as she comes out of her house. "You seemed restless here, Amos. That, and you're basically done recovering, so I can't just have you helping me here all the time. Not that I don't appreciate it, but I can do this myself too. You should see the rest of Skyrim. Away from Windhelm, depressing place that it is, but away from here as well."
"I quite enjoy being here though...", I trailed off. I was not quite so sure that this was a good idea, but I can't deny that I would also love to see the rest of Skyrim. A caravan is the best way to do that, and I'd get some experience in survival skills that would make dealing with inconveniences much more simple. On one hand, I can do easy and safe work here for Gilfre and not put myself in the line of danger. On the other hand, I go on an adventure and definitely put myself in a precarious situations, but I also learn a lot. What do I do?
"Well, you do not have to decide now. We can wait until you've rested on it, your new scar and bloodstain on your sleeve are not very subtle.". I forgot that they would see that. Not like I could have done much about it anyway, there isn't a spell that can clean clothes, however convenient that might be. It would be really convenient actually. Would that count as a restoration spell?
Sidetracked, not important. Save for later date.
"I've already made up my mind, anyway. Much as I do enjoy being here, Gilfre has a point. I need to see the country, and going around with you all is going to be the best way to do that. That, and I can go into cities for supplies, and you guys can't. So I can help there, at least.", I didn't quite know what I was getting into exactly, but I'm sure it will work out.
"Wonderful! We leave tomorrow at noon. We will pass by Windhelm briefly then use the northern route to go from Windhelm to Solitude, hopefully without much trouble.", Ma'dran enthusiastically exclaimed, clearly very excited with me coming along.
I looked to the other two, seeing the same enthusiasm in their eyes, but a little more toned back when it came to excitement. I'll assume the fact that their tails are moving more quickly from side-to-side is a good sign. I then looked to Gilfre, and saw a happy relief in her eyes. I must have been a topic of concern for her, nursing me to health all these weeks.
"I'll do my best to help you all as we travel together. Take care of me.", I curtsy to them, eliciting a rowdy laugh from Ma'dran.
That night, in celebration of this new chapter, we drank to our hearts content. They had a very small supply of mead and ale, but it didn't matter all that much. The five of us needing only stories and company to last us through the night. I had also taken a bit of moon sugar at the insistence of the caravan, albeit reluctantly, and transported my consciousness to Oblivion itself. A trip for a lifetime, though considering it is highly addictive I'm never going to do it again. I don't remember when exactly I fell asleep that night, but what I do know, is that I slept like a baby.
The next morning, I woke up with a throbbing headache. I really shouldn't have drunk so much ale and mead at their encouragement, but it did taste very good. I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling of the workers' house that I had grown so accustomed to seeing. Did someone carry me in here? I can't imagine that I walked straight to this house in a drunken stupor and fell asleep so soundly on my bed with the covers over me. I know how I am when drunk, and I am not that impressive.
I heard a rustle from the covers to my right and became very aware of the weight on my chest and leg. I also became very aware of the dark fur that covered said weight. The earrings, the tail, the purr.
I laid my head back down and stared once more to the ceiling.
Only one thought crossing through my mind.
'Oh shit'.
