She thrust her sword deep into the belly of her foe, and felt the hotblood spill onto her hand. The bandit twitched. She hesitated momentarily before withdrawing her sword. Then she placed it back in her scabbard.
"Your blade work is impressive." Her companion said.
"I know. You've told me that before." She said.
"Yet I remain impressed. I wouldn't expect such from a bard." Her companion replied.
"Really? A wondering bard often has to learn to ply a blade as well as a lyre, in order to get by in such a dangerous world. Surely you have skalds and the like here?" The bard asked.
"Yes. Mayhaps more in the old days. Most now though are effete minstrels who know little and less of how to get by outside inns and wine sinks. They have more skill than the average person mayhaps, but not anything like yours." The nord woman said.
"You know you really don't have to flatter me Freya. You only have to ask and I'd lay with you." The bard said. She was coming a bit out of her battle fugue.
"Would love to. Sadly I have a code against fucking bards." Freya said. The Bard examined her companion closely, not for the first time. She was quite a bit taller than her and had an Amazonian physique. Freya had feminine features, with just a bit of an edge. She looked as badass as she was hot, like some kind of valkyrie.
"Well, we will see how long that keeps." The bard said. She began to look over the camp. It was a destroyed mess now. Being wrecked by the fury of combat and the spells the bard had cast. There probably wasn't much that was salvageable, but she decided to toss it over for Loot anyway. She found a couple of spell scrolls, which made some sense as there had been a mage slinging spells. She also found some gold and a few potions.
"I think that's all. Let's head back to Whiterun." The Bard said.
"Sounds like a plan. We've got coin to spend." Freya said.
The two began their journey back to Whiterun.
Yew found himself in a temple. He wasn't sure how he knew it was a temple, it had that feel, but certainly, it could be something else, he just knew that it was. It was a marble structure, fairly small, but with much-dedicated artisanry and masonry put into it. As he looked around he saw various symbols that were familiar. Triskeles, spirals and knots, Celtic crosses, though maybe here they were Breton. He also noticed alters to Kyne and Namira and Y'ffre and Hircine below small statues depicting them. He was in a place both wholly familiar and wholly alien, and he felt the warmth that signified his connection to these strange gods.
"You've done well my apprentice." Said a woman's voice. She was standing a bit away from him, near the alters. A beautiful Breton woman probably in her thirties, She was wearing white druid robes, which were tailored well enough to show off her curves a bit.
"Thank you." Yew said, and felt himself bow.
"You will have to do much more to prove yourself, but you have come a long way from when I first met you." She said.
"I...I appreciate that." Yew said.
"The old faith is growing again, and I expect you will become a very important member of our order in days to come. You have the talent I believe, to one day become Archdruid. That is why it's important I take great care with your training. So I hope you understand that's why I've been so cautious. It is not because I doubt your abilities." She said.
"I understand." Yew said.
"Good." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. It seemed intimate. Beyond that of just a simple mentor and student. But Yew felt nothing. It was like he was simply watching this all play out from his own point of view, but without the memories, thoughts and emotions he had at the time.
Yew woke up so suddenly he felt his surroundings to be strange, and it took him a moment to recall where he was. The Bannered Mare in Whiterun, that was right. He had a mission. He dressed, prayed and prepared himself for the day. Then he left his room. As he did, Uthgerd was ascending the stairs.
"Good, you're awake. You need to come down here immediately." Uthgerd said. Something about her tone set his teeth on edge. She was in danger mode. Something had gone wrong. Yew nodded and followed her back down the stairs, so focused he was, he barely glanced at Uthgerd's large rear end.
The Bannered Mare was filled with Men and a few women clad for battle. The staff were all restrained. Either tied up with rope or being threatened with weapons. A few tavern regulars, including a couple of guards, lay dead on the floor. A few with blade wounds, one with a crushed head, and another few who had burned to death, likely the work of a caster.
At the center of all this, Ivan was drinking some mead. He was surrounded by three of the outsiders. A scarred and short Breton, armed to the teeth with blades, a hulking Orc with a sword at his hip and a large mace on his back, and an Imperial woman with a staff and wearing robes. Ivan's posture was defensive, it was clear that despite him seeming to calmly drink his beverage, he wasn't comfortable with the presence of these brigands. Just under the table, was Greta, tied up and with a rag in her mouth. She could be slain in a moment by any of those at the table or one of their nearby underlings.
"Ah yes. Just the man we're looking for. If you can be called a man." Said the Breton. He had a darker complexion from most Bretons, like he had spent some time in warmer climates, and it had served to tan him some. He had his legs up on the table, and he was giving Yew a cocky smirk.
"Well, call me what you like. So long as you don't hurt anybody else here and we can talk like gentlemen." Yew said.
"Gentleman huh? You're not an average mage aren't ye? You spent some time in the courts. Got a whiff of it on ya." The Breton said.
"Well done. You've caught me." Yew said. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, facing the center of the table and staring him down.
"I have. Got you right where I want you." He said.
"And what do you intend to do with me?" Yew asked.
"Well...apparently, there are some people who want you. Don't know why. But We're getting paid quite a lot to bring you to them alive." He said.
"Your not taking him." Uthgerd growls.
"I really don't think your in any position to make demands. Grog?" The Breton said. The orc drew his sword and pointed the tip at Greta's throat. She stayed perfectly calm and still. Her eyes pleading with Yew. She didn't want him to give himself up, he realized.
"Leave her alone." Ivan said. It was low, casual and gentler then Yew would expect from him.
"And why should we do that?" The Breton said.
"Because nothing is going to happen to her or to him." Ivan said, indicating Yew with a nod of his head.
"Why not?" The Breton said.
"Because if anything does I'll kill Grog. Then I'll kill your harlot witch. Then I'll kill all of your sellswords. Then and only then will I kill you. Depending upon how things unfold, I may kill you more or less gently. If any more innocents die, it will be slow." Ivan said. His tone was still low. It seemed like this wasn't something he enjoyed. He was just stating the facts, a bit sadly as well.
"Ivan. You've always been a milkdrinker. Even when everyone thought you were some true nord. I could see it. Smell it on you. You were always too much of a romantic." The Breton said.
"I have my weaknesses. But I'm good with a sword. That's all I need to end you." Ivan said, and he shot the Breton a glare that would turn stone to dust.
"Well. Good thing I don't intend to hurt either. I'd hate for our friendship to end. Yew Fey, it's time to go with us quietly." The Breton said.
Uthgerds hand went to her sword, which prompted The Breton's goons to draw their blades.
"There's no need for that. I'll go quietly." Yew said.
"Yew." Uthgerd said, turning her head just slightly to give Yew a bit of a look.
"It's fine. I'm not going to let anyone die just for my sake. I'll go." Yew said. He walked slowly and quietly forward, hands placed out in a submissive posture. Of course, that didn't exactly guarantee that he wouldn't try and use a spell, so the Breton's band formed around him.
The Breton got up from his table and took the final few steps.
"Not so smug now are ya?" The Breton said.
"I've never been the smug type." He said.
Of course, Yew did not intend to go quietly. He reckoned he could cast piercing thorn fast enough to hit the Breton, that would probably startle the nearby goons for the couple seconds he needed to get a bit out of harms way. Then he would have to take the situation as it was. He just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity.
Ivan stood up.
"I'll go with you." Ivan said. The Breton looked confused, so did Yew.
"What?" The Breton said.
"I need to make sure you don't harm anyone else." Ivan said. The Breton turned around.
"Now you just listen here." The Breton said. Yew saw his chance and began making the hand motions necessary to cast Piercing thorn.
Then the door to the inn flew off it's hinges into the inn. A tall nord woman and a female Redguard burst into the room. The Redguard casting flames from her left hand while swinging a sword with her right. The Nord woman also whirled about with her blade. Ending the lives of two unfortunate sellswords in a matter of moments. Two other sellswords were burned by the flames, and then taken out of their misery with a few slashes from the Redguards blade.
Things began unfolding quite quickly. Yew sent a Piercing thorn into the abdomen of the Breton and he recoiled, grabbing the thorn sticking out of his side. Sadly for Yew, he didn't rip it out immediately. If he did he would have bled out quite quickly. Uthgerd sprung into action and decapitated one of the sellswords nearest to Yew. Two others turned to face Uthgerd, as she was the most immediately intimidating presence in their vicinity. Hualda smashed a bottle over the head of the sellsword woman that held her at knifepoint, then she took her knife from the knocked out woman and slit her throat.
Ivan sighed and scoffed. He took out his blade, and stared at Grog. Normally he would have given an opponent of Grogs honor the chance to surrender. However, even if he didn't know Grog well enough to know he'd refuse, looking into Grogs eyes he knew there was no other way.
"We'll settle this through strength of arms. No hurting the woman as long as I draw breath." Ivan said.
"Fine. I don't like hurting soft-skinned women anyway, less I need to." Grog said. They drew closer to each other and soon the clash of steel on steel reverberated through the inn.
The bard found herself quite preoccupied as well. There was only so long she could cast burning hands, and now she found herself fighting with a Nord Sellsword, who was armed with a sword and shield. It was incredibly difficult to get past her opponent's defenses. She slashed left and right, but the sellsword kept putting his shield up and blocking the strike.
She needed a way to get past it, and she knew just the method.
"Fus!" The Bard yelled and it resonated across the room, distracting most of the combatants. The shockwave knocked the Bard's rival on his ass and she cut off his head with one fluid movement.
Yew was dealing with slightly overwhelming odds. It was true that most of the guards were dealing with Uthgerd, but he was still surrounded by The Bretons outlaws. So far, he was just trying to stay alive. Ducking slashes and swings of various weapons and trying not to be pushed into a corner. He needed to find the opportunity to cast a spell.
Finally, he found it when the Bard shouted. He drew the sigil for Piercing Thorn in the air and sent it into the neck of the nearest sellsword, killing him instantly. Yew quickly drew it again as the sellswords came to their wits, hitting a woman straight in her mailed chest. However, while it staggered her, it didn't kill her and she managed to cross the distance and slashed Yew across the arm, cutting him heavily across his arm. Yew drew back, clutching his bleeding arm.
"Vile Thorns." Yew said while quickly drawing the sigil in the air. Three poisonous thin thorns materialized and hit his attacker right in the face. She fell to her knees and then slumped over, dead.
Another came in to his left. He got a face full of acid for his trouble. Yew sent Sparks flying towards the one approaching from his right, shocking him and leaving him spasming on his feet. Yew then felt a sharp pain and spun backwards. A glancing blow had hit him across the side, dealt by a woman hefting a small axe. The other sellsword recovered from the sparks and the two began approaching yew from either side.
Yew quickly took stock. He only had 1 use of Vile Thorns left. He had one use of Entangle, but if he used it, he would have to count on the floorboards of the Bannered Mare to be weak enough, or the spell to be strong enough, for vines to burst through and wrap around them. He was already out of Sparks and Acid Splash, as he prepared his spells to have a wider range of versatility and not specifically for combat. Though he did have a couple more Piercing Thorns. Right now he would have to make sure his Piercing thorns were accurate as he couldn't count on penetrating their armor enough to kill in one strike.
Yew had a couple of other first level spells. Touch of Rot and Winter Wind, but he had no idea how effective they'd be against these two. Really at this point, he had to choose something and just hope it would work out for the best.
"Come closer you bastards." He muttered.
"No amount of coin is worth our lives. So sadly, this is the end for you." She said.
Yew's back was up against the wall, both literally and metaphorically. He'd need to pull something out of the bag to succeed her. Judging from the racket in the rest of the room, no help was coming.
It was now or never.