Finally, Gorr enters the scene! I left as much of the Interesting NPCs mod's dialogue the same as possible, because I wanted to share the mod's goodness. Enjoy!
Also, school is over so more chapters incoming. I've re-read this story a couple of times and decided I need to end it soon. There'll probably be a follow-up.
9.
Lio awoke to an intense pain in her legs and arms. Her shoulder blades were numb and cold. She raised her head off the ground. It was light upstairs already. Hadvar's muffled snores sounded in the cellar. Half of Lio's body was on the stone floor, making her already aching muscles cold and stiff.
Quiet sounds came from upstairs and a scent of beef stew made her stomach growl. She got up and found a blue linen dress with a leathery corset on a nearby cupboard and realized that Sigrid must have put it there. It seemed too large for her, but she put it on anyway and tied the large corset as tightly together as possible. Lio then went upstairs, finding Sigrid making food by the fireplace.
"Good day," Sigrid said with a happy smile. Lio rubbed her eyes and tied her hair into two buns again.
"Day?" she asked and fell on the closest chair.
"Yes. I thought it would be good to let you two sleep more. It's already midday. I'll get you some stew right away," Sigrid said and grabbed a bowl from a cupboard. She handed Lio the bowl after filling it and Lio thanked her.
"I see, even that dress is too large for you. I thought that you would like a change of clothes if you were going to repair your armour. That dress is something I've kept for Dorthe from my younger days, but you're such a small person. Nothing in this house will fit you," Sigrid mused and Lio nodded while slurping her stew.
"Alvor is waiting for you outside at the forge. Do wake Hadvar up before you leave, please. I can finally go out to buy supplies now." Sigrid almost skipped to a basket, took it with her and stepped out of the front door. The bright lights outside made Lio wince.
After finishing her meal, Lio made her way back to Hadvar. His snores were muffled by the pelts on him and he scratched himself in his sleep. Lio nudged him until his eyes opened, told him to go upstairs, grabbed her armour and hurried out of the house.
The heavy rhythmic sound of hammer on hot steel sounded through the village. The old woman and young man from yesterday were at the same house again, chatting. A young boy and a dog ran past Alvor's house, the boy talking to the beast. A blonde wood elf with a bow strapped to his back walked past too, glaring at the other young man.
"Faendal," the young man said, his voice bitter and his eyes narrow.
"Sven," the wood elf replied with a small nod, voice as remorseless as Sven's. The old lady behind Sven was oblivious to it all and stared up at the skies.
"How are you doing, Hilde?" Faendal asked the lady with a smile.
"Very good. Did you know I saw a dragon yesterday?" she asked, a clever smirk on her wrinkly face. Faendal fell into an easy conversation with her; all the while Sven never turned his hateful eyes from them.
"Well there," a raspy voice sounded from Lio's right and she looked at the forge, where Alvor held a hammer and a red, scorched piece of steel. He motioned for Lio to come forward. Slowly she stepped to him, while he hammered the steel with sparks flying. She kept her dress from the fire while she watched his handiwork, mesmerized. Alvor moved the hammer with ease, as if it was feather-light. The metal was bending and changing with each hit, and soon Lio recognized the shape of a thin long sword.
"Did you just come to watch, or shall we learn something today?" he asked amicably. She snapped out of her trance and stuttered.
"I'd like to repair my armour," she said and he nodded, giving finishing touches to the blade. The sword was ready. Already Alvor was cooling the metal in water, steam rising and a strong hiss emanating. After he placed the blade on a rack, he turned to Lio, wiping his brow with his sooty hands.
"Give it here," Alvor said and Lio did as told. Alvor examined the piece, looking inside and outside, studying the bent and broken parts. Soon his face lit up with excitement.
They spent almost half of the day talking about leather and iron, although Alvor had said that Lio's armour was actually made from ebony, leather and a quality hide. He, however, didn't possess any ebony, as the metal was rare and expensive, so all he could teach Lio was how to patch holes with leather and hide, how to sew together heavy and thick pieces that normally would be impossible to pierce without a very sharp sword. The trick was in using the right chemical ingredients to soften the material before. He also showed Lio the basics to using the tanning rack, grindstone, forge and workbench, to shaping blades and sword hilts, to forging helmets, gauntlets and chest pieces. He also taught her how to fix metal bents and holes with simple iron pieces.
By the end of her lessons, Lio couldn't almost feel her muscles. She got her expensive armour back, now almost fixed, changed into it and thanked Alvor for all he had done for her. She also got her two swords repaired and sold her axe and other miscellaneous things.
"I do encourage you to leave for Whiterun as soon as you can. If you need more rest, then of course you're welcome to stay at our house. Or if you would like to sleep in a bed and if you have the gold, then you can go to the local inn called the Sleeping Giant Inn. Delphine and Orgnar run it and I know them, so I could make sure that you would be treated in the best way possible," Alvor said, turning to grab an iron ingot and hammer.
"I think a room of my own would be best right now. Do say a word for me; a soft bed would definitely help with my wounds. I want to be in the best shape when I'm going to travel," she said and after they exchanged nods, she turned to leave the forge.
A blonde long-haired Nord woman left a house with a sign declaring "Sleeping Giant Inn" with a smile on her face. She noticed Lio soon enough and stopped her mid-step.
"Hello there, stranger!" she greeted and wiped her hands in the sleeves of her green dress.
"I saw you forging with Alvor there. Are you a traveller, perhaps?"
Lio thought for a second before deciding on what to say.
"My name is Lio. I come here from High Rock."
The woman nodded slowly at her, measuring her from head to toe.
"I'm Gerdur, the owner of the local mill. Are you looking for a job?" she asked.
"I have urgent business in Whiterun, but after I'm done there I'll be searching for employment, true. Do you have anything to offer me?"
"It depends on what your qualities are. I have enough workers at the mill. Alvor could use an apprentice, though, and from what I could tell you did fine at blacksmithing. Lucan over in the Riverwood Trader says thieves broke into his store. Strange, he says they hardly took anything. You could ask him if he needs help."
Lio nodded slowly, already planning her day ahead. Gerdur also told Lio to go to the Riverwood Trader in case she needed supplies. Lio thanked her and both of them went in their own directions. Dorthe was sitting on the bank of the river and Lio thought it better not to talk to her. She saw the mill Gerdur had been talking about before. Faendal and some other men were working at the mill.
A man sporting heavy armour covered in a yellow cloth and bound by belts, a helmet and a shield with the painted image of a horse on it walked past Lio. She couldn't tell where he was looking, but the heavy feeling of being watched made her sure it was the man. These armoured men were the local guards, who strolled through Riverwood all day.
Lio entered Riverwood Trader. A brown-haired woman was standing and was with narrowed eyes at a man behind the counter. He seemed frustrated by her and neither of the two noticed Lio entering. The cupboards behind the man were filled with potions and food and Lio felt her stomach grumble. A warm hearth was burning in the middle of the room.
"Well, one of us has to do something!" the woman said, tones of annoyance in her voice.
"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" he yelled back, obviously tired of whatever they were discussing.
"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it!" she wouldn't let go and pressed on. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms.
"We are done talking about this." Noticing Lio just then, he continued, "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that."
The other woman turned on her heel and almost stomped to a nearby chair.
"I don't know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open. I'm Lucan Valerius, owner of the place. Feel free to shop," he said casually, leaning against the counter.
"Did something happen?" Lio asked curiously.
"Yes, we did have a bit of a… break-in. But we still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw."
A light blinked in Lio's head.
"I could help you get it back."
"You could? I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back." Lio nodded and the girl on the chair livened up.
Lio could barely hide her cringe. This wasn't going according to plan. She hadn't meant to do this. Cursing her big mouth, a thought occurred to her. It couldn't be too difficult to steal something back. Lio was small and unnoticeable. A gold ornament has a hefty price and bringing back something so valuable would mean a big reward. Maybe a new plan was good after all.
"Now if you're going to get those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, north-" he said, but Lio nodded already.
"I know where it is."
"Oh. That settles that then."
Lucan and the girl were talking about something. She was obviously pleased with the way things had developed. Lio did her shopping quickly. She took potions, a journal, pencil and food and placed them on the counter before Lucan, oblivious to the two's chat. She took out most of the loot from recent travels that Alvor hadn't wanted. The girl was answering Lucan, and most Lio cared to make out of it was "guide". Lio was lucky, she had found a volunteer companion. Lucan wanted to argue, but finally seemed to agree with the girl's decision. She stood up, her posture proud and Lucan rolled his eyes. Lio and Lucan made their trades and she followed the girl out of the building.
Hastily scribbling down her quest into her new journal, Lio almost bumped into the girl. Any negotiation about the start of the quest on Lio's part failed – the girl was already buzzing with excitement. Lio had no option but to cooperate.
"We have to go through town and across the bridge to get to Bleak Falls Barrow," the girl said, almost skipping down the road. For a moment Lio considered sneaking away while the girl wasn't looking, but before Lio could attempt anything, the girl had already turned around and was waving for her to move along. She pointed toward the mountain that Hadvar and Lio had seen before.
"You can see it from here, that mountain just over the buildings." Lio nodded, trying to conjure up an enthusiastic smile too, but the girl's glee and eagerness was beginning to get annoying. Lio's face just twisted and she gave up, focusing her worsening mood on preparing instead.
"Those thieves must be mad, hiding out there. Those old crypts are filled with nothing but traps, trolls, and who knows what else!" She occasionally turned to look if Lio was still following, not giving her a moment to escape. Lio kept up appearances as best as she could, trying to make it seem as if what the girl had said didn't matter at all.
"I'm Camilla Valerius, by the way."
"Lio."
Camilla looked back, a confused smile on her face.
"Just Lio?"
"Yes."
"Very well, Lio." Camilla smiled again. "I wonder why they only stole Lucan's golden claw. I mean, we have plenty of things in the shop that are worth just as much coin. Lucan found the claw about a year after he opened the store. He never quite explained where he got it. He's a tricky one."
Lio stayed quiet. They had walked past the inn and were near a stone bridge that crossed the river Lio had washed herself in before.
"This is the bridge out of town. The path up the mountain to the northwest leads to Bleak Falls Barrow. I guess I should get back to my brother. He'll throw a fit if I take too long," Camilla giggled. "Such a child."
"How much further is it?" Lio asked, ignoring most of Camilla's banter.
"Well, it's a winding road up the mountain just ahead. You'll know you're in the right place once you spot the old watchtower. Once you get to the tower, head north. Bleak Falls Barrow should be just around the corner further up."
Camilla stared at Lio expectantly. For a moment Lio just stood there, but then she nodded and turned to cross the bridge, forcing a smile as she went.
"Good luck. Lucan and I will be waiting for you back in the shop," Camilla shouted after her and turned back to the road to Riverwood. Once she was out of sight, Lio sat on the edge of the bridge.
Sighing, she thought things over. Trolls and traps had never crossed Lio's mind. She wasn't really ready to face anything. An option would have been to return to town and explain why, that she had come to find someone to fight by her side. But Lio had nothing to offer for help and thus, that option was pointless.
"Stupid freedom of speech," Lio mumbled, pushed herself up and crossed the bridge.
"A promise is not to be broken" was a thought that Lio had held dear since she was a kid. Also, being the daughter of a nobleman had its quirks, one of them being honour. She didn't want to be indebted to Lucan. She'd rather die a fool in some catacomb than go back and be branded a coward and self-indulgent. If she was going to die, it was going to be out of her own sheer stupidity. Her resolve made, Lio made her way towards the mountain on the other side of the river.
Someone was sitting on a stump next to the road. Lio came to a full stop in front of the man, struck by his looks and the atmosphere.
He was dark-skinned, a Redguard. He was looking down at his iron Warhammer, picking at it nonchalantly. His dark hair was shaved on the sides of his head and the top was dreadlocked and smoothed over his head. His face was strongly structured, his cheekbones protruding. He had a tied goatee, but unlike with many other men, it only made him more handsome. Lines of red warpaint were painted from his forehead down to his cheeks and a small line on his lower lip. His hazel eyes looked up to Lio and a small, crooked smile bent his war paint.
"You in need of a companion, friend? If so, then you're in luck," he exclaimed, his arms wide. Shudders ran over Lio's skin. His voice was deep and husky like thunder.
"I reckon I've killed more men then there are minutes in a day," he said, his voice slow and arrogant. Lio blinked at him, her legs refusing to cooperate and let her escape.
"You've killed more than 1440 men?" she asked, trying to sound sceptical, but instead her voice came out as small squeaks.
"That few, huh? At this rate, I guess I better change it to seconds then." He laughed, the sound reminding Lio a far-away thunderstorm. "But who's counting?"
The bear-like man inspected his weapon again. Lio smirked.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Gorr. And what might be yours, adventurer?"
"I wouldn't exactly brand myself an adventurer. I'm Lio."
"Well met, Lio!" Gorr thundered.
"How have you managed to kill so many men?" Lio asked and he laughed again, causing another wave of shudders run over Lio's skin.
"It's all in the hips, friend. Killing a bandit is like making love to a maiden. It only takes a second, and there's no shortage of blood," he answered, a glint in his eyes.
Lio was speechless for a moment. She swallowed bile. Why wasn't she running away already?
Gorr's gaze was on her, inspecting and almost challenging, and a faint proud smile remained on his lips. Lio coughed weakly and conjured a clever smile to her lips.
"Perhaps… you need a smaller weapon?" she asked. She had never said something so dirty before.
He laughed once again. "Then I wouldn't kill as many bandits, or bed so many maidens."
But being dirty did kind of feel exciting.
"Where did you learn to fight?"
"I got my start as a pit dog in the Imperial City Arena. Worked my way up to Gladiator before I got bored and quit. They say the best techniques are left by the survivors. With me gone, I guess everyone will have something to offer."
Lio hadn't even noticed how she'd sat down, now cross-legged, before Gorr.
"Gladiator, huh? Right," she answered sceptically, but she was impressed. Without even seeing his skills, Lio already knew this man was the strongest she had ever met. Not even Hadvar, the bulky imperial, seemed to come close to Gorr's level. The way Gorr presented himself and the tone of his voice were all too genuine and Lio found herself taking in his each word with curiosity.
"Impressive, right? And I would've been Grand Champion too, if not for the burden." Before Lio could answer, he already continued. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. Fair maidens in my bed, and good stew in my belly. Some burden. Well, that ain't what I'm talking about."
"Do explain."
"Well, friend," at the last word, a slight smile passed Lio's lips, "it all comes down to who your opponent is. I'm square with killing men, but with a Grand Champion, ain't no more men to fight. So they bring in beasts. Minotaurs and things. Don't like it one bit. If a man chooses to enter the arena, it's what you call his prerogative. A beast ain't got no say in the matter. I kill horkers for food, and bears for hides. I don't kill no animal for sport."
Lio nodded slowly. She had never heard much of the arena before and another curious question already slipped past her lips.
"Why did you become one? An Arena fighter, I mean."
"Why not? You need to get out more, friend. The Arena is the most celebrated spectacle in all of Tamriel. To fight and die in the Arena is a great honour. To fight and live, well, do that and you carve your name amongst the Gods."
Lio tried to imagine a fight in the arena with people cheering around the ring at the spilled blood.
"Why…" she paused and gathered herself. "Why is it so popular?"
"'Cause it's fair. It's about the only place you can truly measure a man's worth. If I asked the folks here who has the best mead in Skyrim, one person might say Black-Briar mead. Another might vouch for Honningbrew. If I asked for the best alchemist, bard, or scribe, or which inn was warmest, and which wench the sweetest, there'd be many replies, but no answer. Ah, but if I asked you who was the strongest, who could best any man in the pit, there'd be no debate. You'd know by who was left standing. Only in the Arena can a man be judged by his own merits."
His point was solid, but the fun factor of seeing a life and death fight still seemed unreasonable. For a man of his calibre he sure did seem to like philosophizing a lot.
"But… What did the people find in it all? The appetite for bloodsport couldn't have been high after the war."
"You're mistaken. It couldn't have been higher. The people were hungry, not for blood, but for entertainment. The Arena, friend, was a welcome diversion from the throes of war. Because there's no death in the Arena. Not for them." A frown appeared on his tanned face, one that gave reason to think there was more to this man than the eye can see.
"If you're a spectator, ain't nothing that happens in that pit real. It's all a game," he said, ending his thought solemnly.
"How is it? How is it fighting in the Arena?" Lio asked, her voice almost a whisper.
"The words won't do it justice, not mine, anyway. But you can imagine, can't you? The moment when you stand behind the gate, in a cold sweat. The air's so thick you can taste the blood. The crowd is buzzing. The flies are buzzing. Then they wheel up the iron. You hear this... roar. So loud it rumbles in your chest. You don't know who they cheer for. What they cheer for. Victory, glory, or death." His last words fell as he looked away, his deep voice fading and his face unreadable.
In the next moment he lightened up, inhaling, and continued: "But that's the beauty of the Arena, ain't it? Nothing's ever written, nothing's ever known. The Grand Champion can win a hundred matches and name a skeever as his next opponent, and the audience will still hold their breath. Unlike the stories, it's always a surprise when the hero winds. 'Cause in the Arena, the hero's allowed to fail."
"You did just say that you don't kill animals for sport," Lio said. Gorr laughed.
"That I did, and I stay true to my word. I never named any animals as my opponent. You ought to travel to Cyrodiil sometime, friend, and test your valour."
"Interesting idea. I've ever only killed spiders and wolves, but I'm sure I'd manage," she replied with irony and he smirked.
"I thought for sure that you were the fighter type. There's something about you," he said, his one eye narrowing as he measured her up and down.
"Brilliant armour, right?" Lio answered and Gorr laughed his thunder laugh again.
"True enough, friend. You don't get to see ebony armour just anywhere." He had put his Warhammer down against the stump and stretched his arms with a grin.
"What brought you to Skyrim?" she continued her array of questions, not giving him a break.
"Horkers, my friend, the horkers! I can't get enough of a good bowl of horker stew. Fresh garlic, tomatoes, a sprinkle of lavender…" Lio shuddered.
"It sounds delicious except for the horker part." She hadn't even thought of their meat before. It couldn't possibly be compared to tender duck or lamb. Nothing good could come from horkers.
"You jest, but there's nothing like good horker stew. It ain't like the loaf, which is a bit chewy and marinated in that ocean flavour. But you put that in a stew, toss in a little garlic, and all that ocean brine melts into pure flavour."
The ocean didn't remind Lio of anything beautiful either. She tried to keep the frown from her face.
"You're in the wrong place. I'm pretty sure Riverwood isn't the horker capital of Skyrim," she answered.
"That isn't it. You see, I've tried stews of all different flavours from all over Tamriel. I've tried your venisons and your steaks. I've tried your bug meat, your hoarver pies and chaurus nuggets. Some Wood Elf charlatan even tried to sell me what he called a wyvern steak, but it tasted like a mountain goat. I've tried every meat from Summerset Isle to the shores of Solstheim, and ain't nothing compare to a fresh pot of horker stew. But you know what I haven't tried? I haven't tried a dragon. And call me crazy, but I think I saw one fly this way not long ago."
Another dismaying memory popped up in her head. An obvious frown now appeared on Lio's face, but he didn't seem to notice as he looked at the skies far away, as if searching for the creature of legends.
"There was a dragon in Helgen. You probably saw that one," she said.
"You don't say," Gorr answered, a victorious tone in his voice. "Sounds like Embry owes me a drink. Said I was more likely to see a horker with wings." He laughed. "I reckon that would be too good to be true."
"Who's Embry?"
"A local drunk. Stays over at the inn."
"Is that where you stay too?"
Gorr nodded.
"What are you doing out here?" Lio asked. He grabbed his warhammer into his hands, almost smacking Lio to the face. She scooted a bit further away from him, deciding her life was still dear to her.
"I was just going this way." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "Ran into some wolves, though."
"This way? Maybe you could go that way with me?" she asked, pointing up the hill. Gorr laughed.
"I need some help with a quest of mine. If you're worried, it involves lots of fighting."
This was Lio's grand plan. If she could make Gorr follow her, then she could probably make it through Bleak Falls Barrow without a scrape. He didn't seem witty enough to betray her. Not that there would be any reason to betray her – she had nothing. Luckily Gorr didn't seem to be interested in any rewards and Lio decided not to bring up the topic either.
"Helping a fair maiden like you is always a pleasure. And getting to fight while doing it? That's even better," he laughed.
"Who told you I'm a fair maiden, huh?" Lio laughed, a faint blush stinging her cheeks.
"It was a very correct guess." He stood up, holding his Warhammer over his shoulder, a smile on his face. Lio walked past him and brushed his shoulder with her hand, beckoning him to follow.
"Let's go, Gladiator."