Gunfire. He's running hard, out of breath.

"Kill that motherfucker!" He screams to Yu. The specialist opens fire with his M249, spraying the enemy position.

"What's the plan, LT?" One of his soldiers asks. He turns to them, still panting.

"Right now, hold this fucking position as long as possible. Do not let them get past that park, you hear me?" He yells over the sound of the machine gun.

"Yes sir!" The soldier screams back, and runs back to his squad.

He's in cover right now, safe for the moment. Well, safer. He grabs the radio from McDermott. Command is asking something about their status. He doesn't really know. All he knows is that they need support right now or else this line is fucked.

"We need some fucking armor up here! Way too many of them, we can't fucking hold forever! Christ, just send us anything!" He screams just as a mortar shell lands nearby. There's a scream.

He takes a second to lean against the wall. McDermott hands him some water, which he greedily gulps down.

As he finishes, he notices the woman lying on the ground, her chest blown open. The remnants of a newborn lay around her.

"Sir, we've got arty coming down, danger close!"

Back to the fray.

XXX

Whiterun rises above the plains, surrounded by acres upon acres of farmland and small houses. Livestock roams lazily in the fields as carts filled with goods make their way to and from the city. The palace stands tallest in all its glory, its ancient rocks shining with pride and glory; surrounded by equally ancient stone walls. The walls are decrepit, but it only adds to the character of the city, not subtracts. They pass many travelers on the surprisingly even and well maintained roads, including a man stopped in order to fix his cart. They help him, and the old man calls many blessings upon them. He's always found that the reactions to simple acts of kindness are worth far more than the money people offer in exchange. He politely declined the man's offer of payment.

Colin had truly been enjoying himself on this hike. He's still a little tense, eyes darting around ahead looking for an intangible enemy that will never show its face; it hadn't soured his demeanor. He and Hadvar had just talked about everything and anything for the past several hours on their hike to Whiterun. Colin learned a lot more about Skyrim and the culture, and in return told vague stories about his past life. Hadvar had floated the idea of Colin joining up with the imperial army, but Colin deflected that idea. The last thing he wanted to do right now was join the army—not when he's been given a fresh start. Right?

The winding road twists and begins to elevate as they approach the city gates. Towers and watch posts dot the path, which twists backwards before finally arriving at the main gate. It's a very defensible fortification—provided the walls hold.

Although the gate is open, there's a checkpoint, manned by guards wearing yellow uniforms and armor, with helmets completely covering their faces. Colin frowns. Why the hell do they wear them when not in combat? It seems quite limiting to one's awareness, not to mention its weight. Then again, it's not the world he's used to.

The guards are searching everyone's belongings, making a point to be as inconvenient as possible. They could give the TSA a run for their money. What they are searching for isn't clear; a man with a sword strapped to his hip is able to enter freely after they search his bag.

Hadvar and Colin get in line, both feeling annoyed at this inconvenience. The two aren't alone—the majority are grumbling or silently cursing the guards, or both.

"What're they looking for?" Colin says, leaning in close to Hadvar.

Hadvar shrugs.

"Don't know. Magical destructive items? We shouldn't have any problem," He says assuredly. After around fifteen minutes of waiting, it's finally their turn.

"Place your bags on the table," one of the guards commands. They do as they are told, and he begins to rummage through their stuff. A second guard hovering over a piece of paper finishes writing a note and then looks at them. He, unlike the majority of the others, is not wearing his helmet.

"What's your business in Whiterun?" He asks tiredly. It seems that he is equally as frustrated at the situation.

Colin isn't fully confident in himself yet, so he lets Hadvar take the lead.

"We're here to see the Jarl," Hadvar says.

The man's tired eyes raise slightly, then he frowns and shakes his head.

"You may enter, but the Jarl can't be bothered. In meetings about taxes or which farmhouse burned down; I don't really care. Above my pay grade," The man says.

"We came from Helgen. There was a dragon," Hadvar says, trying to put as much gravity into the situation as he can.

At this, the man's eyes seem to snap awake. He signals for a woman in the back to come to him, whispering something in her ear.

The woman's eyebrows rise in surprise. She turns to the duo.

"This true?" She asks.

They both nod their heads in the affirmative.

"Come with me then," she says, gesturing for the two to follow her. Colin had thought they would be more skeptical, but apparently not. Not that he was complaining.

The woman led them hastily through the streets, maintaining a walking pace at such a speed that it forced Colin and Hadvar to jog several times. Colin took it all in with wonder and awe; he had seen cities eighty, if not a hundred times bigger than this (hell, he'd fought in them) but never had he seen such old style architecture. It really did feel like he was back in the Middle Ages or a fantasy realm. Though he actually probably was in a fantasy realm, and that of itself took a lot of mental willpower to not get lost in a hurricane of questioning and theorizing.

He had thought about why he wasn't as torn up about it all than he should be. He'd imagined that the overwhelming majority would experience despair at their situation. He didn't feel that way at all—more like a tourist in a strange land, albeit lost and confused. He knew why, he just didn't want to fully admit it. Not even to himself.

That he had lost nearly everything. His family was dead, his friends killed, his mind and soul shattered; all that had been keeping him going were the men and women he had under his command. They became his family as the war consumed him, as the nightmares became commonplace. He refused to kill himself or let himself be killed like so many others as long as he had some semblance of a reason to fight. There was pride for his country—he'd die for it. He felt a need to defend his country and home, the land he loved, but the war had taken the will to live out of him. So he'd die for it. Not live for it.

They passed a small square with a beautiful tree, barren of leaves, rising up above. Its age could be felt radiating off of it—he wouldn't be surprised if the city was built around the tree.

Right before they got to the front of the palace, the woman stopped, turned around, and put her hand on her sword.

"I'll let you keep your weapons, but know that if you try anything, I'll kill you both where you stand. Understood?" She asked. The duo answered differently.

Hadvar nodded his head and said yes. Colin, ever the genius he was, gave a mock salute that earned him a dirty glare.

I really need to think first, then act.

Oh, well. Being a smartass was fun. That, or it was a coping mechanism, but the latter sounded so therapeutic that he didn't want to deal with it.

The massive doors swung open, revealing a grand open hall, big enough to fit over a thousand people. A rectangular stone fireplace burned in the center, and tables were placed on the edges of the room, laden with food. Guards stood at several of the pillars, slightly more composed and dignified than their counterparts in the city. At the end was a throne, occupied by a stout individual wearing a golden crown, slumped lazily in his seat. The Jarl, no doubt about it, was conversing with a balding man dressed in fine blue clothing. To his left stood a dark-skinned figure with red eyes donning a set of armor, her hand grasped firmly on their sword. The figure appeared to be feminine, but Colin had never seen any other race save for a human. It was further confirmation that he was definitely not in the world he once knew.

They walked up a landing and across the hall to where the Jarl was seated. Noticing the approaching trio, he sat up straight and waved the man he was conversing with aside. The balding man looked miffed at this interruption, a haughty expression worn on his face.

In front of them, the woman leading them stopped suddenly.

"Jarl Balgruuf, I present you two men who claim to have been in Helgen and saw the dragon firsthand," she declared.

Jarl Balgruuf nodded slowly before speaking.

"Thank you, Lydia, you are dismissed," Jarl Balgruuf said.

"Of course, my Jarl," Lydia said, bowing slightly and making her exit.

The Jarl studied them slowly, although not menacingly, for several moments. Colin may not know much, but he did know that this was the kind of guy you let speak first. He held his tongue and waited for Jarl Balgruuf to speak.

"What are your names?" He finally asked.

"I'm Hadvar Octavius, sergeant in the Imperial Skyrim Expeditionary Force. This is…" Hadvar said, trailing off and looking at Colin without turning his head.

"Lieu…uh…Colin McGunn, sir," he said.

Smooth, real smooth.

"So you say you were in Helgen, then? The town that was recently annihilated?" Jarl Balgruuf said, emphasizing the word annihilated.

"Yes sir, I was stationed there when the dragon attacked. We were carrying out the executions of the traitor Ulfric and his band," Hadvar explained. "The dragon attacked out of nowhere, decimating our force. We barely escaped with our lives. In the chaos, Ulfric seems to have escaped."

Jarl Balgruuf pursed his lips and frowned, sitting forward in his chair.

"Yes, I'd heard about Ulfric's escape," Jarl Balgruuf said before turning to Colin.

"And you? What were you doing in Helgen?" He asked.

Colin scratched the back of his head and chuckled.

"Funny story actually, I was there to have my head removed from my shoulders," Colin said nervously.

Jarl Balgruuf's eyebrows raised at this, an amused smile appearing on his face.

"Really?"

"Yes, although it was an accident. He was found near Ulfric's group, and the guys who brought him in assumed he was a Stormcloak," Hadvar interjected.

"Yeah, I'm not with them," Colin explained hastily. "Wrong place, wrong time type of situation."

"Indeed. And you saw this dragon too?"

"Yes sir, right before the ax came down it appeared. Never seen anything like it in my life. Thing was absolutely massive, ripping people apart and burning the whole place down. Can't comment as to why though," Colin said.

Jarl Balgruuf leaned back in his seat, a weary expression on his face, deep in thought. After a moment, he looked back at the two.

"I'd heard of varying reports of dragon sightings, but to have not one but two witnesses who were at Helgen…these are most troubling times," Jarl Balgruuf said, shaking his head. "Any other details that I should be aware of?"

"Not much, just that it was big, ugly, and looked exactly like how the legends portray them," Hadvar said.

"And it spoke," Colin added.

Both Hadvar and Jarl Balgruuf looked at him in surprise.

"You…never mentioned this…" Hadvar said slowly.

"What, you didn't hear it too?" Colin said, confused.

"No, just some unintelligible roars and grunts," Hadvar said, frowning.

"I'm telling you, it was talking, somehow. Spoke about how it was here and that it was more powerful than something—what exactly I don't recall. Felt like the damned words were burning into my skull," Colin explained.

"What? You're telling me that it's roars actually meant something?" Hadvar asked.

"To me, at least. Then again, I'd hit my head pretty hard and had zero idea of where I was at the time," Colin said.

Before Hadvar could reply, Jarl Balgruuf spoke up.

"Whether or not you heard something is trivial. Thank you both for coming to inform me of this…situation," Jarl Balgruuf said, before turning to the woman standing next to him. "Irileth, instruct Farengar to divert resources to investigating this dragon. Have the city guards stop the checkpoint—we've no need anymore. Instead reinforce Riverwood and nearby fortifications. Double archer patrols on the walls."

"Yes, my Jarl," Irileth said, although she seemed hesitant about leaving her Jarl's side.

"It's fine, Irileth," Jarl Balgruuf said, waving dismissively.

"Of course," Irileth said, before turning and walking to an abutting room.

Jarl Balgruuf cleared his throat and stood up to shake both men's hands.

"Thank you, both, for coming to inform me, when you likely had better places to be," he said.

"I'd argue that this is far more important," Colin said with a chuckle.

Jarl Balgruuf gave a grateful smile before sitting back down.

"I assume you both want a reward for your deed?" He proposed.

"Nonsense. Spend it instead on helping those from Helgen," Hadvar said with a bow.

"Same goes for me. I don't need it as much as all those people in and around Helgen. Thank you, though," Colin said.

"You are both good men," Jarl Balgruuf said sagely. "Skyrim needs more men like you. You have my gratitude."

XXX

As the wooden doors of the Jarl's palace closed behind them, the duo walked silently down the flight of steps. The waterworks were a testament to the beauty of Whiterun—and Skyrim's engineering. Then again, it could be powered by magic. He knew virtually nothing about it.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs and reached the square, Colin realized he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He had no plan, no direction, and only a few dolla—septims to his name. He may know very little about this world that he's in, but he does know that money makes the world go round. Every world. In order to do anything you needed money, which had to be earned. That meant a job of sorts, and that would anchor him down from the possibility of ever seeing home again.

It was true that he had very little to live for back on his world, but he missed some of the smaller things that this world lacked. Like modern technology, culture he knew, geopolitics that were familiar, and fauna that were familiar. Not only that, but some of the new things were terrifying to him because he knew nothing about them. Magic was one. From what Hadvar and Alvor had told him, magic could be used in thousands of ways. He had no idea how it worked or how to wield it, only that it was like the stuff straight out of a fantasy novel. This whole world was right out of Tolkien's manuscripts, if he was being honest with himself.

And then there were the dragons. And spiders. Those were terrifying for obvious reasons.

As Colin went over everything in his head, he realized that it wasn't so much as a fear rather than a sense of uncertainty—indecisiveness born of incomprehension of the world around him. Getting familiar with his environment seemed daunting. He was an adult, but it was as if he was just leaving home for the first time because of how foreign everything was. He needed to get some direction, something to do just to take his mind off of his surroundings and allow him time to adapt.

"So," Hadvar said, coming to a stop.

"So," Colin echoed.

"I have to get back to the army. Can't just abandon my post. It'll be several weeks before I'm fit for duty, but I best report anyway," Hadvar said, eyes wandering around. "You know, we could always use more men with your skill set. There's a high chance you'd be placed with me if I put the word in. If you're interested, of course."

Colin sat down on some stone steps, Hadvar remaining standing. The army. Not the United States Army, but the Imperial army. An army of a land he had known less than a week, with no ties or loyalties internally except something to occupy his time and let him adapt.

He knew the army quite well. Honestly, it would be a pretty good fit for him. Hell, he could even bring some of his modern knowledge into it, and that'd get him quickly promoted. Colin would be able to establish himself and get a source of income. Not only that, but he'd be with Hadvar, who at the moment, was his only friend and pretty much his only contact. Hadvar could help guide him. All in all, it sounded like a pretty sound choice.

But it just felt so wrong.

This new world, this new land, was a new opportunity for him. A chance to start clean. He'd yearned for the day when he'd be done with Korea and that day had come. Immediately signing up with a foreign army just seemed like such a betrayal. Thrust from one war to another, doomed to repeat his military service. The fighting would obviously be less intense, but he would still be in an army during wartime.

Truthfully he still hadn't escaped Korea. It was still with him, haunting him. Noises that were too loud made him flinch, he slept too lightly, and walking was plagued with paranoid scouting of potential ambush points. Waiting constantly for the next shell to come down, the next bullet to fly by, the next scream of pain.

He closed his eyes as a painful memory came to the front of his mind.

XXX

She was looking at him with her intense green eyes, her eyes just a bit watery but still projecting strength. Then he was no longer looking into her eyes and instead into the top of her head as she hugged him fiercely. He hugged her back, matching the intensity.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, Col," Jane said, her face buried into his shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss you too," He said, his throat tightening and his eyes threatening to spill unshed tears.

As they parted, eyes both full of emotion, an announcement came over the loudspeaker above.

"You stay safe out there, Colin," She said, then grinned. "Or rather, down there."

"As long as you promise to stay safe up there," Colin said, giving Jane a pat on her shoulder.

Jane's face fell slightly.

"Colin, you're going to be in the thick of it," Jane said, looking down.

"And you aren't?" He replied quickly.

"I can eject if something goes wrong. You can't," Jane said, looking up into Colin's eyes. Colin sighed heavily, the lump in his throat contracting ever further. He pulled her into another hug.

"I'll stay safe. Promise. But you," Colin said, his voice breaking. "You'd better get your ass back in one piece, okay? Promise me that."

"I promise," Jane whispered, her voice uncharacteristically small.

XXX

Colin looked at Hadvar with an apologetic smile.

"I…look, the offer's tempting. It really is. I just don't think…it's just…I can't go back into that. Not…not so soon," Colin said, his eyes conveying his message better than words ever could.

Hadvar nodded and patted him on the shoulder and nodded.

"I understand," He said, disappointment evident on his face. He stuck out his hand.

"It's been a pleasure, Colin," he said.

Colin stood up and shook Hadvar's hand firmly, feeling the camaraderie between the two of them.

"Likewise. Thank you for everything. And for saving my ass," Colin said.

"And thank you for saving mine. If you ever change your mind, I'll make sure you're with me," Hadvar said. "Goodbye, Colin."

Colin smiled and gave a mock salute, earning a smile from Hadvar in return. As he walked away, Colin sat back down on the stone steps.

"Auf Wiedersehen," He mumbled under his breath, eyes glancing down. Colin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, beating back the intrusive thoughts, the perverse distaste for the serenity of his surroundings. His head hurt for some reason.

Looking up at the darkening sky, it occurred to him that he had no place to go. He had rejected Hadvar's offer without any other plan in place, without putting so much as a singular thought into what he would do next. There was nobody else he knew, unless he chose to walk back to Riverwood, whom he could ask to spend the night with Alvor. Any sort of inn or tavern would require payment in exchange for a room, and he really had no idea how much thirty five septims was worth.

The market stalls he had passed earlier had called out prices for food items and trinkets at ten or less, so he figured that it likely could buy him a couple days' worth of food; sustain him until he figured out what he was to do. Maybe there were help wanted ads around Whiterun, or some odd job he could pull to earn a place to stay. Perhaps he could do some sort of mercenary work. Or, he could once again sell his soul to the army.

His mind waged an internal war, consistently reaching a stalemate, each one draining him of his capacity to figure out his next step. It was stressing himself out, and his headache seemed to just be growing worse. It was pathetic, really. He'd gone from barely being concerned about a nearby explosion to fretting over what he was going to do with his newfound freedom.

Maybe if he clicked his heels three times, he'd wake up back on that road in Korea. His time was running out there.

Wait.

This was a settlement. And wherever there's a settlement, there's a bar. You can't have civilization without alcohol. He had money left, so why no go on a bender just because? He found the idea of waking up in a cell for disorderly behavior to be not as appalling as it once had been. Maybe he would figure out what the fuck he was doing here, or what the fuck he was going to do. More likely he would just forget, just for a little while.

Just as he was about to get up and look for a tavern, a young girl timidly walked up to him. She was dressed in rags and her face was dirty, hair an uncombed mess; she was unnaturally skinny from malnourishment. Her eyes had a desperate look in them. Colin felt his heart sink at the sight of the girl. He'd gone most of his life without seeing such horrendous societal dereliction of duty. Until Korea, of course.

"Um," The girl began, eyes refusing to meet his. Her voice was so small and timid that he could barely hear it. Colin spoke, rescuing the girl.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?" He asked with a smile that hid the troubles on his face. "I'm Colin."

The girl looked surprised, but actually looked him in the eyes when she spoke next.

"Uhhh," She began, swallowing hard. "Lucia, sir."

"Lucia, huh? What can I do for you?" He asked gently.

The girl cleared her throat, her eyes once more falling to the ground.

"I was wondering…sir…um…if you could spare a coin? I haven't eaten in the past two days, and I'm really hungry," Lucia said, biting her lip nervously.

Colin felt his heart sink further as Lucia confirmed what he already knew. Truthfully, he didn't really have much—if any—money that he could reasonably spare. He himself was at risk of ending up on the streets, and every septim counted. There were so many reasons why he shouldn't give her anything.

Colin gave her a sad smile.

"Yeah, of course," He said, reaching into his bag and pulling out the pouch of coins Alvor had given him. He handed the bag to the wide eyed girl without hesitation.

Lucia's nervous expression changed to one of pure joy, reaching for the bag respectfully.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, sir!" She said, practically bouncing up and down. "Divines bless your kind heart!"

Colin genuinely smiled. This was worth far more than thirty five septims. The feeling it brought; being capable of bringing a child immense joy was worth more to him than could ever be appraised.

"Go get yourself something good, you hear me?" He said, patting the girl on the arm.

"Yes! Of course! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" Lucia said, her eyes wet with unshed tears of happiness. She then turned and dashed off in the direction of the market, her joyful smile not leaving her face.

He knew he shouldn't have given her that much. Or rather, given her everything. But frankly, he didn't care. It was worth it. So, so worth it. He sat there, looking off in the direction where Lucia had gone, a dumb smile clinging to his weary face. Colin had no idea of how long he had been staring, and wasn't even aware of his surroundings (something that was a scarcity as of late), until a voice spoke up from behind.

"You gave her everything, didn't you?" A man's voice came from behind. Colin turned, frowning.

Behind him was an older man, looking down upon him with an intense gaze from weathered features. He had a swirling tattoo on his face, almost like a wave, though the bottom was obscured by a thick, graying beard. His hair, equal in color, was combed back at the top whilst the sides fell down and were combed behind his ears; a small braid falling in front of his ear.

"Yeah. I'd do it again," Colin said, somewhat defensively. The old man nodded and the ghost of his smile appeared on his face.

"Awfully kind of you. Foolish, but kind," the old man said.

"I'm not naive," Colin replied, wondering who this old man was to judge him.

"Did I say the word naive?" The old man asked rhetorically. "No. You are not naive. Far from it, in fact. Perhaps too far. Foolishness does not equate to naivete."

Colin shrugged, turning his whole body towards the old man.

"Probably. Still worth it, though," he said.

"Yes. You have a good heart," The old man nodded. "One burdened by fatalism and self-apathy."

Colin tried to hide the surprise on his face, but failed miserably. He hated it when others could define his feelings in apt ways; ways he couldn't. He opened his mouth to speak, but found that no words would come out of his mouth. The old man softly chuckled.

"When you get to be as old as I am, you see the world differently," the old man said. At this Colin scoffed.

"Bit of a cliche," Colin pointed out.

"True. But a valid one nonetheless," the old man said.

"Mind if I sit with you?" He inquired.

"Sure, have a seat. Not my property," Colin said, patting the step next to him. The old man walked down and took a seat, gazing intently out at the beautiful tree that was before them. A thought suddenly came to Colin.

"Uh, are we allowed to be here? Or is this loitering?" He asked, raising one of his eyebrows.

"I don't mind," the old man said with a smile, his gaze still fixed on the tree.

"Oh. This is your…uh…" Colin said dumbly. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," the old man said, turning his head to look at Colin. "The city's got it in their heads that it would be disrespectful to sit here. Quite the contrary, in fact."

"What do you mean?" Colin asked, looking behind him. At the top of the steps sat a large building, one that looked like a giant canoe had been flipped over and turned into an inhabited building. A cliff stood next to it, elegant and ornate, with steam rising from the top.

"Is this like a temple or something?" Colin asked. The old man snorted at this.

"No, no. Nothing of the sort. Skjor would have you believe otherwise, though," The old man replied.

"Skjor?" Colin echoed.

"Forgive me," the old man said, sticking out his hand. "The name's Kodlak Whitemane."

"Colin. Colin McGunn. A pleasure," Colin said, firmly gripping Kodlak's hand.

"I had a feeling you weren't from here. That just about all but confirms it," Kodlak said as they broke the handshake.

"I…yeah. I'm new to…well…let's just say new to Skyrim," Colin said.

"Yes, I could tell," Kodlak said, then turned halfway and gestured to the massive upside down boat behind them. "This is Jorrvaskr, home of the Companions."

"I have no idea what that is. I'm pretty new here," Colin said with a chuckle. "As in, I had no idea Skyrim existed until a couple days ago, crazy as that sounds."

Kodlak nodded sagely.

"I believe you," He said. "Would you like to know about the Companions?"

"Uh…yeah, sure. Why not," Colin said with a shrug.

"The Companions are among the oldest warriors in all Skyrim, descended from the original five hundred of Ysgramor," Kodlak explained. "Jorrvaskr is our mead hall, where we have existed as shield-brothers and sisters for a millennia."

"So you're like mercenaries?" Colin asked.

"Honorbound warriors. We do not participate in political conflicts, priding honor above all. We take upon ourselves contracts that are for the good of Skyrim. This neutrality we have sometimes leads us to become official arbiters. The Companions are an honorbound warrior's guild," Kodlak said.

"What kinds of contracts do you take?" Colin inquired curiously.

"Any that we believe to be honorable. Sometimes a troll is causing havoc on a farm, other times bandits terrorize the roads; the only condition is that it be honorable," Kodlak explained.

"You lead them?" Colin asked.

"I am their Harbinger, but not their leader. The Companions do not have any leadership or authority amongst one another. Harbingers act as advisors; the one who the others listen to and respect; the one who takes lead by example and not by edicts," Kodlak explained.

"How have you existed this long without any sort of leadership?"

"Because those who become Companions sacrifice their old lives and commit to the unity of the group. The bonds of mutual respect, honor, and kinsmanship are far stronger than anything that could be put to paper."

Colin nodded slowly.

"Seems fulfilling," Colin remarked.

"It is," Kodlak replied, then looked out to the tree. The sun was beginning to dip past the horizon, the day turning to dusk. They sat there for several minutes.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty hungry," Kodlak said, standing up. He motioned for Colin to do the same, who looked back in confusion.

"Uh, what?" Colin asked hesitantly.

"It's supper time. You're dining with me tonight," Kodlak said nonchalantly, surprising Colin, who squeezed his eyes and shook his head in confusion.

"I'm what now?" He asked.

"Dining with me. Let's go," Kodlak said. "Unless you've anywhere else to be?"

Kodlak extended his arm, helping Colin up.

"Uh, thank you. I don't…I mean…I can't pay you-" Colin began.

"Bah, nonsense. I want to hear your story," Kodlak said, beginning to slowly walk up the stairs.

"My story?" Colin parroted.

"What's written on your face tells me a great deal; I'm intrigued," Kodlak said.

"Well, sure. Doubt you'd believe me though," Colin said, following Kodlak.

"I'll be the judge of what I believe," Kodlak said with a small grin, pushing open the door to Jorrvaskr.

As they entered, Colin became enraptured by the atmosphere within. A great hall made up the bulk of the building, the center dipping down into a long table that hugged the stone edge of a massive fireplace. To his left he could see a staircase that descended below the building, and on his far right there was an open doorway. An elderly woman stood inside sweeping, idly conversing with a figure Colin could not see.

Shields and blades adorned the walls, blending in with various taxidermied beasts and a few paintings depicting various unfamiliar battles. Several chairs and tables dotted the outskirts of the dining area, laden with books, daggers, and food. The atmosphere consumed him; it felt alive and hospitable; somewhere beckoning those in search of good food and thought currently absent, lots of good company. He'd seen a few pictures of what Viking halls were supposed to look like, and always thought they looked very inviting. Jorrvaskr not only met his expectations but greatly surpassed them.

"Kodl-hic-ak! Dinner's almost a-ready!" A man said, standing up from his chair and raising a half empty bottle gracelessly.

"This would be Torvar, once again drunk before dinner. Takes the mead part of the Companions very seriously," Kodlak said with a chuckle, descending the few steps to the dining area.

Torvar turned and looked in surprise, grinning widely at Colin. Colin found himself quite entertained with Torvar's antics.

"A guest!" Torvar exclaimed, stumbling up to Colin and extending his hand. Colin shook it firmly.

"Wow, that's a strong grip you've got there! The name is Torvar, a pleasure to meet you good sir," Torvar said with an exaggerated bow.

"I'm Colin. Nice to meet you too," Colin said.

"Colin! The newest member! It's an honor brother! Come, you must sit next to me before the others steal your attention!" Torvar said, stumbling up to a chair.

"Wait, what?" Colin said, confused.

"We shall see, Torvar," Kodlak said, moving over to a small washbasin and splashing some water on his face.

Colin was about to inquire further about "being the new member" but Torvar cut him off.

"Athis, Ria! We've a guest! Introduce yourselves to the newest whelp!" Torvar exclaimed, falling into his seat.

Two figures had emerged from the opposite side of the hall, covered in sweat. One was a gray skinned man with red eyes; a Dunmer; the other a woman with what looked to be intricate tattoos on her face. The Dumner gave a curt nod in Colin's direction, while the woman looked to Colin and beamed, walking up to him with her hand extended. She was carrying a hide and leather helmet of sorts under her other arm.

"I'm Ria. The dejected Dunmer over there would be Athis," Ria said with a smirk, nodding back to Athis who was taking off his leather padding. Colin met her handshake.

"Dejected, eh?" Colin asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Lies. She's lying," Athis said, evidently still a little short on breath. "My pride is just as intact as it was when I woke up."

Ria broke the handshake and looked to Athis, her smile broadening even further.

"Uh-huh. Better pay up, tough guy," Ria said, placing her helmet down on one of the tables.

The door behind them burst open violently.

"We're back, people! Two giants to show for it!" A booming voice came. Colin turned to see two burly men and a woman walk in. The two men looked quite similar and were dressed in heavy metal plating, massive swords slung over their backs. The woman was dressed in various furs and wore green face paint in three lines running diagonally down her face. She was carrying a massive sack and looking quite proud of herself.

"Hey, guys. Guess who just kicked Athis's ass?" Ria said.

"Well, you'll be sitting with the winners tonight! Fetched double price for their heads!" The burly man exclaimed loudly. The other looked at him and scoffed.

"Aren't you forgetting to mention something, brother?" He said, shaking his head.

"What?" The first man said with a frown, his arms falling to his sides and a confused frown appearing on his face.

"That you got flung onto some poor farmer's cow? You broke its legs, you know," the second man said.

"Not my fault, Vilkas, not my fault. Aela wasn't fast enough to cover me," the man exclaimed defensively.

"Be careful who you bring into these dick measuring contests, Farkas. Because I'd love nothing more than to tear into your form today," the woman, Aela presumably, said with a scowl that didn't quite make it to her eyes.

"You know, now that I think about it, Aela was the one who got both killing shots," Farkas said.

Aela bent down and began putting items from the sack into a cabinet.

"Good man," she said.

"Farkas, Vilkas, Aela—we have comp'ny!" Torvar spoke up, his voice somewhat muffled behind a mug.

"Oh, you're the new whelp?" Farkas said, walking up to Colin and firmly shaking his hand. "Farkas. That there's my older brother Vilkas."

"Colin. Kodlak invited me, so I guess I'm here now," Colin said with a shrug.

"Well, you get the privilege of sitting next to me," Farkas said, pushing Colin towards a seat. Torvar frowned.

"Hey, he was gonna sit next to me!" He spoke up indignantly.

"Well, now he's sitting next to me. Tough luck, ain't it," Farkas said, sitting down in a chair. Colin sat down next to him, desperately trying to retain some sense of decorum, even though he likely wouldn't need it with the current company. In fact, it seemed like they shared his laidback views. It felt oddly refreshing.

Large mugs and trays of meat were brought out onto the table by the older woman, who gave Colin a kind smile as she placed his mug down. Colin gave her a smile in return as he accepted the mug, taking a swig. The ale was strong, stronger than what he was used to.

"So," Aela began, tearing off a chunk of meat with her teeth and gnawing it ferociously.

"Where'd the old man find you, anyways?" She asked, swallowing the meat after only a few bites and washing it down with a large swig of ale.

"Right outside. Sat on the steps to think," Colin replied with a shrug. He moved to take a swig of his drink but felt a hard slap across his back. The drink spilled all over his face and down his shirt.

"Ha! Good one!" Farkas bellowed, oblivious to Colin's irritation at the gesture. "Really, though. Where'd he find you? Better yet, what did you do to get his attention?"

Finding no napkins, Colin grabbed his shirt and wiped the mead off his face, though the annoyance remained. Aela and Ria shared an amused look.

"I'm telling you the truth. I sat down on the steps to think, and Kodlak sat down next to me and struck up a conversation," Colin said firmly, annoyed at finding himself unable to remain properly annoyed at Farkas.

"Really?" Aela said, raising one eyebrow. "Impressive. Not sure what the old man saw in you, but I trust his judgment."

"Oh, no, I'm just here for dinner," Colin corrected, taking another bite of the food.

"Mmhmm," Aela replied with a noncommittal shrug.

Colin felt slightly uneasy; he was unsure of whether or not he had unknowingly joined this band of mercenaries. Not that he would be opposed to it—at least, not entirely—but he hadn't had time to give it any thought. Colin went back to his food, deep in thought.

XXX

"And I guess who I saw?" Colin slurred, leaning on Farkas for support.

"Who?" Ria replied drunkenly.

"Captain mothafuckin' Matthews. His daughter was that Matthew," Colin said, taking a swig of mead, oblivious to the contents largely pouring down his shirt.

The table erupted in raucous laughter and guffaws, the companions whooping and hollering drunkenly. He found it impossible to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Not that he cared.

After the laughter died down, Athis spoke up, raising his glass in between the dying chuckles.

"I'd," he began, before belching loudly, causing another round of chuckles to echo around the table. Composing himself, Athis began once more.

"I'd jus' like to say, that I'd like to raise a toast in honor of our newest member, who's made this night truly enjoyable," the inebriated Athis said. The companions raised their mead glasses and echoed the sentiment, looking at Colin, who cleared his throat and stood up.

"My friens…I would jus' like to say that I am honored to be the newest member, and that I may do whatever it is that y'all do for many eons…no decades, no…ah, long units of time measurement that I do what with you all do," Colin preached, frowning at the last part.

"No, me, I doing it with you. Tonight has been fuckin awesome, an frankly, I missed a good fight which we will do lots of," Colin spoke proudly, raising his glass. A chorus of drunken cheers came from the companions.

"And it will be of the greatest honors to witness my friend Farkas, here, get launched into some poor agricultural man's bovine with grace and splendor!"

"You're damn right!" Farkas bellowed, and once again the table dissolved into drunken laughter.

Kodlak, who had been silently observing it all with a smile infinitely more sober than his compatriots, stood and raised his mug.

"Then, I ask of you, Colin of America, do you wish to formally join the Companions, and become a shield brother to us all?" Kodlak asked.

Without any hesitation, Colin responded.

"Abso-fuckin-lutely I do!" He said, raising his mug so quickly that most of the contents flew out of it and onto a passed out Torvar's face. Torvar emitted a grunt and swatted lamely at the air, before returning to obnoxiously snoring.

The companions whooped and cheered, and Colin refilled his mug with a stupid grin that stretched as far as it could.

XXX

He wasn't entirely sure where he was, but it was pleasantly cool. It was stone and it was cold, and it felt great to lie there on a pillow. The gods were good, he had woken up comfortably. And with a splitting headache and ridiculous fatigue; his body protesting the previous night of debauchery.

Sounds were beginning to return to him and he was not happy about it. A gruff voice was demanding that he wake up, but it was all a haze. And frankly, he didn't care—he was going to sleep on this and answer to no one.

Cold water soaked him, piercing through the foggy haze and jolting him awake with a gasp. His eyes shot open to a man standing over him, though he could not easily discern who until the figure spoke.

"Wake up, whelp. Time to train," Farkas said impatiently.

Colin slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the epic hangover he had right now.

"The hell do you mean?" He asked, his tone of voice derived directly from his hangover.

"I said, it's time to train. You took the oath. If you aren't out in the yard in five minutes, I'll drag your sorry hide there myself."

And with that, Farkas turned and exited the room. Colin closed his eyes and pressed deeply into the bridge of his nose, a grimace etched into his face. The events that transpired the previous night slowly came back to him.

Fuck.

Author's Note:

Wow! This chapter is late! Yeah, yeah, I know. I figured I needed to replay Skyrim since it's been a while…modded…and then Fallout: New Vegas called and EMT training stuff…

…fast forward two weeks and several keys on my keyboard are broken. And then I got drunk and wrote a New Vegas short story, which I'll probably end up posting.

I promise there will be more regular updates. In fact, if I had a beta reader I could probably pump them out a bit faster. Just sayin'…

Anyways, yeah, the Companions! I think Colin will find purpose here. A family. Maybe even a mentor in Kodlak.

Yours,

amc555