Traveling Trials
POV Magrakh, Chapter 1: A rough start
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9:30 AM, Morndas the 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201
He didn't think that the worst things in the world could get worse, yet he was proven wrong three times in the same day.
Two desperate souls breathe heavily in the shadow of a hill, seeking refuge among the bushes like frightened rabbits. The orc and the human observe glimpses of the road through the foliage.
We're too close, the Orc thinks, hearing a roar echoing in the sky.
Even from their considerable distance, they could hear the dragon wreaking havoc in the city of Helgen.
These roars are a new sound to him, but they still manage to trigger his lizard brain, making him feel as vulnerable and in need of hiding as a critter.
The warrior mages of the Empire are trying to fight the dragon to stop the destruction of the city, but the dragon is immense, and its fire is merciless.
How can people fight an incarnated natural disaster?
The memory replays in his mind, mocking him. Because it's exactly his kind of luck to be saved by a legendary monster and a girl.
He glances at his impromptu savior: a young woman who, He'd bet his tusks, hasn't lifted a tool, much less wielded a sword, and yet she didn't hesitate to brandish it and spill blood. The blade is still clutched in her hand as if it were an anchor of salvation.
She's trembling from the cold caused by her thin clothes, but also from the adrenaline from the recent battle and the panic which had a chance to settle now that she's no longer occupied by escaping. She's gripping his arm too, as if she expects him to disappear.
The girl gasps like a fish out of water, tears and mucus mixing with blood and soot. The orc understands her reaction, but he can't let his only ally succumb to her emotions.
They have to survive first, there's time to shit themselves later.
So he tries to wipe the blood from his face and not let his own tremors show, and catches her eyes by holding her shoulders, being careful not to touch the recent burns.
"Hey, girl," he says, too tired to be more eloquent, "snap out of it, we're not safe yet."
The sound she makes is a choked sob, and her eyes are quickly shifting from him to the snowy road.
They can both smell the smoke beginning to fill the air.
"Oi," he whispers, gripping her even more tightly to help her come back, "we're still running for our lives, remember?" Feeling the need to warn the poor thing, he adds, "if you can't pull yourself together, I'll leave you behind."
The girl's eyes, a dark brown common for a human who isn't a Nord, return to his own, and her grip on his arm tightens to a painful point.
Ah, I've got her attention.
"You're right," she whispers, "we can't stay here."
"I'm glad you've come to your senses. You led me here, and I don't know where we are, but—"
"West. There's a Stormcloak camp to the East, that's why I chose West."
He decides not to ask her how the hell she knows about the rebel's camp; it's not helpful at the moment. All he allows himself to think is that the camp is probably where the imprisoned rebels are trying to get to.
"Good," he says, "and what's around here? Do you know a place where we can take shelter for a while?"
Her gaze moves quickly around them, but this time she's focused on her thoughts and not lost in fear.
Before she can say anything, however, movement from the road prompts them to duck low and remain still.
There are people running towards Helgen instead of away as they should. Their tone of voice is alarmed, but it's impossible to know who they are from their attire or make out what they're saying, but even after they're gone, the two take their time to resume their conversation.
"I think the nearest town is Riverwood, to the Northeast…" She turns her head, indicating the direction she's talking about.
How does she orient herself without the position of the sun? The orc wonders.
"Or Falkreath," she adds hesitantly, "it's in the opposite direction, to the Southwest."
"I'd prefer to avoid populated areas for now," he says, trying not to seem too frightened by the idea, "as you well know, I was a prisoner just a few minutes ago."
And I don't intend to be one again, he doesn't say, but judging by the small nod he receives, the girl understands.
"I can't blend in like you. There aren't many orcs wandering Skyrim."
Would the Nords even care about a single orc prisoner in this time of chaos? For all he knows, the world is ending.
"Well," the girl says after some thought, "there are a few options, but they all have risks."
The orc snorts, and without a word, he points towards the smoke. At the moment, any place is less risky than being under that flying monster.
"Which one do you think is the safest?"
She muses thoughtfully, taking her time, as if outside their small fragment of peace there isn't catastrophe unfolding.
"There's a hut hidden among the trees on the edge of the river to the Northwest. We'd have to cross the river to get there, and a witch lives in it."
The orc is confused. "Why is there a witch in your safest option?"
The girl shrugs, wiping her face with the sleeve.
"The witch pretends to be an ordinary woman, so she's not hostile to passersby. The place is out of the way, and I don't think anyone knows about it, but it's also close to running water, and has provisions."
Then how do you know about it?
He doesn't ask, but he can't help the accusing look that says it for him. She doesn't seem bothered by it; in fact, she seems to be already considering how to kill this person.
How does she know that she's a witch and not just an odd old lady?
He doesn't like this girl.
"Other options?"
She ponders, while extracting the pebbles stuck in her knee. "A little further West there's Pinewatch, a farmhouse that hides a tunnel leading to an ancient Nord ruin. It's full of bandits, but there's only one person guarding the house."
The orc stares. He'd like to ask the obvious question, "How do you know?" but time is essential, and he's not even sure he wants to know the answer at this point.
She's not a normal citizen as I thought.
"Or," she continues, "we could distance ourselves further, spend the night among the trees, wait for everything to calm down, and... for the dragon to leave. Then we go back to Helgen and scavenge what's left."
He doesn't like her assumption that everyone will die, but thinking of the black dragon towering over the inn and its flames melting the stone, he can't blame her.
"We could also run to Whiterun and bring news of Helgen to the Jarl, he might view the gesture favorably."
And risk being recognized for my bounty in the Reach? No.
"It would take a few days to get to Whiterun, and this is not the time to travel. It's too risky. You might get away with it, but I bet they wouldn't even let me in."
And then he says something he didn't think he'd say: he asks about the witch.
"Her name is Anise," she whispers the answer as if the witch could hear her, "and hide her witchy stuff in the basement. I don't know much about her, but the cabin is small and full of holes; there's no place to hide."
"And she's alone?"
"Yes."
The orc looks at her with suspicion, unable to forget what he saw her do in Helgen's keep when she thought nobody could see, but the girl just looks tired and in pain.
However, that doesn't rule out the possibility that she might be a pawn of the witch to bring her new victims. It's better to be on guard, and at the first hint of betrayal, off with her head!
"What's your name?" The girl asks.
The innocent question catches him off guard. With all the running for their lives, he had forgotten simple things such as names.
"Magrakh."
"I'm Pellegrina, but you can call me Pelle," she smiles slightly, "everyone does."
Magrakh nods. "Why do I get the feeling you already have ideas on how to deal with this witch?"
The innocent smile widens into a much more sinister grin.
Disturbed by his own ally, Magrakh decides he'll keep an eye on her sword and watch his back.
"Run this plan by me, would you?"
Notes
In the next chapter:
Once they're safe, Pelle and Magrakh take a moment to recover and get to know each other, but it's clear there's a lot they're keeping secret, which leads to suspicion.