Chapter One
"Aye, Reven. Another!" one of the more drunken patrons of the Silver-Blood inn said joyfully tossing a septim to Reven as he sat down at the corner table with his family. At this hour the only tavern in Markarth was a hot spot for a night of debauchery. Due to it's reputation it was said that Sanguine himself was rumored to make a stop in from time to time to challenge foolish mortals to a drinking contest only to drag them off to The Myriad Realms of Revelry once they were too drunk to stand. Of course Reven knew better. It was just an old bard's tale.
"No more for now, Vorgnar. The daughter and grandson just arrived and I'd like to see them for the evening. Go have another on me," he tossed the gold coin back and the drunk missed it completely, stumbling after it as it rolled across the hard wooden floor into the crowd around the bar.
"Hello my darling Elinoth. I hope the road wasn't too rough on you. It's so good to see you both again," Reven said joyfully hugging the tall Altmer woman with long, golden hair that was braided down her back; her young son sat watching the newly ensuing brawl over the septim.
"Not too bad this time. The carriage diver was nice enough, sang a song that might have given you a run for your money," she said winking at him as she took her seat by the fire.
"Me? The greatest bard in all of Skyrim? Doubt that. Oh, Calcelmo my boy look at how much bigger you've gotten!"
The boys attention was grabbed at the sound of his name. "Are you going to tell us a story grandfather?" he asked.
"It's all he's talked about the entire way here," Elinoth said tucking a napkin into her fine robes and grabbing a fork and knife as her salmon steak arrived at the table.
"If you want to hear a story my boy I'll gladly tell one once we get back to my-"
"If you're telling your stories old man you might as well tell the lot of us and make a little coin off it," a nearby Breton draped in black robes said tipping his head at Reven and pulling a small sack of gold off his belt and tossing it onto the table, "I'd love a good story to cap off the night, bard." He had a dubious look about him that made Reven a little uneasy, but gold was gold and times were trying.
"It wont hurt for one last story before we leave," Elinoth said taking a delicate bite of the charred salmon and tapping the corners of her mouth with the napkin. The other patrons of the inn were taking notice and started walking over to the little corner table by the hearth.
"Well then if everyone wants to hear it we'll let little Calcelmo pick one, huh?"
"Yeah!" the patrons closest to the table, now pulling up chairs and having a seat cried out.
"What kind of story would you like to hear then?" Reven asked the boy.
"I don't know. One about adventure," Calcelmo said nervously aware that the entire bar had gone silent (for a tavern) and everyone had eyes and ears on him.
"One about adventure, huh? Well I can tell you all about an adventure I took upon as a young elf. It's a strange tale full of mystery and wonder," he said.
It all started in the year 73 of the fourth era, and it started as many great hero tales do; with a naive boy trying to win the affection of a girl who has no interest in him...
"Hey, Aster I think that elf is following us again," Baulder said glancing over his shoulder as he walked hand in hand with his fiance. Following about thirty feet back, Reven watched as the love of his life rounded the corner into an alley with that giant oaf of a nord, Baulder. Today he would surprise her with the necklace he had made and she would fall in love with him. They would be married and live happily for the rest of eternity in each others arms.
"Hey, half-ling. Can you get lost? You're giving my girl the creeps following us around like a shadow all over the city," Baulder said suddenly standing before him. He had gotten so lost in thought thinking about his future with Aster that he didn't notice them stop and he nearly walked right into them. The city of Markarth was a vast stone maze with roads and walkways that snaked up and down the vast buildings built centuries ago by the mysterious Dwemer. It was easy to surprise someone around a corner or in a narrow alleyway.
"Oh, Aster. I didn't realize it was you walking up ahead of me. So silly of me. How are you doing today my lady?" Reven said bowing to her and removing his fur hat.
"Hello, Reven," she said begrudgingly.
"Don't talk to this milk-drinker, my love," Baulder said pulling her hand to keep walking.
"Wait! I have something for you," Reven said rummaging through his graying leather backpack and pulling out the shining silver necklace with a beautiful flawless emerald embedded in the pendant.
"Wow, this is beautiful. Where did you get something like this?" Aster said condescendingly dropping Baulder's hand and snatching the necklace from Reven.
"I made it for you. I mined the silver from Cidhna mine, and smelted it myself. It's also enchanted so that it never loses its shine. The emerald was hard to come by but I got my hands on one eventually. I chose it to match your eyes. Here, I'll help you put it on," he offered his hand and she gently placed the necklace into his palm and turned around lifting her thick black hair. He slung the delicate silver chain around her neck and clasped it together. She turned around and played with the pendant in hand.
"It's beautiful, Reven. I give you my thanks. Come Baulder, let's go."
"Wait, I have something to say to you Aster."
"No more of this silly jester," Baulder said.
"Baulder. We mustn't be rude. After all it is my duty as the emperor's third cousin to listen to the common folk," Aster said patting Baulder on the shoulder and turning back to Reven.
"Aster, ever since the day I first saw you in the market I've been in love with you," he stated.
"Here we go again," Baulder complained, rolling his eyes and leaning against the carved stone wall.
"From the moment I saw your onyx hair blowing in the afternoon breeze and your eyes shining green as the auroras lighting the night sky I knew that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Won't you take me as your husband, Aster? We could marry on the morrow. I can go to the temple of Mara in Riften and make all the arrangements. All you have to do is say the word my love, and I'll do it. I would do anything for you."
"Oh, Reven. You are a sweetheart, but I've told you I'm to be married to Baulder. Our families have arranged this since our birth and it would be a dishonor to go against their wishes. You understand don't you? We have a duty."
"This is known to me. But I could offer your family more than this idiot ever could. I would climb the tallest mountains for you, dive into the deepest caves, face the most horrific of beasts and bring you their pelts. With your love I could do anything," he said dropping down to one knee in the muddy road.
"Please don't do this, Reven. I've told you all this a hundred times. You're not going to change my mind just by giving me fancy jewelry. I'm sorry."
"What would it take to change your mind?" He asked grabbing her hand in his.
She thought for a moment, trying to figure out some way to get rid of him.
"I'll tell you what," Baulder spoke up, pushing himself off the wall and moving to stand directly in between him and Aster, "go to Understone Keep and speak to Quintus Tertinius about the expedition they've been screaming about in the town square for the last week. If you go with them and bring me back a great treasure I will renounce my claim on her hand and you two will be free to marry."
"Baulder," Aster said looking at him with a disgusted look on her face.
"It is done. I'll bring you treasure the likes of which you've never seen before," he stood up out of the mud and launched himself into a sprint towards Understone Keep.
"Baulder, why would you go and say something like that. You know he's going to get himself killed out there, and I'm not just some prize that can be traded off for gold and jewels!"
"Oh please, it was just to get him off our backs for a little while. There's no chance they're going to take him. For one thing they already left this morning. Besides, I'll talk to my uncle tonight and if he keeps bothering us I can have him thrown into Cidhna mine until we are wed."
"Your uncle would do that? For us?" she asked, running her hand along his chest.
"Anything for you, my love. The Silver-Blood family runs this city, and one day I will sit the mournful throne and we will rule this city with a silver fist. Together."
Across the city, Reven bounded up the stone steps to the Understone Keep, a massive Dwarven ruin, converted into a castle of sorts for the Jarl. The current Jarl was Lygrun the Slayer who murdered the previous Jarl and taken the thrown for himself with little opposition. He has served as Jarl for nearly fifty years now and was legitimized when emperor Titus Mede took the imperial throne in 4e29.
"Halt, what business do you have before approaching the mournful throne?" one of the city guards asked him.
"I wish to speak with Quintus Tertinius about joining the expedition," he replied, out of breath.
"Are you stupid, elf? They left this morning, just before dawn."
"Wait, are you serious? I have to be on that expedition!" he shouted at the guard.
"Then you'd better get walking, elf. I suppose you could catch them if you hurry. They're headed to Whiterun hold, so take the southern road through Karth River Canyon and you should meet them along the way."
"Thank you!" he turned on his heels and sprinted through the great stone city, pushing people out of the way to get outside the gates and on the road as quickly as possible. He made his way through the crowded town square and through the large dwarven metal doors of the city gate and onto the cobbled courtyard outside.
"How much for a horse?" he shouted running up to the stable master who was tending to a sleek black horse, that belonged to some noble no doubt.
"Oh um- I can do that brown one over there for 1000 Septims," the nord sputtered caught off guard by the approaching Altmer. Reven considered it for a moment. Spending his entire savings on a horse was foolish but without it he wouldn't reach the expedition party in time and thus never winning Aster's love.
"I'll take it," he replied, tossing his sack of gold to the stable-master, "keep the change."
He hopped up onto the horse and kicked his heels into her sides sending the horse into a gallop over the hill, and on his way.
They rode almost the entire day without encountering anyone. As he exited the canyon into the less mountainous plains of Whiterun hold, he came across a small campsite off the side of the road in a thicket of trees surrounded by large rocks to mostly block the view of the camp. This must be them, he thought.
"Halt. State your business," a harsh raspy voice said from above. Reven looked up at the top of one of the rocks, now dark in the setting sun, and an imperial man in heavy legate armor stood watch, holding an imperial bow that he had nocked and pointed right at Reven's head.
"Whoa, there. I'm just here to join your expedition, sir. You must be Quintus Tertinius, correct?" Reven asked holding his hands above his head in a nonthreatening manor.
"Join the expedition? This team is full enough. Be on your way," he replied not dropping his bow.
"I'm sorry I cannot do that you see, I made a promise that I would join this expedition. So I humbly ask you to allow me to join your ranks, sir."
"We have no more gold to pay you with," another voice said emerging from the darkness of the trees. It was a large Argonian with bright orange feathers sticking out of his horned head with more piercings than he could count.
"I'm in no need of gold, I just ask that I be allowed to take home a small sliver of the treasure you seek," Reven said.
"The treasure we seek isn't up for grabs. Now I've said it one too many times and this is your last warning. Get lost or I'm putting this arrow through your eye-socket," Quintus pulled the bowstring back slightly.
"Every good adventuring party needs a bard to recount the tale, huh? Allow me to join and I will sing your song for the rest of my years. You will all be mighty heroes talked about for centuries in inns and taverns across Tamriel," Reven said.
"Aye, right the elf is!" came a booming voice as a large figure came bursting out of one of the other tents. An impossibly tall and muscular nord woman with slick blond hair and piercing blue eyes leaned herself against a giant ax and uncorked a bottle of mead. She took one huge swig and tossed Reven the bottle, "have a drink, elf. Come and sit by my fire!"
"Gretur, we cannot let him come with us. We're too many already."
"Nonsense! As the elf said, every good adventure needs a bard to recount the tale. Come and sit with us Quintus."
"Fine, but like I said. We have no gold to pay you. Hitch your horse over the hill off the road so bandits don't steal it. I'm staying on my watch."
"Don't mind him. He's still got the usurpers boot shoved up his ass," Gretur whispered, punching him in the shoulder.
"The usurper? You- you mean the emperor? He worked for the emperor of Tamriel?" Reven said glancing back at the aged man who stood his post with astounding alertness for a man of his advanced age.
"Yes. Helped him take the throne from Emperor Thules. He served as general of the entire legion at one point. Helped him put many oathbreakers on the elder council." Gretur said taking a swig. As they walked into the center of camp Reven noticed the rest of the party gathered around a small circular pit that had been built out of broken logs. There was a Khajiit woman in aged yellow priests robes and a Dunmer man.
"You are a bard you say? Perhaps this one can sign us a lullaby to send us off to sleep," the Khajiit said holding her hands over the fire.
"Do you know Six are the Walking Ways? Probably not," the Dunmer man in plainclothes spoke up.
"Do you know Ragnar the Red, elf?" Gretur asked plopping down onto the cut logs that surrounded the fire.
"I know a few songs, yes. Hello, I'm Reven. And who are all of you?"
"This ones name is Ri'vari. Pleasure to meet you," said the Khajiit.
"Falam of house Redoran," the dark elf said going to offer a hand but the chains on his wrists jangled and he retracted them, embarrassed.
"The murderer should keep his hands to himself, should he not?" Ri'vari said glaring at Falam with disgust.
"Now now you two," Gretur said before chugging the rest of her mead.
"Pleasure to meet you all. What about the Argonian over there," Reven said motioning to the trees where the argonian sat slumped against a tree sharpening a dagger.
"That's Sees-Many-Shadows. He keeps to himself. I'd watch your back around him though. A sneaky lizard, that one," Gretur said, "rumor has it he was raised as an assassin in Black Marsh, but got caught trying to kill some nobleman in Markarth."
"Noted. What about you?" Reven asked her.
"My past is uh- complicated," she said avoiding his gaze, "how about one of those songs, bard."
"Um- alright them," Reven said.
"Khajiit has a request," Ri'vari said.
"I'm all ears," Reven said sitting on a log next to Gretur.
"You can say that again," Greter said glancing at his pointed ears, and laughing.
"Does this one know Sweet Moon-Sugar Cane?"
"Let me see, does anyone have a lute?" Reven asked.
"What do we look like a traveling band?" Falam said poking the fire with a stick.
"Alright, just a vocal performance then," he said thinking hard trying to remember the words.
"He's not even a bard, I knew it," Falam said smugly.
Reven closed his eyes and sang the words softly:
The wood elves have their rotmeth brew
Made of meat and bile
The lizards eat their bugs and twigs
And everything so vile
But those of us who walk the sands
Know life's greatest pleasure
Is strictly sweet, a tasty treat
It's moon sugar that we treasure
Fields drenched in moonlight
Dewed with summer rain
Brilliant green and growing tall
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Gifted by the moons
As they wax and wane
Fill our bowls and fill our souls
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
We sprinkle it on fine steak
Glistening so sweetly
We smear it on our salmon
And gobble it up completely
We bake it into our sweet treats
Don't you want a taste?
So eat it quick and wash it down
Because nothing shall go to waste
Fields drenched in moonlight
Dewed with summer rain
Brilliant green and growing tall
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Gifted by the moons
As they wax and wane
Fill our bowls and fill our souls
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
Sweet moon-sugar cane!
As he finished up the song, the others around the fire clapped loudly.
"Now that was a song, elf!" Gretur said clapping him on the back sloshing him with mead.
"Can you all keep it down out here?" Quintus said entering the camp center still holding his bow in hand. "Gretur you take the watch. The rest of you off to bed. Now."
"We're not your soldiers. Don't make commands to me," Falam said.
"You're my soldiers until this mission is complete. Might I remind you that you volunteered for this?" He responded.
"Come now, grey-skin. Let's be getting off to bed before Quintus puts an arrow through your back," Gretur said turning him and pushing him towards his shabby tent covered in strange tarps with the symbol of a beetle on them. They each made their way into their separate tents as Reven unrolled the bedroll attached to his horse and quickly fell asleep on the cold hard ground thinking of his reunion with Aster in the coming days. He was going to be a hero. Her hero.