Skyrim: Legend of the Dovahkiin
Apprehension 2
As the commotion continued to unfold, some of Whiterun's residents had begun to trickle out of their homes. Most stayed inside, opening their windows to peer out and watch from the safety of their home. Others stood in their doorways, still at a safe distance but close enough to see most of the action. The guards had finally gotten their act together and decided to come out and make their presence known. They stood at the bottom of the stairway that lead to the mead hall at the ready, effectively cutting off any escape should any of the brigands try to scurry away. The guards had their weapons drawn but only as a last resort. Groups of warriors from across Tamriel would seek out the Companions in the hopes of joining them, or in other cases, to challenge them. More often than not those same warriors would return to their homes humbled, and if they were lucky, whole.
The bandits looked taken aback by the sight of the young warrior who had been reveled to be the Companions new Harbinger, their new leader.
"This is a joke! This Can't be him!" one of the outlaws cried.
"No way a whelp like him could have outmatched the men at our hold!"
"This little man is the Harbinger of the Companions!? He's just a boy!"
The bandit leader stood silent, wondering if his men were right in assuming the young warrior in front of them was the one behind responsible for the assault on their camp. The boy was a Nord, and stood at least five foot nine. His body was lean but still impressively muscled, unlike the large, hulking frame of most Nords. His hair was long and slightly wavy with a light brown color that went down to about the length of his shoulders. He had deep blue eyes and slightly thick stubble of facial hair, but his most distinctive feature was the faint scar on the left side of his face. Two short twin katanas rested on his left hip. The last thing the chief noticed about the young warrior was the steel armor he sported. While it had been repaired and was in excellent condition, it was hard not to notice the wear and tear it sported. Whoever this boy was, he had clearly seen many battles, despite his youthful appearance.
"So," the bandit leader began as he stepped forward. "You are the one responsible for the slaughter of my men?" The Harbinger stood silent, staring into the eyes of the brigand before he answered.
"I didn't slaughter anyone, I defended myself."
"Do not take me for a fool!" the brigand growled. "You murdered my men not in self defense, but for your own sick amusement! I will make sure you suffer for your transgressions against me and my comrades!"
The young Harbinger was at a loss for words, this was the first time a group of outlaws had ever returned looking for revenge. He had been in many difficult situations before, most of them matters of life and death, but never anything this… ironic. The bandits of Skyrim were known for being short tempered and merciless in battle; a toxic combination. The Harbinger had seen and experienced first hand how tenacious and brutal bandits were to their victims, seen what lengths they would go to get what they desired. He had seen them kill countless innocent people for no reason other than the purpose of sport, watched them torture their victims until they died a slow, miserable death. Yet, here they stood. Twelve criminals, all of them demanding "justice" for the deaths of their comrades, the irony was almost amusing.
"Tell me something, friend." The Harbinger started. "How do you think the families of all the people you've murdered feel at this very moment?"
The brigand raised an eyebrow, why did he care what happened to those people? "I could care less about them."
"Yet here you stand, angry, clamoring for 'justice'. Justice of men whom if given the chance, would slaughter every man, woman and child in the city if they could. Men who have no remorse for the crimes they commit against innocent people. Men who's purpose in life is to cause as much misery and suffering as possible. You're just another hypocrite, one of many in this world. Leave this city, or forfeit your lives."
The bandit leaders face had turned a bright shade of red, anger blasting through every vein in his body. "You little bastard!" the brigand suddenly charged, his giant glass sword raised above his head.
"So be it." the young Nord said as he drew his katanas.
The bandit swung his blade downward, putting all of his might behind the attack. Expecting the attack, the Harbinger raised his left blade, blocked the attack and countered with an upward slash with his free blade, connecting with his opponents forehead. The brigand stumbled backward, blood streaming from his wound, but the young leader of the Companions was far from finished. Taking advantage of his enemy's distraction, the young Warrior delivered a flurry of slashes at his opponent, not meant to kill, but to draw blood, to weaken and tire.
"Son of a-" The bandit leader charged yet again, this time swinging horizontally. The Companion leader ducked the blow, rolled behind the brigand and delivered a brutal slash across the man's back. Howling in pain, the criminal fell on one knee. "Damn you!"
"Get him!" The Harbinger turned to see the rest of the brigands charging him.
He frowned "Aela."
Her name had barley passed his lips as a steel arrow flew forward and lodged itself between the eyes of an unfortunate grunt. The man hit the floor with a loud thud, a pool of blood quickly forming.
Njada shouted a string of curses as she charged forward, the other Companions close behind her.
The two groups of warriors charged each other, the sounds of metal meeting metal soon followed. Farkas dashed forward and drove his gigantic blade through an unfortunate marauder. Then lifting the man in the air, slammed him back into the pavement, hard. Sidestepping a sword thrust, Njada cocked back her arm and slammed her shield into the mans throat and finished the attack by driving her blade through his skull. Using her speed to her advantage, Aela maneuvered herself between two of the grunts and planted a skyforge dagger in both of their temples, they convulsed before hitting the floor in a heap. In an impressive show of skill, Ria sidestepped an enemy attack and buried her sword in the mans neck, nearly decapitating him. She yanked her blade out and kicked him away, his body hitting the floor with a wet thud soon after. The residents who were watching let out shocked gasps and muffled yelps. They had only ever heard about the violence the Companions were capable of dealing, seeing it was something different.
The bandit chief, now back on his feet, looked on in shock and disbelief as the last of his men was killed.
"All of your men are dead," The Harbinger said as he approached the bandit leader, his katanas now soaked in liquid crimson. "You're the only one left."
The outlaw shot a dark glare at the young warrior, his eyes filled with pure hatred. "This battle is far from over!" the bandit leader took a fighting stance. "I still have some fight left!"
"Which I will rectify presently."
The young warrior dashed forward, attacking the outlaw with a skillful flurry of slashes and thrusts. The chief tried desperately to parry the onslaught of attacks, but the sheer power of the blows proved to much for him to handle. The Harbinger's attacks eventually began to crisscross the mans body, blood erupting from each of the strikes as they tore the flesh from his bones. The bandit dropped his weapon and fell to his knees covered in his own blood. The Harbinger stood over his defeated foe, his Icey blue eyes boring into his enemy's.
"If you have any last words, now's the time."
The outlaw looked up at the young Nord, fear in his eyes, "Please… spare me," he pleaded. "Have mercy."
"Mercy," The Harbinger repeated, a small mirthless chuckle escaping his throat. "Such an insolent phrase."
With one fluid motion, the young warrior swung his blades in a separating motion and opened the bandit's neck, his blood spewing up like a geyser. The man's head hung off of of a tiny sliver of flesh before his body slumped to the floor in a bloody heap. The Harbinger stared at the bandit's corpse a moment before sheathing his blades and turned to the other Companions.
"A good fight, everyone." he said. "You fought well, all of you."
The other Companions laughed and raised their weapons. "As if we'd let some milk drinkers like them, get the best of us!" Stonearm waving her hand.
"Weaklings or not, they still made it into the city uncontested," Vilkas pointed out. "I don't presume to tell the guards how to do their jobs, but if a bunch of criminals can just waltz in the city with no issues then Whiterun won't last long is a great force decides to attack."
"The fault is mine," a guardsman said, approaching the warriors. "They said they had urgent business with the Harbinger. I just thought—"
"It's no trouble," the young Nord said, waving him off. "You're only doing your job. Though next time you might wanna give them a more thorough check."
The guardsman gave a small bow. "Thank you Harbinger, we'll take care of the bodies," he turned to the now growing crowd of onlookers. "And the residents."
The Harbinger gave the guard a nod then turned back to the Companions. "Come on. I'm sure you all are craving a mug of mead after a good fight."
Torvar gave a belligerent whoop before darting back to Jorrvasker's doors. "Damn straight we are!"
The Companions all gave hearty laughs as they filed back inside the mead hall.
A/N: Yeah man, chapter two is UP! First off I would like to say thanks to every one who liked and follow the story, and the one person who commented(you know who you are.) Seconded, the reason for not revealing the Dragonborns name yet is simple: I'm saving it for the final chapter of the second arc, but trust me…you'll be both surprised and impressed with the name I've given him. On a completely different note, Obama got re-elected! Hell yeah! I was a nervous wreck last night what with the elections n all, and I was barley able to think straight, It may show in the writing. Anyway, leave your comments and the helpful criticism, its all appreciated. Thanks, Zero out.