Hello there readers! I haven't been getting any feedback on this story, so If you could, please leave a review. I would really appreciate it. This is turning out to be really fun to write, I hop you're enjoying it as much as I am. Here's chapter 3, read away!
The small Bar and Inn inside of Riften's large walls was always a calm yet lively place. Music wafted all around the guests as they drank, danced, or laughed there nights and days away. The food was delicious and cheap, even those who dwelled down in the sewers would often show up for some food and a good time. The occasional fight would keep action in the air. Brave souls who had often had one to many to drink took swings at each other. Crowds would gather and bet, and the winner would be showered in free drinks and praise. Even the loser would show good spirit, laughing at his own defeat and patting his opponent on the back. It was a friendly place, one where even the deepest of feuds could be looked over for even one day, and the darkest of troubles could be drank or danced away. The mornings were often very calm and quiet. Those who stayed the night would indulge in a good breakfast before being on there way to face whatever the day brought them. The afternoons were filled with those pouring in for lunch, and it was often the most calm time of day. Nights were the most active. Everyone went drinking, eating, making noise and having such a good time. Not a single solemn face could be found once the drinks started pouring and the music started play, but it was like hell when you couldn't participate in the fun. Catro laid in the bed, staring hatefully at the wooden ceiling above her. She had drifted in and out of consciousness the last few days, passing out for either hours or minutes. It was a sudden thing that she couldn't control, one minute she was sitting soundly, reading or eating, and a few seconds later she was passed out. Keerava had assured her it was from the loss of blood she had suffered, that she should take it easy for a few days. Catro had defiantly believed her, it was almost the death of her. She couldn't get the image out of her head of the way she looked on the long journey here. Her hand and side were both caked in blood that trickled down her sides, leaving a wide and blotched trail behind her in the snow. There was an abundance of pain and blood at the same time, and she was certain she was going to die, but she didn't. She had made it, surviving all the odds, and she had done it alone. The though terrified her as it clung to the back of her mind. She sat up, testing her shoulder and only getting a hint of pain from it and her side. She opened and closed her hand a few times, testing its strength. The one thing that did comfort her was the fact that she was healing, although it seemed to be dragging on for an eternity. Her feet hit the cold wooden floor as she stood gently. Standing caused her side to burn with pain, causing her to clutch the bandaged wound desperately, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself all the way up. Keerava told her the gore filled details at her request. The slashes had both been close to fatal, the wound on her side was much deeper, but the slash on her shoulder was much closer to her neck, causing it to bleed more severely and rapidly. She should have died out there, alone in the cold snow with the bright stars glaring down on her. With barely the strength to stand she walked, but now as she sat in the small room, surrounded by the wooden walls and sounds of the bar, she was questioning every aspect of her life. Present and past.
She grabbed hold of the bed post, the pain began to turn dull as she hovered. Taking a timid step forward, she let go of the post, supporting the bandages with her hand and moving slowly toward the doorframe. Keerava had argued with her on and off about how dangerous it was to be moving again so fast, urging her friend to relax and let the wounds heal. Catro had argued right back, stating that the sooner she could walk again, the better. She tripped slightly, grabbing the door frame for support. This all seemed stupid to her. She had tried for many hours to devise a plan on what to do now. Strategy after countless strategy had passed itself through her mind, and every single one had lost her seal of approval. She hadn't made plans with Arien past Riften, they never planned very far ahead. She had her journal, full of various quests to be completed. They would sit around the fire for hours at night, talking, planning, laughing. Things had been looking up in both of there lives, and now that was all crushed to dirt under her feet. She had no family to confide in, no plan on where to go next. All she had was her bag, her swords, and the open, lonely road. Keerava was a wonderful friend, there was no mistaking that, but she didn't want to stay at the bar forever. The long hallway stretched out to both sides, one of them led to the stairs and the other rounded the corner to a small, two chair table. She put her hand on the wall, using it to support her weight as she moved towards the end that held the table. She took small steps in an effort to control her balance, one hand planted firmly to the wall and the other timidly outstretched to the side. Every time she tripped up fresh pain seared through her side, causing her to tighten her jaw. She grabbed the edge of the table, gently lowering herself into the wooden chair with a dull thud. The commotion downstairs was beginning to pick up again. Angrily she let out a long sigh, longing to join in the laughter and drink but held back by her injuries. A sudden thumping on the stairs caused her to look up. Keerava walked up the old stairs, a smile still planted firmly on her face and a cup in her hand. She walked over to Catro, handing her the mug. Catro smiled at her, reaching out and greatly taking it. "Good morning Catro, fixed that sleep schedule of yours yet?" They both laughed softly. Catro sipped the contents of the cup, enjoying the quite of the upstairs before the afternoon rush arrived. Keerava sat down in the vacant chair, letting out a yawn. She looked across the table at her friend, a serious look on her face. "How are you doing?" Catro stopped drinking and lowered her cup. She looked across the room, going quite for a small amount of time. "Do you want an honest answer?" She said, turning to her.
Keerava nodded, urging her to continue. Catro let out a large sigh, she set the cup down on the table. Her friend had been curious the last few days, about her heath, how she was dealing with everything, and her plans for what to do next. "I can't stay here long, I still have training to do, places I must travel to. It's by my choice and not by my choice at the same time. My blood keeps me sealed to a destiny I cannot escape." She shook her head. "I've been struggling with this for the past few days and I think I finally figured it out Keerava. I don't want to be alone, I can't even deal with the thought of it. But how am I ever supposed to trust anyone? I don't think I could take that." She looked up across the table, seeing Keerava stare back at her, a gentle smile on her face and a caring look gleaming in her eyes. "You know, its not very often you find people you can trust. There few and far between, and when you find them you want to hold to them close to you. it's the hardest thing to gain and the easiest thing to lose. Life isn't at all about what happens to you Catro, its about how you handle what happens." She stood. patting her friend gently on the shoulder. "You can come downstairs if your ready, I won't hold you back. Just promise me you'll be careful?" Catro nodded gratefully back at her. She turned to leave, then stopped, spinning around with a grin on her face. "I almost forgot, I have a little present for you!" She scampered into the small room that was her own. Catro blinked, very confused by what it could be, and also thinking over every word spoken to her. Keerava always had the best advice, she had zero doubts about that, but there was a bitter sweet truth about the whole ordeal. Trust was the hardest thing in the world to gain, not only that, but it was the easiest thing to lose. Keerava appeared again, something folded neatly in her hands. She extended her arms out to Catro who took the item, gasping at the sudden realization of what was in her arms. Her armor was neatly folded up. The rips on the shoulder and side were not only repaired, but enforced with thicker leather. The whole set was cleaned, and looked better then it ever had before. "I…I'm not sure what to say." She stammered out. Keerava laughed. "No thanks needed dear, I do need to return to work though. Go ahead and put it on, let me know how everything feels and fits." She walked down the stairs with a wave leaving Catro to stare in amazement at her patched armor. She stood with a small amount of effort, making her way back to the room. She pulled the chest piece over her head, grunting with the effort it took. She rhythmically fastened each buckle, feeling the extra padding and finding it quite comfortable. She slipped her boots on, buckling each of them tightly. The last piece was her arm braces. She slipped them on with ease, feeling the extra padding and noticing that it still fit perfectly. A sudden memory popped into her mind of when she first received it. She had equipped steel armor, but upon joining the thieves guild and receiving her armor, it had become the only thing she wanted to wear. She smiled to herself as the thought past. It had been quite a long time ago, but it felt so recent. He gaze fixed itself over to the stairs, and she walked slowly toward them. She grabbed the wooden railing, slowly making her way down the steps. The lunch rush had died down significantly, leaving only a few that were finishing a drink or their food. Keerava smiled at her from behind the counter, handing the man sitting at the bar his plate. Catro glanced around, there were five people left in all. Keerava and Talen made up two of them, tending to the bar in the late afternoon. Another was the man at the bar, she realized after a minute that it was the Riften blacksmith, sitting down to enjoy his lunch. Another was leaned up against the wall beside the bar, drinking quietly. And then there was one more man sitting close to the far door, kicking back in a chair. Something clicked in her mind, and she suddenly realized why he looked familiar. It was the same guy that had been sitting in the bar when she first woke up. He was sitting almost the exact same way, except he wasn't drinking anything, just rocking in the chair, obviously enjoying himself. She walked over to the first available table, gently sitting down with a sigh. She leaned her head back onto the wall, holding her side where a large amount of pain was still present. Keerava walked over and handed her a bottle of some sort. She reached out and took it, smiling at her friend. She looked down to realize that it was a small bottle of mead. She tipped it slightly in a quick thanks and then brought the chilled bottle to her lips.
The blacksmith finished his food quite fast, he paid the tab and turned around to head out the door. As he walked, he glanced over to see her sitting in the chair. A smile crossed his face in an instant, and he slowed his pace. "Catro! When did you blow into town?" His voice was very deep and loud, but she smiled up at him. Balimund was a good man, they had helped each other out in the past and we're both very grateful to each other for it. "Few days ago, how's business been?" She asked. He laughed at that. "Oh the usual, I still have a forge, I still have steel for sale." He chuckled. "Well I best get back to the old thing, much work to do and the day is still young, see you around!" He called, closing the door behind him. She shook her head with a smile, glancing over to see what Keerava was up to. The bar was quiet and empty. Talen was sweeping quietly, Keerava was wiping a few cups, and neither of the other men had moved. Catro was enjoying the quite, but all good things end eventually. She started to feel dizzy and tired. Standing with great effort, she shook her head, heading back up the stairs. Keerava had noticed her sudden mood change from across the bar. She set the cup down and started walking towards the stairs. Catro reached the top, dragging herself into her room. She meant to sit down on the bed, but instead, she collapsed.
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About two hours past when she woke up again. She sat up suddenly, panting as sweat poured down her face as she grabbed the sheets. Keerava was right beside her bed, startled when she jumped awake so suddenly. "Catro are you alright? What happened?" she asked, a concerned look planted on her face. She was still panting, but shaking it off she looked over at her. "I don't know, I collapsed." She gritted her teeth. "I think I just had the worst nightmare imaginable." She looked out into the hallway, hating herself for collapsing again. "I need to get out of this place, but at the same time I have no where to go." She punched the wall angrily. Keerava looked over at her for awhile. "Catro, it's not your fault you know." She said suddenly. Catro glanced back over at her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You didn't kill him, if anything, he killed himself. Let it go Catro, it's not your fault." She froze up. That was exactly what had been traveling through her mind, what her dream had revolved around. She let out a sigh. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll try." Keerava smiled "That's what I like to hear." Catro sat up a bit more on the bed, a question suddenly flickering in her mind. "Can I ask you something?" she said. "What is it?" She messed with a buckle on her jacket. "I keep seeing the same person every time I attempt to go downstairs, and he was here when I first showed up. Maybe you can tell me who he is." She said. Did he have a room here or was he after her? It wasn't an uncommon thing to have people after her. She had countless thugs and bandits sent after her before, and it left her paranoid of anyone she saw more then twice in a number of days. Keerava laughed a bit, obviously she knew why her friend was paranoid. "I don't think he's after you dear, that's just Marcurio. He's been here for about a month." She let out a sigh of relief. "What exactly is he doing here?" She asked, still curious about details. Keerava's laughter died down and ended with a light chuckle. "He's a mage from Cyrodil, I think he's looking for work. And he better find a job soon with all the ale he keeps drinking." They both laughed a bit. There was a bit of silence when Keerava suddenly looked over to her. "He's up for mercenary work you know, I'm sure he wouldn't mind traveling a bit." Catro knew exactly where this conversation was headed. "I already told you that it will take me awhile before I trust anyone again." Her friend sat back in her chair, thinking. "Very true." she said "But as I also recall, your leaving soon, and I know you don't want to go alone." Catro let out a long sigh, she was right about that. She looked up at the ceiling, knowing that her friend was absolutely right. didn't want to be alone. "Fine. But if I get killed, its your fault and you own me a drink for getting me into another mess." Keerava chuckled. "Deal."
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The next morning was much better for everyone. The bar was having great business as usual, Catro felt better then the previous days, and the temperature was near perfect. Catro once again made her way down the stairs, hoping onto a barstool for breakfast. The mage in question was sitting at a table, his feet on the ground for once. Catro grabbed an apple out of the bowl, scarfing it down and reaching for another. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days and the hunger had just now caught up to her. After the fourth was gone, she asked Keerava to pass her some ale. She sipped the contents, then set down the bottle and stretched her arms. It was early in the morning, and those that ate breakfast regularly had not yet shown up. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still sitting there, pushing his cup around the table. She looked at him for about a minute, then getting up, she walked over to the table he was seated at. He looked over at her. "You're a mage correct?" she asked. He smirked. "Indeed I am, who's asking?" "I seem to be in need of a companion." She said. "Up for the challenge?" He smirked again, wider this time "For the right price." She had to crack at smile at that, he was proving to be very entertaining. "Alright then, how much are you asking?" He picked up the cup, sipping mead out of it. "Five hundred septum's, do we have ourselves a deal?" She reached into one of the larger pockets on her coat, handing him a bag of coins witch he greatly accepted. "Onward then, when do we leave?" She buckled the pocket closed again. "At least let me finish my drink first, then we can go." He laughed softly as she walked back over to the bar, grabbing the bottle up and emptying the last bit into her mouth. "Alright Keerava how much do I owe you?" She said, reaching into another pocket. "Keep your money to yourself Catro, your alright and that's all that matters to me." She sighed. "Alright, I'll go grab my stuff. And Keerava, thank you." She nodded at her friend, and then turned to the stairs.
The first thing she grabbed were her two ebony swords. She fastened them tightly to her each of her sides, testing that they could easily be sheathed and removed. She grabbed her bag, pulling the straps over each of her shoulders. Keerava had given her a new bed roll that was fastened securely to the top. She secured her amulet of Talos around her neck, then taking one last glance at the room, she left. She reached the end of the stairs, turning to see her new companion hand some coins to Keerava. She smiled and counted up the coins, ensuring that he was free to go. He turned to see her walking over, they were almost the same height, he was just slightly taller. "Well then, lead the way." he said, crossing his arms. She turned, motioning for him to follow out the door. Riften was a busy little town. People went about there business, working stands in the marketplace or heading out to the docks for there job at the fishery. Catro walked over to Balimund's forge, getting a few glances from people she knew or people that knew who she was. Balimund looked up as she approached, smiling brightly. "What brings you to my forge then?" he said, setting down the pair of iron tongs he was using. She smiled back at him. "Do you still have those daggers from awhile back?" She asked. He put hi hand on his chin in thought. "Ah yes, those little beauties. Let me go grab em." he said, walking inside his house. He appeared a few seconds later with a box in his hands. In it sat several daggers, each unique in its own way. She looked over her shoulder to Marcurio. "Alright, pick one out." He blinked, confused at first, but deciding to go along with it. There was a nice selection, including ebony, orchish, glass, steel, and iron. He picked up the glass one, not liking the way it felt, and placing it back. He looked for a second, then picked up the ebony. It seemed to fit right tin his hand, and the weight was perfect. "Ebony works." He said. Catro reached into her pocket, pulling out the septum's to pay for it. Balimund called out a thank you as they walked away. "Why a dagger?" he said as they continued for the main gate. "Just incase you ever find yourself in need of one. You never know what's going to happened. Catro pushed the gate open, heading out onto the main road. When it came to the split, she headed the opposite way that she had traveled. "Huh, looks like traces of blood in the snow." He remarked as they walked. Catro gritted her teeth. "That would be from me." she snarled out. "Damn, what did you get into?" He said, chuckling with a lighthearted tone. She smirked. He didn't inquire what happened, why she was bleeding. He didn't question her at all, he made a joke. "So if you don't mind me asking, where are we headed?" He asked. He was walking directly beside her as they continued along. "I'm not entirely sure." she admitted. "We could head towards Windhelm, I have business there, and then to Whiterun." He was quite for a few seconds. "Sounds good to me." He finally said. "I haven't been to most of Skyrim, I could use a tour." She thought for a moment about what he had just said. "Are you familiar with the war?" She asked, waiting patiently for his answer. She knew he was from Cyrodil, so there was a good chance he sided with the Imperials. But even though she was born in Cyrodil herself, the Stormcloaks were who she fought, bled, and would die for. He finally spoke up. "Well I lived in Cyrodil ever since I was a kid, but honestly I've always held a certain amount of hatred for the Empire. Moved to Skyrim to get as far away from that place as possible." That was defiantly the answer she was looking for. "You and me both." They continued on in silence. Catro was enjoying it, not minding the occasional question he asked, and grateful to be out on the road again. "Cave up ahead." He said suddenly. She had let her mind wander and hadn't seen the opening. "Feel like exploring it?" He said, optimism floating in his voice. She would have brushed it off, but he was proving to become very convincing, and incredibly optimistic about everything. She glanced over at the opening, weighing her options on what to do. "Not just yet." She said finally. "Lets find one that looks like its worth checking out." He shrugged. "Fine with me, as long as its not a mine." She looked over in his direction, smirking at what he just said. "Do we have a problem with mines?" She said. He rolled his eyes at her comment and she started laughing.
The road they took was long and winded. Birds and bugs fluttered through the air and rays of sun shown down brightly through the trees. Catro lived for the beauty that traveling brought her. She longed to see large roaring waterfalls crashing down into rocks, forests littered with wildlife and flowers, and beautiful sunsets behind breathtakingly tall mountains. She liked to pay attention to detail, studying each flower and insect carefully as she walked past it. The morning was crisp and fresh, the day itself was young and ripe for ambition. The pathway split suddenly, forking off in two directions. She looked to the wooden post that gave directions to each hold. One pointed towards Riften, back the way they had come, and the two pointed towards Windhelm and Winterhold. She turned, looking down the long roads, debating witch way to go. Either way had potential, proving new challenges for her, new battles to be fought, and gold to be found. A voice beside her suddenly snapped her out of thought. "Winterhold huh." Marcurio muttered. "Isn't that where the mage college is?" She tensed up at that. "Yes. It is, I'd rather not go there if you don't mind." She started down the road before he could say anything else. He ran slightly to catch up to her. "Why not?" He asked. It was a simple question, one she would have gladly answered a few day before. Now it did nothing but pester her, bringing up memories she wanted to repress. She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it." she said, looking down at the ground as they continued. It became quiet for awhile, the only sound being that of the forest around them. "I'm sorry." He muttered suddenly. It didn't seem very heartfelt, but it was sincere. She looked over at him, and let out a sigh. "Winterhold use to bring me a lot of good memories, and now the same memories that use to make me smile rip me apart from the inside out." She looked up at the road. "I guess I owe you an explanation." "Only if you ant to tell me, I won't force it out of you." He said. "Though I would like to know." She smiled slightly at that, noticing how curious he was. "Aright, you should know that you're not the first follower I've had." She said, beginning the story. "For about a year I traveled with someone else. If I've ever had a best friend in my life, It was Arien. We did everything together, whether it was trouble, or helping people. We fought bears and bandits, giants, everything imaginable." She stopped talking for a minute. "He was my best friend, and I met him in Winterhold." There was silence again. She could tell that he was thinking about everything she had just said. Then he asked the question she was waiting for. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to him." Catro opened her mouth to speak when a sudden sound caught her ears. She slowed significantly, causing him to do the same. The round in front of them slanted upwards, and then rounded a large rock that jutted out slightly onto the path. The two crept closer, listening closely. Catro's hand instinctively went to her sword, ready for a fight if necessary. The closer they crept, the more clearly the sound can through. Two voices carried from behind the boulder. Both were very deep, giving them the obvious conclusion that they were men. One spoke with a gravely tone, the others voice was slightly higher pitched and flowed smoother through the air. As they neared the rock, she began to make out the conversation between.
The man with the gravely voice spoke first, he sounded much like an Orc, and there was a certain confidence in his voice that left her uneasy. "Do you think he boss will be upset we didn't bring anyone back alive this time?" He said. There was dead silence for about a minute before the other spoke up. " I wouldn't concern yourself with such things, the last three caravans we raided brought back a slew of supplies and people, I doubt that one little death will do more then damper his mood." The closer they crept the more the words came threw. The sound of a bottle popping open filled Catro's ears as she continued to listen, Marcurio doing the same beside her. Catro put her hand up, a signal for him to stop as she peered around the rock. He nodded and readied a spell to be safe. Catro moved slowly around the rock, careful not to be seen. Almost a year now she had been part of the thieves guild, and the skills she had learned had proved most useful in combat. She stuck to the shadow the large boulder cast, the two finally coming into sight. She easily assed that they were bandits. Each wore fur armor, long steel sword strapped to each of there hips. Her theory about one of the men came true.
The scene before her was quite a lot to behold. A very tall Orc stood closest to her spot, he kicked a metal cup toward the overturned wagon with a dull clang, his arms crossed in what appeared to be boredom. The wooden cart that lay overturned to the left side of the road was accompanied by a dead horse and the corpse of a man. The other man was not as tall but had the muscle power to compensate for it. He was chugging a bottle of mead no to far from the first man. They both appeared to be pretty young, but it was difficult to tell how experienced in battle they were. Catro closed her eyes briefly, drawing in a deep breath then steadily let it out as her eyes snapped back open. The first man walked with a sense of insecurity, his arms now dropped at his sides, his posture calm yet tense. His eyes wandered off in the distance, giving him away as someone very inexperienced in battle. She fixed her eyes onto the second man, taking in each of his features. His body languages varied severely, each aspect completely different. He had not dropped his guard in the least bit, yet careless drank the remaining alcohol and throwing the bottle to the ground. Wiping his face, he rested his hands on the sword sheaths at his sides. He was far more advanced then his Orc friend, his skill aged through years and battles won. Catro snuck backwards, careful still not to draw attention to the area. She turned to her new follower, whispering a plan for them to carry out. "The Orc is obviously the weaker of the two, I doubt he's seen much battle in his life. Our main concern is his friend, I suggest we put him down before they know we're here." She draw the bow off her back and a long ebony arrow. "Why not take them both out at once." He suggested. "I can take the Orc out, you aim for the other man." She considered his plan, then nodded. They crept back to the spot where she had previously been spying. The two bandits hadn't moved much, still pondering over the kill they had just made. Catro drew her arrow out, aiming for the man farther away from them as Marcurio conjured a small orb of fire in between his hands. She lined the arrow up for his chest, breathing out slowly and pulling back and the bowstring. It made a slight stretching noise as she closed one of her eyes. Then, she released the string. The arrow flew swiftly through the air, piercing the bandits heart and protruding through the other side. He dropped down to his knees, then fell to the ground dead. Before the Orc could react, a blast of fire hit him directly in the back, knocking him a few feet forward and slamming his limp body hard into the cold ground. The stood fully from the hiding spot. Catro walked over to the man she had taken out, pushing him over with her foot. She glanced over to see Marcurio doing the same. She walked over to the cart, staring at its contents. The man that had been slain by the two bandits was obviously a traveling farmer. The cart that lay overturned held spilled crates of fresh produce, a few hoes and brooms, and a small crate of clothes. He obviously didn't have much to his name, but she did find a small purse of gold under the clothing. She sighed, shaking her head at all the madness in Skyrim these days. She walked toward the body of the Orc Marcurio was still standing by. "Shall we continue?" she asked, fastening her bow back onto he back. He dusted his hands off, smiling optimistically. "Lets." and then they were off again.