Skyrim: A Tale of Two Dragons
Chapter 7: A Brief Rest
Wulfric took Balgruuf up on his offer to recover at Dragonsreach. Between various healers and potions, the man was back to full health in just over a day. However, the immense fatigue had taken a toll that no potion could readily fix. Wulfric felt overwhelmingly lethargic for the better part of two days, barely leaving the small room he was in.
Various servants had brought him food, drink, and fresh linens. Each time, the large Nord made sure to express his gratitude to them. To be waiting on like this was both appreciated and deeply uncomfortable to the man. Be it helping his mother to mend clothes and prepare meat or house repairs and hunting with his father, Wulfric had always been made to earn his own keep.
During his stay he had been visited by Irileth and Jarl Balgruuf. While the Dark Elf said little, preferring to act as a shadow to Balgruuf, she always held her gaze when speaking. While everything else about her remained a mystery, Wulfric could at least tell that the Dark Elf had come to respect him.
Balgruuf, however, looked far more tired than Wulfric had ever seen him. Gone was the fiery determination he'd seen after the dragon attack, leaving the man sullen and weary. It was clear that dealing with the fallout of the dragon's attack was weighing on him.
Balgruuf had explained to him the large funeral service for all the soldiers and civils killed during the attack. Wulfric had been too drained to attend the service but understood that the entire city had shut down for the day in remembrance. All together the city guard had lost 37 men and women, with 11 more civilians being killed as well. Wulfric had been surprised at the number of civilians that had been killed. Apparently then had been caught in the middle of the dragon's initial attack on the watchtower.
Balgruuf seemed to wear the number of lives lost like a physical weight. Wulfric had also noted an increased presence of Imperial soldiers within Dragonsreach. In those times, Balgruuf seemed as stoic as the mountains that surrounded his city, appeasing the soldiers and diplomats while also refusing their help. The man truly did want to stay neutral during the war and Wulfric was impressed by his ability to do so.
The Jarl and his housecarl were far from the only visitors he received as he recovered.
Farengar had made multiple trips to his room, practically begging Wulfric to go over everything about the dragon that he could remember as well as everything from the attack by Alduin at Helgen. Wulfric opted to keep his dream of the dragon to himself.
One of the times, Farengar was accompanied by a hooded figure. Wulfric couldn't distinguish anything about them under their hood but he recognized their outfit. They had been with Farengar when Wulfric had first met him a few days prior. He remembered that they had helped to obtained the Dragonstone for the wizard. Much like last time, they hovered in the back of the room by the door, saying nothing as Farengar questioned Wulfric about Alduin.
Something about them made the Nord uneasy, but he brushed it off for the time being. There were more important things at hand.
He had also met with representative of the Companions, a warrior who called herself Aela the Huntress. A fierce redhead wearing war paint across her face, she came off as headstrong and abrasive but Wulfric recognized an accomplished fighter when he saw one. Her demeanor was one of confidence rather than cockiness, a trait seen only in truly capable warriors.
She had come to hear about his defeat of the dragon and to extend an invitation to join the Companions as a Shield-Brother. Evidently the invite had come directly from their current Harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane. Wulfric recognized the name from many of his father's stories about the Companions. He politely told her that he was not interested in this time but would stop by and speak to Kodlak as a courtesy. The woman had scoffed lightly but said she would relay the message all the same.
As she was about to leave, Aela snapped in fingers together. "Ah, I nearly forgot!"
She opened to the door and with a firm grunt carried Wulfric's maul into the room. The large hammer glistened as through it had been recently polished. The dents and knicks had been repaired better than Wulfric had ever expected. She learned in a nearby corner and shot Wulfric a wide grin.
"Aside from the dragon, you're the talk of the Companions right now. Jarl Balgruuf asked Eorlund to fix up this monstrosity while you were unconscious. Farkas, one of my Shield-Brothers, was asked to retrieve it from Dragonsreach and he hasn't stopped talking about it since."
Wulfric chuckled lightly, before wincing in pain. "I'm surprised that you were able to carry it so easily. Not many women can haul around a hammer that big."
Aela smirked at him. "I'm far from your average woman, no matter where from Tamriel you call home. Once Eorlund got it fixed up, Farkas just had to try it out. It took him a bit to get the balance right – he nearly took his brother's head off – but he managed to take out a practice target in a single swing, the big lug. Caused a big stir throughout Jorrvaskr. I expect he'll be looking for you once you're back on your feet."
"I suppose I'll have to keep an eye out for him then."
Aela's smirked widened further as she slipped out the door, calling back. "Don't worry about that! I'm sure he'll find you first!"
Once he had recovered a good amount of his stamina back, Wulfric made his way over to the Temple of Kynareth to personally thank the healers. He was specifically looking to find Dagny Clear-Water when he spotted a familiar face hidden in a shadowy corner of the room.
"Jon?" Wulfric asked in a low voice as he approached. "I'm surprised to see you here."
The thin man startled a bit and his companion pulled their hood down further. Wulfric watched them with a raised eyebrow. After a moment, Jon Battle-Born extended a hand to his "more-or-less" cousin. Wulfric shook it carefully, mindful that the man had suffered serious burns from the dragon's flames.
"Hello Wulfric, it's good to see you up and about." The man answered as he quickly looked about the room. "Please keep your voice low. I'd like to keep it under wraps that I'm here."
Wulfric looked confused but lowered his voice all the same. "Very well, but why the secrecy? Actually, why are you in here at all? I would've figured that you'd be getting treatment at your home."
Jon flushed lightly. "My father places far too much importance on our clan's prestige and wealth. I'll be coming here for my healings now that I'm well enough to walk about the city."
"You still need to be careful though," the hooded figured next to Jon told him. It was clearly a female and a familiar one at that. "Just because you're able to walk again doesn't mean that you ready to go galivanting about."
"I'm doing just fine," Jon told his companion in a tone that made it clear that this argument had been going on for a while. "Danica herself said she's been impressed by my recovery."
"Speaking of," Wulfric interjected. "How are you doing? Last I knew you had been burned pretty badly."
With a slight grimace, Jon pulled the sleeve on his left arm back to his elbow. The skin was a light pink in color, as if had healed from a recent sunburn. Wulfric spotted the edge of bandages just above the elbow but were hidden by the remainder of his shirt. Wulfric's eyes followed Jon's arm up to his shoulder and spotted more pinkened flash at the man's collar bone.
Wulfric remembered the shoddy shape that his cousin had been in after the dragon's defeat. Even with skilled healers and health potions, the man was probably still in plenty of pain. He didn't know if dragon's fire was any stronger than regular fire, but he was damn sure that it wouldn't be weaker.
"I'm getting on alright," Jon said as he dropped his sleeve back down. "A lot better than I was a few days ago."
"And you're still an idiot for thinking you can just walk something like this off." Jon's companion cut in again vehemently, a strand of silvery-grey hair fell loose from her hood as she spoke. "You should still be home recovering until your strong enough to actually stay upright for more than an hour!"
The voice and now the hair confirmed Wulfric's suspicion. He leaned forward and lightly lifted the woman's hood back, revealing the fierce frown of Olfina Gray-Mane. Wulfric pulled the hood back down and stepped back, eyes wide.
"Well, despite my little understanding of Whiterun's clans, even I know that this is unexpected."
Olfina sighed beneath her hood. "Our families were close for centuries until this idiotic war torn them apart. I refused to let something like that divide Jon and I."
Jon nodded solemnly and took Olfina's hand within his own. "As it is though, we do the best we can to keep this hushed from everyone. All it would take is a single bit of gossip to ruin this. We usually just write to one another, burning the letters as we go."
"That sounds incredibly difficult to manage." Wulfric said as he stared at the couple. "Why stay in Whiterun then? Obviously, things would be harder on you but apparently my parents did the exact same thing and they managed well enough."
A beat passed before he bent down and looked closely at Olfina's robes. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
The woman swatted him on the head. Wulfric chuckled and righted himself. "Yeah, I didn't think so."
"The truth is, we were going to run away together," Jon admitted quietly. Wulfric noticed Olfina's tighten her grip on Jon's hand. "We planned to run away a few days from now but I'm in no shape after the dragon attack. Not to mention that my father is keeping an even closer eye on me recently, both from my wounds and from usurping his authority during your duel."
"Actually, speaking of that," Jon carefully released Olfina's hand and reached inside of his cloak. Wulfric watched him rustle around for a moment before he pulled a large soft leather pouch out, cinched at the top by a coiled steel banding. "I had planned to try and visit with you later today anyway. This is the agreed amount that Clan Battle-Born has agreed to pay as admittance of the wrongful slander that was spoken against you by my father and cousin."
Wulfric took the pouch from Jon and uncoiled the cinch. He could already tell from the weight but it was full of shiny golden Septims. The agreed amount had been for 700 though Wulfric couldn't tell if it was all here or not.
Jon answered the question before Wulfric could ask. "That's 400 of the agreed upon 700. It was the most I could fit into that pouch. I can bring you the remaining 300 in a few days."
Wulfric stared down at the money for a moment. With a slight nod to himself, the large man retightened the coil, sealing the pouch and tied it to his belt. He looked at the young couple in front of him. Jon had to be 24 at best, Olfina looked even younger. Wulfric had just turned 27 himself and he knew how difficult the world could be.
"Keep it for yourselves," Wulfric told them. "If you're to run off into the night then you'll need every advantage you can get."
"But our arraignment–" Jon tried to argue. Wulfric held up a hand to silence him.
"Our deal is settled as far as I'm concerned. You're a good man Jon, if a bit on the naive side. The world outside of Whiterun is harsh and unforgiving. You will need every bit of help you can find and some luck to go with it."
Jon looked like he wanted to continue his protest until Olfina placed her hand on his arm. The thin man went quiet as she spoke. "Thank you for this, but why are you helping us? We barely know each other."
"I've dealt with enough people to know good ones when I see them. You have a kind heart, Olfina, and Jon has helped me out of troublesome times. Why wouldn't I want to help that? Besides, Jon's technically family now…which means you might be too down the road."
The larger man grinned at them conspiratorially. "Speaking of, if you're ever in the area of High Rock, head to Wrothgar. I'm sure my parents, my mother in particular, would love to meet you."
With a wink, Wulfric turned and left the couple. He didn't expect to see them in Whiterun again.
Wulfric eventually found Dagny Clear-Water – the reason he had went to the temple in the first place – but she was of little help to him.
Despite her vast knowledge of healing spells, the elderly woman saw little difference between burns from dragon's fire and other types of magical fire. Wulfric has been hoping that there was some sort of difference between them that he could exploit. He didn't expect that the dragon he had killed would be the last one he faced.
Dagny had a little more information on the Greybeards but nothing incredibly helpful to him. Apparently, they took a vow of silence, making it all the more rare that they had called out to him. She had told him of her times climbing the Seven Thousand Steps to mediate and pray. Wulfric was shocked to learn that yes; the Seven Thousand Steps were actually 7,000 steps that lead up the mountain.
He had hoped the term had been more symbolic rather than literal. He'd need to stock up on some stamina potions before he left. He'd never understand why the most holy of places were usually located at the tops of mountains.
Dagny gave him one final healing just to make sure he was back to full health. The last of his cuts had faded away, but a long scar now ran the length of his left calf where Janessa had sliced him open. It would serve as a reminder that while he had great strength, someone with greater skill or speed could cut him down.
A hard lesson to learn but one that needed to be learned nonetheless.
Leaving the temple Wulfric made his way over to Jorrvaskr, climbing the stone steps up to the Skyforge. As expected, Eorlund was there working the forge and hammering away at the hot red metal. Wulfric watched the man work for a moment, appreciating his craft until the older man noticed him.
"Fancy seeing you up and about!" Eorlund exclaimed. He set down his hammer and happily shook Wulfric's hand. "Good to see you haven't made the trip to Sovngarde just yet."
Wulfric laughed. "It was a closer call than I expected to be sure!"
"Tell me," Eorlund asked him with a firm gaze. "Was it you or the dragon that put that fool Idolaf on his ass? No one has seen him in days. Word is that he's still laid up at the Battle-Born farmhouse."
Wulfric's laughed faded into a grim expression. His duel with Idolaf and then fight with the dragon left him feeling uneasy with the Battle-Born's, excluding Jon. He didn't trust that Olfrid wouldn't hire another mercenary to kill him down the road.
"Aye, that was me. Bastard hired a mercenary and then sneak attacked me to start the duel. He should be thanking Talos that his cousin stepped in a spared his life."
Eorlund looked surprised. "His cousin? You mean Jon? That boy called a stop to the duel over Olfrid?"
Wulfric nodded. "Yeah, and the old man didn't take too kindly to it. Jon stepped in right as I was about to crush the fool's head when he wouldn't yield. Jon publicly apologized on behalf of his clan and offered payment as settlement."
The old blacksmith scratched at his beard as he took in the information. "I have to say I'm surprised by this news. Olfrid is a stubborn bastard so for Jon to speak over him certainly won't set well within their clan, boot lickers that they are."
Wulfric saw an opening to pay forward some kindness. "From my dealings with him, Jon seems to have more common sense than the rest of his clan combined. Whatever his stance is about this war, Jon has only treated me with decency and honor. He also defied his father's condemnation of me after the dragon was killed and this was after it set him on fire. Tough one, he is."
Eorlund nodded slowly, his face grimacing a bit as through he had to take a bitter tonic. "It would seem that some measure of honor remains with the Clan Battle-Born then…perhaps I should speak to him about Thorald."
The last words were said just above a whisper so Wulfric was barely able to make it out.
"Thorald? Who is Thorald?"
Before he could answer, a deep voice called out from below the stone platform that the Skyforge rested on. "Eorlund!"
Eorlund must have recognized it as he immediately walked over to edge and peered over. "What can I do for you, Kodlak?"
Wulfric followed the older smith as looked over the edge as well. Down below them was an older man standing in the training grounds of Jorrvaskr. He had white hair that reached down to his shoulders with a few braids in it as well as a thick white beard. A small tribalistic swirl of face paint covered the area under his right eye and beard. He was wearing simple but well-made clothes and a book was tucked under his left arm and a slight smile was on his face.
Even from this distance, Wulfric could tell that this was a person of some authority and importance. If pressed to describe the man, Wulfric would liken him to wizened old bear. Not one who sought out battle, but would end one quickly if it came upon him.
Subconsciously, he felt himself straightening his spine.
"We've a few new recruits that hope to join our ranks. I was hoping you'd be able to find some time to repair some of our older bits of armor for them until they figure out what suits them. Just a patch job, but I know you've been busy lately."
Wulfric shot a quick glance over at the old smith. If he was as busy as Kodlak claimed, Wulfric was even more honored that the man had repaired his maul so quickly.
"Aye, I supposed I can find some time to do that. When is Skjor expected to be back?"
"In another week or so. He had to travel all the way to Riften for this contract."
Eorlund massaged his beard for a moment before nodding. "Have someone bring the pieces up later today. I can fix them up before I start on Skjor's new axe that he wanted."
"Very well, I'll have Farkas bring them to you before supper," he eyes drifted over to Wulfric. "Based on your size along, I'm guessing that you must be Wulfric the Dragon Slayer?"
The larger man rolled his eyes. He'd heard whispers of this as he'd made his way through town but was hoping it hadn't spread much. "I'd hardly call myself that. I just landed the final blow."
"There's power in names, boy," Kodlak called up to him. "Most bandits would like twice about attacking a man who's slain a mythical beast like that."
The leader of the Companions spared a quick glance up at the sun. "The morning is getting rather late and I have some research that needs to be done." He said, gesturing at the book under his arm. "If you're available, why don't you visit Jorrvaskr for supper tonight? I was friends with your father and I'd like to speak with you, if you're willing."
Wulfric nodded. "It would be my pleasure."
"Excellent. I'll see you then. Don't bother knocking – no one else does – and come straight in. Just ask for me once you arrive."
With a firm nod to both men, Kodlak returned to Jorrvaskr. Eorlund looked over at Wulfric in mild surprise.
"Kodlak does not invite many to dinner without knowing them first," the old smith said. "For the Harbinger of the Companions to call on you in such a friendly manner is an honor."
"I'll keep that in mind," Wulfric said as he stared down at the mead hall. "I just wonder why he's so interested in meeting me?"
Eorlund shrugged and made his way back over to the forge. "Only one way to find out."
Wulfric remained with Eorlund until lunch, just watched the man work and offering the occasional assistance. The experienced certainly didn't need the help – and Wulfric wasn't exactly up to strenuous work for no reason – but the two enjoyed the others company. He never did get the man to open up about who Thorald was.
As the sun reached a high point in the sky, Wulfric bid the older man a farewell and headed back to Dragonsreach. He enjoyed a modest lunch of roasted duck with a few boiled potatoes and fresh bread before retiring to his room.
Wulfric drifted off to sleep rather quickly but was happy to awaken with no dreams of Alduin. The large man stood and stretched. Between the healers, potions and good food he was feeling better than he had in the last few days.
Provided there were no setbacks, he'd begin the journey to meet the Greybeards tomorrow morning.
After this nap, Wulfric headed down to the main hall and spoke with Irileth. The Dark Elf wasn't the warmest person Wulfric had ever met, but there was a mutual respect between them after the dragon attack.
Wulfric took in all the information she could tell him about the area surrounding Whiterun and High Hrothgar. While she had never made the journey herself, she knew enough about the lands to tell him what to expect.
Irileth told him about the common, lesser threats of Skyrim, the packs of wolves and simple bandits. Next were the more dangerous threats to inexperienced travelers like Frostbite Spiders (which Wulfric knew from the caves under Helgen could grow quite large), Necromancers, bears and Sabercats. She warned of venturing too near enchanted glades for fear of Hagravens and Spriggans.
She was especially clear about avoiding any ruins, ancient Nord or Dwemer, because of a whole mess of beasts that he could find, particularly gargoyles, vampires or old Dwemer machines that were somehow operational after thousands of years.
Irileth also mentioned that he should also steer clear of any mammoths he came come across. The mammoths themselves were rather docile unless attacked but the giants who kept them would attack on sight. Wulfric remembered seeing the corpse of a giant when he first came to Whiterun and was in no hurry to try and fight one on his own.
At this point, Wulfric interrupted her. "Be honest with me. Is there anything out there that doesn't want me dead?"
She smirked at him. "Probably not. Skyrim is the harshest land in all of Tamriel as far as I'm concerned. You either become strong or you die when you leave the safety of city walls."
Wulfric shook his head and prepared to leave. The pair had talked for so long that supper would soon be upon them and he didn't want to be late.
Before he left, Irileth pressed on last thing upon him.
"You've told me that the Empire was about to execute you before the dragon attacked Helgen, taking you for a Stormcloak rebel." The Dark Elf told him plainly. "If I were in your position, I would do my best to avoid either party. Any niceties towards one can be taken as hostility against the other. This is the line I've seen Balgruuf forced to walk to keep his city safe."
Wulfric stared at her intently.
"It is not an easy path to walk," she continued. "I've seen him bargain and make allowances he isn't happy with to make sure that Whiterun remains a neutral ground. I fear at some point he will be forced to choose. The Empire is harsh, more so now than I have ever seen them, but the Stormcloaks are every bit as troublesome. Ulfric isn't some folk hero like his supporters believe. The man is a ruthless military leader and will do whatever he can to win this war.
Wulfric nodded slowly. His experiences in Helgen had definitely swayed him towards the Stormcloaks cause, but he knew that there were two sides to every story. Just because a rebellion may be just in cause, didn't mean it was morally correct.
Wulfric nodded at Irileth. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
Mind still swimming with how his conversation with Irileth ended, Wulfric made his way to Jorrvaskr.
The legendary mead hall was every thing his father had described it as; Loud and rowdy but with a great air of brotherhood. The former ship that had been converted into the hall's roof was simply brilliant to see up close. Wulfric had never heard of and definitely never seen anything like it through his travels through Tamriel.
He pushed through the thick wooden double doors into the mead hall. The building seemed designed to have two levels, comprising of nearly the entire building. A small set of steps lead down to a cobblestone floor where a blazing fire pit stood at the center of the room, stretching out a good ten feet across the floor. A collection of long tables set in a u-shape enclosed the fire pit from the opposite side of the hall's entrance. Behind, Wulfric could see another set of double doors that likely lead the training grounds.
Surrounding the cobblestone area was a wooden walkway. Various book cases lined the walls with a few circular tables here and there. Barrels of mead were stacked in multiple locations and weapon racks were hung on the walls everywhere. Wulfric could see a staircase to his right, leading down to the living quarters. To his left, there was a smaller room where he could see various maps on the walls and piles of scrolls on tables; a strategy room, if he had to guess.
Several people were spread out across the large room, most sitting at the large center table eating. Wulfric recognized a few different people he had seen while walking about the city but the only who he knew was Aela. The redheaded huntress was slouched at a corner table, a chicken leg in one hand and a pint of ale in the other. She spotted Wulfric from across the room and gave him a wide smirk with a nod.
The larger man nodded back. He watched as she turned in her chair and spoke to a larger man sitting next to her in a full suit of steel armor. She tilted her heads towards Wulfric and the man snapped his head around to look at him. Wulfric watched the man stand up and lumber over towards him.
He was taller than nearly everyone else Wulfric had seen around Whiterun and nearly as broad as Wulfric himself. He had thick shaggy dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and sunken in eyes of the same color. A thin beard covered most of his face but was split by a wide smile as he reached Wulfric.
"You're the guy with the big hammer, right?"
A spark of recognition shot through Wulfric. "I'm assuming you must be Farkas. Aela told me that you were the one to take my maul to Eorlund for repairs."
The Companion held out a hand. Wulfric shook it and his eyes widened a bit at the man's strength. The man was stronger than most orcs!
"That's right," Farkas acknowledged as he released Wulfric's hand. "Eorlund told me that you were the one to make it. I've always been partial to greatswords myself but that thing was amazing. I had to give it a few swings before I brought it to him."
Wulfric laughed. "I can understand that. Gods know that I toyed around with my fair share of weapons I've made for my customers. I'm surprised that you were able to wield it though. I know its balance is far different compared to most warhammers; it was more suited to fit me than anyone else. You must be quite skilled."
"A bit of skill but more strength than anything," Aela said as she approached the pair. She patted Farkas on the shoulder like he was a pet bear. "Farkas here is probably the physically strongest person in the Companions, but he knows that strength isn't everything."
Farkas rolled his eyes and grunted. Aela chuckled at him before she spoke. "He's still upset that he came in dead last in the archery competition we had last month. He's probably a bit put off since he's not used to looking up at anyone either. Anyway, what are you doing here? Change your mind about joining us?"
Wulfric shook his head. "I met Kodlak earlier today when I was at the Skyforge with Eorlund. He invited me to supper here. I was actually looking for him now."
The redhead nodded in understanding. "He's probably lost track of time again. He's a great Harbinger, but he can lose himself to his books at times. I think he's down with Vilkas going over the monthly budget right now."
Farkas nodded. "Vilkas did say something about that when we sparred earlier. Wait here and I'll go tell Kodlak that you're here."
The big man lumbered away, disappearing down the staircase and out of sight. Aela watched him go before turning back to Wulfric. "Kodlak doesn't invite many people over just to share a meal. I'd keep that in mind if I were you."
With that, she sauntered back to her table, snatching a steaming pastry off of another table as she walked past.
Wulfric watched her go, trying to decide why Kodlak had invited him. Both Eorlund and now Aela had told him that Kodlak's invitation was not of the norm. He wasn't sure what to think about that or if it meant anything at all really.
In short order, he watched at Farkas's head reappeared from the staircase. As he climbed the steps, Wulfric noticed that a second man was following him. While shorter and less broad than Farkas, he had the same sunken eyes and dark hair. Wulfric assumed that they were brothers based on how similar they looked but immediately could tell that Vilkas was much more reserved than Farkas, his face set in a stern frown.
The two men approached Wulfric, Vilkas taking in the visitor keenly. The man had a quiet intensity that his brother did not. If Farkas had the size of a bear, Vilkas was born with the cunning of a wolf. Wulfric met the man's gaze evenly, not wanting to show disrespect but also not wanting to appear weak. He'd lived around enough orcs to know when one was sizing him up. After a moment, Vilkas gave him a simple nod and walked over to join Aela.
"Kodlak says to meet in him in his room for supper. Tilma will bring something down for the two of you shortly. Just head down the stairs and you'll find Kodlak's room. He's the only person down there right now anyway."
Wulfric thanked the man and made his way down the staircase. The barracks of the Companions were simple but well maintained. The stone floor was surprisingly clean for a group of warriors and the decorations reminded him of the same ones his father had made for their home. It was clear where he'd gotten the designs from.
It didn't take long to find Kodlak in his room. The door was wide open, displaying a singular room with more decorations and book shelfs that Wulfric had seen anyway else in Jorrvaskr. The older man was bent over an ancient looking book, reading something and taking notes at the same time. He seemed to noticed Wulfric's presence almost immediately, quietly replacing his quill in its well and closing the book.
"Hello Wulfric," he greeted pleasantly. The Harbinger gestured to an empty chair across the table. "Would you mind shutting the door behind you? I trust you didn't have trouble finding me?"
"Not at all," Wulfric said as he sat down. "Aela just introduced me to Farkas. I was thanking him for taking my hammer to be repaired."
"Ah yes, your hammer," Kodlak said in a bemused tone. He stood and quickly cleared the table of the various books, scrolls and ink wells that covered it. "Farkas was very excited when he brought it down to Eorlund. You'd think he didn't already carry around a greatsword himself."
The older man sat down at the table across from Wulfric. Wulfric could see that despite his age, Kodlak looked to be in good health and strong standing. Wulfric had seen older mercenaries and bodyguards during his apprenticeship and knew that they were the last type of person to tangle with. What they often had lost the strength of their youth, they had gained the wisdom and experience of many battles. Kodlak fit this group more than perhaps any other man Wulfric had met.
"As I'm sure you've been made aware," Kodlak started. "I'm not one who often requests the company of others when business isn't at hand. I was already interested in you after hearing about your involvement in both dragon attacks but it was your name that made me reach out to you."
"You knew my father." It wasn't a question.
"I did," Kodlak admitted easily. "Your father and I were both high ranking members within the Companions. We joined the Companions at roughly the same time. I believe I was here just a week or so before Vulwulf arrived. We were fierce friends and even fiercer rivals."
The older man pulled a pipe from a side satchel at his waist. He stuffed it with a small bit of dried herbs and lit it with a nearby candle. In seconds a thick but fragrant smoke enveloped the room.
"Vulwulf was actually the one who got me started on this," Kodlak mentioned, gesturing to the pipe. "Been a fan of it ever since. But I didn't invite you here just to hear an old man reminisce about his youth. I wanted to speak to you about your parents and your time in Skyrim."
Wulfric nodded slowly, unsure of where this conversation was going. "What would you like to know?"
"When your father left Whiterun, he had been made aware of something about the Circle."
"The Circle?"
"The Circle is the a select group of the highest ranking members of the Companions. It is a very elite group in which only a few are ever selected to join. Your father was invited to join two days before he left Whiterun with your mother. After he left, I was invited to join myself and I became the new Harbinger less than a year later."
"Whatever my father learned, he never shared it with me." Wulfric told him. "My father often spoke fondly of his times as a Companion but kept a lot of details very vague. I don't believe he looks back on his time in Whiterun with much fondness."
Kodlak sighed but nodded. "I figured as much. I'd love to pick your brain to see if your father belayed anything to you offhandedly, but I fear that I would reveal to much of the Circle's matters in the process."
"I'm sorry," Wulfric apologized. He wasn't sure what else to say. This conversation was not at all what he had expected.
Kodlak waved off his apology. "Never you mind, boy. It was a long shot. I've never been able to track down your father properly to ask him myself and I feared you wouldn't know anyway."
He reached over to a nearby bookshelf and plucked a folded piece of parchment from it. He slid it across the table to Wulfric.
"I've heard that you're not long from Skyrim," Kodlak told him. "I was hoping that you would be willing to deliver that to your father for me when you see him."
Wulfric picked up the letter and gave it a once over. It had been folded simply with the bright red wax seal of the Companions sealing it shut. With a shrug, he carefully placed it within his pocket.
"I don't see why that would be a problem. I do have to visit the Greybeards before I leave but after that I'm heading back home."
"Ah the Greybeards, Skyrim's most famous recluses." Kodlak said as he puffed on his pipe. "I'm sure that their summoning was heard all the way in Winterhold with as loud as they were. Surprised there wasn't an avalanche from it."
Wulfric saw an opportunity. "What do you know about them? Balgruuf has told me a bit but he seems to hold them in high standard, almost like one speak about a temple's priest."
Kodlak snorted. "I'm not surprised. Balgruuf, much like myself, is a proud Nord. The Greybeards hold a special meaning throughout Skyrim for their vows of silence and dedication to the Way of the Voice. I'm sure you've seen how well Ulfric is viewed from his time with them. All in all, the Greybeards seem a trustworthy group with what little we know about them. They are certainly worse groups in Skyrim."
A knock at the door interrupted them. After Kodlak told them to enter, two men quickly brought in two plates loaded with steaming fish and baked potatoes. They placed the plates in front of Kodlak and Wulfric, giving the Harbinger a quick bow before vanishing back out the door, shutting it behind them.
Kodlak chuckled lightly and looked at Wulfric. "Newer recruits. They run around here like they expect me to have one of them drawn and quartered if I so much as frown at them. They'll get the proper lay of things in a week or two."
The older man stood and walked over to a nearby shelf and plucked a bottle of wine from it, along with two glasses. He placed one in front of Wulfric and poured him a healthy amount. He did the same to his own glass as he sat down.
"Ulfric was a Greybeard then?"
"I don't quite know the full extent of it, but I would say no," Kodlak told him. "He definitely studied with the Greybeards for a few years, but I don't believe he ever planned to fully become one himself. The man was too protective of his homeland to be a spectator."
Kodlak picked up his wine glass. "To you and your family's health."
Wulfric raised his glass as well, oddly touched at the man's kindness. He took a long draught of the wine, enjoying its sweetness.
Kodlak did the same before he began digging into his supper. Wulfric followed his lead. The two men chatted casually throughout, Kodlak telling stories of his and Vulwulf's time in the Companions. Wulfric shared several stories of his childhood, describing his father's relationships with the various Orc tribes that littered the mountains near their home.
It was simple and enjoyable, something Wulfric had lacked since he woke up in a prison cart heading for Helgen.
Eventually though, the talks turned to a more serious nature.
"You spoke of Ulfric earlier," Wulfric said. "Where do you stand on his rebellion?"
Kodlak sighed, pushing away his empty plate. "Gods above, the rebellion is one of the most idiotic ways that all of this could have played out. I believe Ulfric to be a good man and that he is following the old laws of the Nords. That doesn't make what he's doing smart."
"So, you're for the Empire then?" Wulfric asked.
"Hardly," Kodlak stated plainly. "The Empire seems to have become too reliant on Skyrim to provide them its strength. The damned White-Gold Concordat was a terrible decision and its soured nearly every Nord of them, even those that remain loyal to their cause. To tell us not to worship Talos…"
Kodlak made a face of disgust and went about relighting his pipe. After a moment, he peered through the smoke at Wulfric.
"So you're a follow of Talos then?" Wulfric asked. He never thought himself as very skilled in the business side of his career, but he knew that more information about a person was always better.
"Like any proper Nord, I was a follower," Kodlak admitted freely. "Per the rules of the Empire, I've stopped but one can never deny what lies in their heart. It's funny actually…I wasn't much of a believer of anything in my youth.
"I paid my respects to the Nine, just as my parents did before me and their parents before them. To ignore higher powers is simply foolish. But as I grew, I found them less….important in my daily life. I strayed far from the Nine, especially when I became more involved with the Companions."
Wulfric nodded. "I can understand that. My father was always rather ambivalent with the Nine, but he always held respect for Talos. My mother trained to be a priestess of Kyne, so that was made important to me as well."
"It's funny," Kodlak said, but his face looked grim. "How a man's beliefs become so much more important to his as his time grows short."
Wulfric raised an eyebrow at that and looked the man up-and-down. "Are you sick?"
Kodlak shook his head ruefully. "Hardly. My health is as good as it's ever been but no man can live forever. Time will come for us all in the end. When that properly hits you, you begin to think of things bigger than yourself, beyond the norm of the world."
Kodlak seemed to feel like he was saying too much. He seemed to shake himself mentally and refocused the conversation.
"While Talos is at the center of this war, it is the men who drive it. Ulfric's rebellion only matters for as long as it goes on. As the country tears itself apart, I trust that the Aldmeri Dominion are keeping a very close eye on things. I don't trust those elves any more than I would a vampire in an orphanage."
He tapped some of the ash from his pipe. "I've kept the Companions as a whole neutral in the matter. Can't have a guild filled with the country's greatest warriors go declaring sides after all. Anyone that wishes to go join may do so, but not as a Companion. Our numbers are lower they've been in years because of this. Tell me, where do you stand?"
"I can't say in good faith that I trust the Empire," Wulfric told him. "I was about to be executed along with several Stormcloaks before the dragon attacked Helgen. They were…unconcerned that I wasn't actually one of them."
Kodlak nodded, mouth tilted into a frown. "I can see how that would sour a man on their cause."
Wulfric snorted at that. "I did meet Ulfric during my escape. I can understand why so many men are filling to follow him. There is a certain power to him, an aura of some sort."
"Yes, I've met him before and I know what you mean," Kodlak agreed. "I would be very wary of both sides if I were you. News that there is a dragon-born will travel quickly and both sides, along with the Aldmeri Dominion, will want to know more about you. Best you have your dealings with the Greybeards and be off, if that's what you still intend to do."
Wulfric finished off his third glass on wine and stood to leave. "That's the plan. Thank you for the food and hospitality, Kodlak. It's been a pleasure to meet you. I'll make sure to give your message to my father after my business with the Greybeards in finished."
Kodlak stood as well and shook the larger man's hand.
"It was a pleasure to meet you as well. I appreciate you doing me this favor. Should you ever have need of the Companions, I'll make sure to give you a good price. Of course, you're always welcome to join as well."
Wulfric laughed. "I've got enough on my plate for now."
Sorry for the long gap between updates. Not the easiest chapter to write. The conversation between Wulfric and Kodlak kept getting hijacked by Kodlak. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I'll try to get the next chapter out quicker. Additionally, please let me know if you come across any typos or inconsistencies while reading. I can only proofread so much and I absolutely hate typos. Drop me a line and I'll get them fixed ASAP.
Thanks for reading so far! See you in the next one!