Author Note: Hi Everyone. Again, I apologize for the long delay in my updates. School and work took over again :) Thanks for reading!
After double helping of Tilma's horker pie for lunch, Farkas returned to his own room to relax.
He sat in the sturdy wooden chair across from his bed and picked up his lute. Farkas frowned in concentration as his large fingers struggled to form chords on the narrow fretboard. They really need to make these things bigger, he thought. He had just plucked out a few halting chords of Ragnar the Red, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Farkas set the lute down and answered, "Come on in!"
The door swung open and it was Lily. "Hope I'm not interrupting you," She said.
"Not at all," Farkas answered in his deep baritone. "I take it you're here to talk about the job at Dustman's Cairn."
"I am," she said. Her brown eyes widened as she got a closer look at his room. "By Sanguine's bottle of infinite booze…you have your own bar in your room? Some people have all the luck," She said with a tinge of jealousy.
Farkas grinned at that. "Yeah, how bout a drink? Got a keg of the latest Honningbrew Gold right here."
Lily took a seat at one of the barstools while Farkas filled a couple of frothy mugs.
"So, Skjor says this is to be my Testing. If I pass then I become a Companion?" she asked.
"Aye," Farkas agreed, handing her a mug. "We go on this mission and I watch you. Just fight well and be honorable. You'll do fine."
"I'll do my best," Lily agreed, raising her mug and taking a swig. "So, Skjor said the place is crawling with Draugr. What's our plan? Turn undead scrolls? Fire? Holy water?" Her eyes were bright with excitement.
Farkas smiled and shook his head. "We don't bother with that fancy stuff. Hit em enough times with Skyforge steel and the undead will be dead again."
"Oh, alright," Lily said, a little deflated. "Skjor also said we'll face someone called The Silver Hand. Who's he?" In her mind, she pictured an enemy boss who had replaced his hand with a shiny metal one.
Farkas smirked at the question. "Um…Skjor must not have had time to explain stuff. The Silver Hand are a bunch of mercenaries. They're enemies of the Companions and we've been fighting em as long as I can remember. They have a thing for silver weapons and that's where they get the name."
Farkas and Lily discussed strategy, going over the types of fighters usually found in the Silver Hand's ranks. Since Lily was an archer and her close combat skills left much to be desired, she agreed to stay behind Farkas and fire at range.
"Meet me an hour after sunrise tomorrow in the dining hall. We'll grab some of Tilma's griddle cakes and then head out," Farkas confirmed.
"I'll be ready," Lily agreed. "One last thing, do you have any books on the Draugr? It might help me prepare if I read about them."
"Books?" Farkas asked in surprise. "I'm not much into reading. My brother might have something, or Kodlak might."
"I'll check with Kodlak," Lily said.
Kodlak sat at his desk surrounded by small mountains of books, scrolls and letters. He was so close to finding the cure for their curse that he could feel it in his very soul. Kodlak reached out for another book and winced at the pain in his swollen joints. His hand shook like a leaf as he brought the tome to rest in front of him. Werewolves were thought to be immune from disease. And yet…Kodlak now suffered from a severe case of rockjoint that no healer could cure. Once he had been the strongest of Companions. Now a small child could easily best him. His lips twisted in a bitter smile at this truth. Perhaps Hircine knew he sought the cure to the god's "blessing' and had cursed him with this affliction. The daedric gods could be petty and the rockjoint had appeared right about the time Kodlak started his research. His troubled reverie was broken by a rap at the door.
"Yes?" Kodlak called out.
Lily tentatively poked her head into the room.
"Pardon me Harbinger. I'm preparing for my Testing tomorrow at Dustman's Cairn. I was wondering if you had any books I could borrow about the Draugr?"
Kodlak smiled and wrinkles creased at the corners of his kind blue eyes. He nodded in approval. "Indeed I do. On that shelf over there, you may take the blue book on the left."
Lily took the volume and smiled in thanks.
Kodlak noticed it when Lily's gaze dropped to the red, swollen joints of his hands. He knew she meant no harm by it, and swallowed his embarrassment at the look of surprise and sympathy that was reflected in her eyes.
Kodlak said, "I only wish more of our warriors would prepare their minds as well as their muscle before battle. Good luck young one."
Kodlak watched her leave with a wry smile. Vilkas probably thought he was going senile when he insisted the girl be given the chance to join the Companions. If he told him the real reason behind his decision, the boy might truly think he was losing his mind. For Kodlak had dreamt of a warrior who had slain the great wolf spirit with a flaming arrow, and he was certain the archer in his dream was Lily.
Back in the "whelp's quarters" that Lily shared with the lower ranking Companions, she tossed the Draugr book on her bed and rummaged through her backpacks. Her brows creased in worry after an inventory of her arrows revealed that she was almost out. Elrindir at the Drunken Huntsman was the best supplier of fletching supplies in town. Since Lily punched his brother Anoriath in the marketplace, he was now unlikely to welcome her in his shop. She grit her teeth in frustration. Why did Vilkas have to stick me with that gods forsaken job? Lily turned her attention to arrow poisoning, taking out dried ingredients and a mortar and pestle and setting them on the bedside table. A poisoned arrow could slow or paralyze a pursuer without killing them, allowing a thief to escape and rob another day. Some recipes could disrupt a mage's spell, preventing death from being fried by a fireball or lightning bolt.
She heard the door open and looked up, expecting Ria or one of the other roommates. She was surprised to see Vilkas barge through the doorway and walk right up to her.
Vilkas' eyes narrowed in suspicion as he spotted the deathbell petals and mortar and pestle on her bedside table. He practically growled at her, "I don't know what you're up to or why you're really here, but if my brother comes to any harm on this mission, you will regret the day you set your foot in Jorrvaskr whelp."
"Harm your brother? What in the-" Lily sputtered.
"You know what I mean!" Vilkas continued. "No tricks. No treachery. If anything happens, by Ysmir I will hunt you down," He threatened.
Lily rolled her eyes at the ridiculous accusation. "Your brother is nearly five times my size. You really think he could come to harm from me? I'd laugh at the very idea…if it weren't so gods damned sweet that you're that protective of him," Lily blurted.
The word "sweet" drew an even darker expression from Vilkas and he stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
Lily sighed into the empty room and resumed the work on her poisons.
I moment later, the door burst open again. This time it was Athis.
"Crikey, Vilkas nearly knocked me over in the hallway. Who put a bee up his britches?" The Dunmer complained.
Lily watched as Athis tossed a worn leather pack onto his bed and proceeded to stuff clothes and supplies into it. The dark elf had angular features and the red eyes common to his people. His dark grey skin was decorated by swirls of white warpaint in a Nordic design. He kept his long auburn hair bound back in a topknot. The straps of his leather armor clung to the lean, muscular frame of a swordsman.
"Are you going out on a job Athis?" Lily asked.
The Dunmer paused from packing his bag. "I am. Tomorrow I head out to Dawnstar. Seems there's some kind of curse on the townsfolk and they can't sleep. I intend to solve the mystery. I'm looking forward to taking a break from you lot, no offense intended.
Athis took a closer look at what Lily was doing. "Is that poison you're making?" He asked.
"It is," She answered, suddenly defensive. "Poisoning my arrows will provide me an advantage when I'm up against a stronger warrior or a mage. Gods know I need the extra help."
To her surprise, Athis looked more intrigued than disgusted. "Will that work on blades?" He asked.
"It will," Lily agreed. She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that go against some Companion rule of honor or something? You guys seem to frown on this kind of thing."
Athis sighed. "I really wish my shield-siblings would keep an open mind. How can we expect to win against the Silver Hand if we don't try new strategies? Tradition is well and good, but if we're too set in our ways we won't survive into the next Era…let alone the next decade."
Athis fixed Lily with a serious expression. "I've got a proposal to make. I was there the day Vilkas first tested your sword arm. Your tactics show promise but your swordplay is sloppy. I've seen a drunken beggar with a fork who had more skill than you."
"At the very least, I'd beat the fork guy!" Lily protested with an outraged expression.
Before Lily could turn a deeper shade of red, Athis continued, "Let me train you. I know shortblades very well, both one and two handed. I've been a swordsman for nearly 80 years. In exchange you could show me everything you know of poisons."
Lily gave him a shrewd look and nodded in agreement. "That's a very generous deal. I accept. Nocturnal's teats Athis! 80 years? Just how old are you?"
The dark elf shrugged. "126 on my last nameday. What can I say? Being a Mer has its merits." He grinned. "We'll start just as soon as we've returned from our jobs."
The morning couldn't come soon enough for Lily. She read the book "Amongst the Draugr" hoping to gain battle knowledge for the mission. Instead, this tome was a creepy account of some fool mage who'd spent months in a tomb watching the shuffling, shambling corpses as they served their dead Dragon Priest. The book left Lily too unnerved to get much sleep. Bleary-eyed, she slung her pack over her shoulder and headed up to the main hall.
Lily thanked Tilma for the delicious griddle cakes and wrapped up a few to go. Farkas was nowhere to be seen in the dining hall. Lily cast a quick glance at the shards of Wuuthrad on the wall above the stair before heading out.
When Lily opened the front doors of Jorrvaskr she had to squint against the bright light of the morning. As her vision adjusted to the sunlight, she was confronted by the sight of some packs on the stone stairs and Vilkas. He stood there with his arms crossed and a blue-eyed glare just for her.
"Where's Farkas?" Lily asked.
Vilkas smiled and it sent a shiver of fear into her heart. "Farkas is on his way to Markarth by now. He and I traded jobs. He's not going on this mission. You're coming with me whelp."
Author Note #2: Despite the fact that warewolves are supposed to have increased resistance to disease, it says on elderscrolls dot wikia dot com that Kodlak contracted Rot a year before the Dovakiin arrives at Jorrvaskr. For my story I changed it to rockjoint so that he's sound of mind but physically ailing.