Chapter 4: Days at Riverwood

Metal had clashed with metal while Ahmes looked onward from his chair, awaiting Dorthe to finish her next creation. Alvor had given Ahmes some of his old clothes to wear, since Ahmes' had been covered in blood and dirt. It had been several days since Ahmes awoke from his long sleep, and he had been recovering at a very fast pace. When Ahmes had asked for advice on what he should do next, Alvor recommended the young man to go out and tell the Jarl of Whiterun, Jarl Frothar son of Balgruuf, of his experience with the war, and see what to do then. When Ahmes said that he would go and venture to Whiterun, Dorthe said she would go to the forge and make Ahmes something to help him in his travels. Dorthe had been famous throughout Riverwood to be one of the best blacksmith for miles, maybe even the best of all Skyrim. She took after her father, who made a living as a blacksmith, and she was a natural at it.

When she told Ahmes about her next masterpiece would be for him, he was honored by the gesture and initially didn't know what to say. He had asked her if he needed to pay any coin for it, but she had declined, stating that they were friends now, and friends did this for each other. Ahmes had spent most of his time learning the names and faces of those at Riverwood, especially those who had helped him recover in the first place.

The day after Ahmes had awoke from his sleep, he had met Frodnar. At first Ahmes thought Frodnar was a decent young man who seemed to be around the same age as Dorthe, but he soon became very irritating when Dorthe had helped feed Ahmes in bed rest. They had butted heads ever since. Ahmes was no fool, he could tell that Frodnar was jealous of Ahmes, and was in love with Dorthe. Everyone in the village except Dorthe could see it, and Ahmes had told Frodnar in private that he had no intention of stealing Dorthe away from him. Frodnar seemed to have warmed up to Ahmes a bit when he told him that, but even still, he decided to irritate Ahmes any time he had gotten any attention from Dorthe. Frodnar's dog, Stump, seemed to like Ahmes instantly and would spend many days simply lying aside Ahmes' chair, which would irritate Frodnar to no end. Stump was a very old dog, and many of the people of Riverwood were surprised the dog was still around, wasn't often a dog would live as long as Stump did.

For the past couple of days, hunting for the small village had been difficult. Every time people would go out hunting for food for their families, a frost troll would get in the way and kill the animal before hunters could get a good shot at it. Eventually, a hunting party had formed in order to kill the troll stealing all of their game. However, every time they would go after it, it would always run away or fight back; injuring many who dare attack it. In the distance, hunters would sit in a small circle, strategizing a way to kill the troll and get food for their families. Frodnar and Dorthe would sometimes partake in these small meetings and hunts, but in their free time, they would continue their daily activities. Like Dorthe making Ahmes her next masterpiece and Frodnar playing with the children. Ahmes had been watching the two out of boredom and eventually decided to try moving around on his own. Now that his wounds have healed, moving around had become much easier. Ahmes had only exerted himself when he tried to run or swing a sword to the point where he felt excruciating pain.

Ahmes had walked to Dorthe's forge and tried to get a peek at what exactly she had in store for him.

"You know, you shouldn't be walking around while recovering. Especially when it involves trying to ruin your surprise," she said while not taking her eyes off of her work. Ahmes made a small smile as he watched Dorthe hammer away at the metal.

"Well, there is really not much to do around here except trying to recover faster, which ends up with me getting hurt, or talking to you. I think I would rather go with the idea of not hurting myself for no good reason," he laughed as Dorthe made a small smile, still focusing on her work.

"Why don't you go help my mother wash the clothes, or help father and the hunters find a way to kill that stupid frost troll?" she asked. Ahmes shrugged before turning around and lean on a nearby wooden pillar.

"Don't know, I guess I'm not really a fan of cleaning or finding ways to kill something," he said half-jokingly. He saw Frodnar playing with the children of the village and smiled as he grew a new found respect for the young man. Ahmes had always had a soft spot for kids, but he was always too shy to ever talk to almost anyone back home. He was always afraid someone had told the children how much of an introvert he was, and was always afraid that the children would call him a weirdo or a creep.

"Why not? I bet the men here would love to hear what your brilliant strategic mind had to say," Dorthe said sarcastically.

"Y'know, I am pretty smart, I just can't use a bow for my life, and I'm not that great with a sword either," Ahmes said as he turned back to Dorthe who had been wiping sweat off her brow to take a break. She walked past Ahmes and grabbed hold of his wrist. He was beginning to protest and whine as she dragged him across the village and plopped him down next to the men planning to take down the troll.

"Well, if you are so smart, tell them what you think they should do," she said in a joking tone, condemning Ahmes to humiliation. The rest of the villagers men stared at Ahmes as Ahmes tried to fight off the initial embarrassment of all eyes on him. He looked at the ground before him, and noticed the lines of dirt they had made. He couldn't tell what exactly they have been planning based on the lines, but he could tell that they have been getting nowhere based on the look of frustration on their faces. Ahmes began to think while the others stared at him. Multiple ideas began to sprout in Ahmes' mind, and he took one more quick look at the drawings in the dirt before talking.

"Well, frost trolls are typically found in snowy areas in the north. Which is a little strange in this part of Skyrim, and they are usually found in caves. The nearest cave is only a few miles, so it is most likely to be in one of those, but it's hard to figure out which exact cave is the right one. Our best bet in luring it is to give it some bait. Some venison might do the trick, but chances are that it might not work. They have long muscular arms with claw tipped fingers, so getting to it at close range is a bad idea, unless we corner it and all attack it at once. But that is too risky. Although they are strong, they aren't relatively fast, so keeping our distance is our best bet. Their major weakness seems to be fire, so the best option is to use fire magic to take it out. But there aren't any mages around, so we can probably tip out arrows in fire, and that might work. I would probably hit it in its middle eye first, since the eyes will disorient it and the middle eye is the easiest to hit. From there I would try to surround it and fire flame tipped arrows to finish it off," he said leaving himself completely winded after his speech. The rest of the group stared at him as they thought about what he said. Many of their faces grew smiles as they realized that Ahmes' plan might work. They all started to laugh and come into agreement that that was the best course of action to attempt next. Alvor had slung his arm over Ahmes' shoulders and then proceeded to pat the boy in the back with a lot of force. Ahmes' face had turned red from the attention he was receiving and was glad that he could help. Many of the men suggested Ahmes go with them to hunt the frost troll, but Dorthe argued that Ahmes was still recovering from his injuries. Alvor told her that Ahmes had been walking around just fine for the past few days, and that was enough to go hunting. At first, Ahmes had been reluctant to go with them, but he eventually gave in and Alvor was happy to know Ahmes was coming along.

Later that evening, Ahmes and the men of the village had made way into the outskirts around Riverwood. Dorthe decided to stay by Ahmes since she thought he would need someone to look out for him. One of the men eventually spotted the troll, and everyone pulled out their bows. Ahmes became nervous since he knew he was terrible at firing a bow and would most likely miss and embarrass himself. Frodnar had been acclaimed to be the best archer in Riverwood, so it was decided that he would be the one to make the first shot and shoot at the frost troll's middle eye. Seconds felt like hours as the frost troll feasted on a dear that had been wandering around Skyrim at the wrong place and the wrong time. Frodnar slowly cocked his arrow back and started to breathe slowly, trying to center and focus his shot. The beast had finally looked up from a small noise the bow made from being pulled back and Frodnar fired. The beast's head immediately pulled back from the pain of its middle eye being pierced by the arrow as more men fired their flame tipped arrows at the frost troll. The troll began to get angry and punch the ground wildly. It then ran at a random direction in a wild frenzy, hoping it would escape. Unfortunately, that direction just so happened to be where Ahmes was standing. The beast sprinted forward, not caring what it ran over in its way. Many of the hunters decided to jump out of the way, so they wouldn't get mulled by the beast. Dorthe had moved to the left alongside the hunters, but Ahmes could only stand in fear as the beast charged at him. Memories of the black knight rushed into his mind as the image of the troll slowly morphed into the black monster. Although it had been a normal day in the eyes of everyone around him, Ahmes could only see the rain and the lightning that illuminated the area from that day in his fear induced state.

The troll had gotten closer and closer, and Ahmes couldn't move a muscle as his mind's eye showed him the image of a black sword high in the air, ready to kill the last survivor of the prior battle. Dorthe had noticed Ahmes not moving and called out to him, but Ahmes couldn't register what was going on. Rage began to consume him as the memories of the fallen rushed into his mind. The image of the woman whose head was crushed stared at him as he grit his teeth and unsheathed a rusty sword from his hip. He charged forward blindly at the troll, rusty sword in hand, ignoring the pain that echoed throughout his body. The troll raised its large claws, ready to kill Ahmes in a moment's notice. The black knight's arms were above his head in Ahmes' mind as he charged forward and stabbed at the image in front of him. I will not lose to you again! I am going to kill you! I am going to kill you! He chanted in his head over and over as he stabbed at the troll over and over into its chest. After the tenth stab, the troll fell over and lay dead at Ahmes' feet. The men got over their initial shock quickly and started to cheer in victory. Dorthe remained quiet as she watched Ahmes topple over and fall on his back. She immediately rushed over to him and laid him up against her lap. The men continued to cheer as Dorthe stared down at Ahmes in fear. Tears fell down his face as the fear and anger that consumed him left, leaving only the sadness to remain. He couldn't see Dorthe looking down at him; he could only see the black knight's blood gaze through the eyes of its helm. He wanted to scream, but he had lost his voice. Soon, unconsciousness overtook him once again.

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