Jon needed a bank, he thought as he woke up. He didn't know if they had banks here. He hopped they did. He couldn't just keep all of his treasure on him, and right now he had no place to store his hoard yet. He was of course a homeowner now, a fantasy in his time and place, but the place needed renovated. Why store it there, when you could just put it in a bank. A bank might also have better security, insurance, and interest. That would be his first concern of the day. After he untangled himself from Irileth in whatever room they found themselves in. It looked nice, all in all.
He got up and the thankfully sober servants had taken and washed his robes. They even repaired the damage to it, but unfortunately his gloves and boots were toast. Jon rubbed his hand together. He felt a drop in pressure, an approaching tundra rain. A new scar, Jon thought. It was hard to get those for an Augment. He checked and his ear was still notched. He still wondered if he was an augment anymore, and what that would mean if he wasn't. That wasn't his concern right now. The bank was.
And saying goodbye to his lover. He gently nudged her awake and whispered, "See you around, Dragon-slayer."
He left her to fall back to sleep and walked barefoot towards the keep door. He would need a new pair of boots before he went to the bank. There might be rules there. Boots, then bank. Raven haired beauty approaching him, then boots, then bank. Wait, he needed a bath too.
The woman was tall, taller than him by a couple inches, though that may just be her boots and his lack-thereof. She had pale skin, pale lips, a permanent red blush to her cheeks from capillaries close to the surface, and cold blue eyes. Her hair was also black as night with several braids tied into them, and hanging down. She wore steel plate like the Orsimer bandit had, and it seemed just as well used and maintained, with a banded steel shield on her arm and one handed sword on her hip. Underneath the steel, hide, and fur, she was packed with muscle onto a thick frame and could probably bench press the Augment, nay Dovah or some bullshit. She was walking towards him with purpose and restraint all the same.
She said, "Hail, my Thane. I am Lydia, your new Housecarl. I am your sword and shield, sworn by oath to carry your burdens, and if necessary give my life to protect you and your property. It is a great honor to Housecarl to the Dragonborn himself." she gave a short bow.
Jon returned the bow and said, "Alright, I accept your oath. First thing, lets not throw that title around. Id rather that only be revealed when necessary, I.e when I decide. You can see my hood. I don't want a cult, and one almost started as soon as they looked me in the eye. Oblivion, it probably did start and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
Lydia nodded, "Of course my Thane, My apologies."
Jon said, "Secondly, please just call me Jon."
Lydia hesitated, her mouth trying to form words. She said, "Yes, Jon."
Jon continued, "Thirdly, you are, under no circumstances, to sacrifice you life for mine or my property. Especially property."
She looked completely flustered now. She stammered, "My Tha-Jon, my Oa-"
Jon cut her off with a swipe of his fist. He said, "Lydia, I don't need you for your warrior skills, well I kind of do. I have warrior skills. What I need you for is your knowledge. I know basically nothing about this land except what I've seen on a map and in Whiterun court. Please take me at my word when I say that most mortal wounds are not mortal to me. Even if we do run into something that kills me, I don't need your heroic sacrifice, I need you to heroically run the fuck away and warn others about what's coming for them. Clear?"
Lydia said nothing for a few seconds, shifting side to side slightly while she centered herself. She said, "Yes, Jon. I understand. If that is how I must serve you, then I am oath-sworn to do so."
Jon nodded with a smile. He said, "Good, keep that steel and shield on you, I have a feeling we will be getting into plenty of trouble together. Now please direct me to where I can buy a sturdy pair of boots."
Lydia smiled and they began walked out of the keep, and into the city. She said, "If you're looking for armored boots, Warmaiden's is by the gate. Belethor runs a general store just a street down from the main market circle, I've bought casual boots from there before, but hes a little sleazy."
Jon asked, "Enough to make you not want to do business with him?"
Lydia, "Not quite, because he is fair on coin and buys and sells everything. But sometimes he says something offensive off hand."
Jon said, "Well alright, lets stop there first. I have other things a man buys and sells anything would buy and sell. Has the civil war affected prices at all? I don't have context except to say it probably would."
Lydia said, "Whiterun hasn't got the worst of it. The Jarl has kept trade open, and the Empire lets him because they don't technically recognize the rebellion, meaning there's no reason trade should be disrupted at all."
Jon asked, "Do the Stormcloaks have ports?"
Lydia replied, "Yes, they've been blockaded. The only trade they receive is by land from Whiterun. And certain war materials are not allowed. Its mostly food that's kept flowing."
Jon asked, "What about travel in general."
Lydia replied, "Again, mostly uninterrupted due to the unofficial nature of the war. Just don't cross the border in the wrong colors. There actually haven't been too many losses yet. A couple thousand over a several skirmishes and its settled into a stalemate. With the dragons, I suspect it will continue as everyone tires to defend themselves."
Jon asked, "Huh, I wonder who would benefit from that."
Lydia said, "The Thalmor obviously, the bastards."
They were passing Heimskr's continual rant. Jon held up his fist and said, "Praise be, brother!"
Heimskr wildly pointed his charm and beads towards the wizard that slew a dragon. He said, "Yes! Praise be, my brother! The dragon-slayer in robes knows! Praise be! Praise be to Talos!"
Lydia couldn't stop her chuckles. She said as they went down the steps to the market, "I would never commit blasphemy against the Nines, but is it funny to rile up Heimskr. I worry about him though, the Thalmor could just come and take him at any time."
Jon said, "He probably wants and expects that. He's a fundamentalist that would happily martyr himself for Talos. In this case his fundamentalism is justified. There's no way in Oblivion Talos didn't actually ascend to god-hood with all the crazy bullshit I've seen so far. In any case, the Thalmor will not take that man in my presence."
Lydia nodded and smiled at her Thane in front of her. She didn't know what to expect when she was told she was chosen to Housecarl to the Chosen of Akatosh, but already he had won her respect despite his orders to violate her oaths. The felt like the beginning of an adventure worthy of epics, one that she knew in her cold bones would take her to Sovngarde.
They entered Belethor's shop, and it was covered top to bottom in various wares. Carpets, Books, chairs, weapons, armor, and all manner of other goods. Belethor was leaning over the main counter that Jon had to step around various things to reach.
Belethor said, "Welcome, a new customer, an old customer, oh and one of them is the hopefully rich dragon-slayer that saved the city! Thanks for that, by the way. Can't buy and sell if I'm kissing my ass goodbye in a sewer. Now what can I get you?"
Jon laughed. He said, "First, some sturdy boots. Preferably good for Skyrim cold."
Belethor sagely nodded, "I got something for you, but you have to bear with me and promise to hear me out."
Jon nodded. Belethor said, "Skeever leather boots. I got a guy that makes them, he leaves the pelt mostly intact for insulation. Let me tell you they're great. That water in that sewer is near ice cold and I walked though it with dry and warm feet the entire time to get to the cistern."
Jon said, "I'm definitely interested. But why do you feel like you have to sell them like they're the plague, and what makes them special."
Belethor liked where this conversation was going. It ended with more gold in his pocket. He said, "Well first, would you want a boot made from rats?"
Jon also liked where this conversation was going. It ended with warm boots on his feet, and an established relationship for when he sold his own wares and took the merchants gold. He said, "If it works."
Belethor nodded. He said, "Well you're a little different then most, you have a more open mind. Let me tell you why they work. Because the Skeever is a tough little adaptable bastard. They can live anywhere. There's a reason there aren't variants of Skeevers like there are other creatures. Their leather keeps you dry, and the pelt keeps you warm. It also readily takes enchantment, better than just about any other hide. Its why wizards like yourself test things on it. Most people don't want rat boots however, so I don't sell to many pairs. Mostly to adventurers like you that don't care."
Jon asked, "How much, and I'd like to see them first."
Belethor lifted the exquisite quality boots up to the counter and said, "500 gold. A little pricey, but these are handcrafted, and the sole and heal is mammoth leather. Not the easiest thing to get."
Jon said, "400."
Belethor smiled, "Ah, you got me, 450."
Jon looked back to Lydia. She said, "Boots truly fit for a king will go for five to six hindered gold. Every thing I've bought from him has done as said."
Jon said, "If they fit, then you have a deal."
Luckily for Jon, Nords were big on average, so most everything would fit him. They weren't measured as a slightly better pair of boots would be, but they would do. He could already feel the Skeever pelt keeping the ambient Skyrim chill off his feet.
Jon pulled some of his treasures out of his pouches and pack, a couple handfuls ancient coins and gems. He said, "How much for these."
Belethor wasn't the happiest that he now had to part with some gold, but you can't sell if you never buy. He said, "Pull these out of an ancient Nord tomb?"
Lydia shifted slightly behind Jon. She was quiet in that heavy armor, but no quiet enough. He said, "Yup, that a problem?"
Belethor said, "Nope. I buy and sell anything. If I had a sister, I'd sell her in a second. I know a few places and people I can peddle these too. Mythic era coins aren't the most rare find out there, but people and museums still buy them. Ill give you 300 Septims for the lot."
Jon understood what Lydia now meant, but he kept his wits about him in these negotiations. He said, "Six. There are a fair few of precious gems here."
Belethor said, "Sure, but those aren't at their maximum value until they're set in something. I have to pay for the smith, probably a premium for ancient Nord styling to sell the look and providence. Tell you what, 450. we'll call it an even trade for your nearly fit for King boots."
Jon nodded took back his coin. He turned to Lydia and said, "Is that armor, sword, and shield all you own?"
She shifted once again, this time because she had to tell her Thane that he was expected to outfit her. Not every Thane enjoyed hearing that, but this man was no merchant. She was at least lucky to have decent armor and Sky-Forged steel passed down from her mother. Most Housecarls did not swear their oaths so armed and armored.
Lydia said, "I have a few personal belongings stored away, but I am equipped at your pleasure, Jon."
Jon turned back to Belethor and said, "She needs a harness and a pack like mine. Enchanted, of course."
Belethor nodded sagely gain, happy to get back his coin. He said, "Consortium make. I've got got a harness, and a pack fit for a sturdy adventuring Shield-Maiden."
Jon heard Lydia shift behind him again, what he didn't see was her cheeks even flusher than they were. She was not his Shield-Maiden. Jon said, "How much."
Belethor said, "800 for both, and not a Septim less. I can't haggle on it due to the contract you need to sell Consortium goods. The price is firm."
Jon squinted under his hood. He said, "They're price fixing. Do they have some kind of monopoly?"
Belethor said, "Not exactly, but their goods have no equal for the price. Its mostly adventuring and military wares, and you can always go to a craftsman for a custom order of similar utility. It will cost about the same, if not more anyway, and that's before the enchantments. They also make armor for horses, and they do have a monopoly there, at least in the Empire. A standard steel pattern they use and sell Jigs for."
"Sold." Jon said while giving Belethor back his coin and a few measure of his own.
Then he pulled out his trump card. He said, "What can you tell me about this painting. Its a very good impressionist, and would be hanging in museums next to Van Gogh in my homeland. Fuck, I can almost see the trees swaying in the breeze."
Belethor paled at the sight of it. He stammered, "Look, I want to touch this. With every ounce of my Breton blood I want to touch and caress this. But I can't. Where in the Oblivion did you get this?"
Jon showed him the truth of his eyes, and Belethor paled further. Jon said, "If you would believe it, a random bandit stash in the tomb I got the coins from."
Belethor shook his head in astonishment. He said, "The bad part is, I do. It would be just like those idiots to not know what they had. This is an original Lythandas. An original original, not what came after in his self-described droll period. And if you see the comparison, you would agree. Each one of his paintings is a masterpiece, and half the paintings you see hanging around are copies of his work. But the ones he made in his droll period just never captured the magic of the originals, and he was said to always be, well, droll at public events."
Jon asked, "What makes his original work so special, and why cant you touch it? Is it known to be stolen?"
Belethor answered, "No one knows. Lythandas never gave up his secrets, or why his originals were different. And it's not known to be stolen, but it is known to be missing. There were only six paintings, and this is the missing one."
Jon sagely nodded, "And if it went to auction, everyone that already owns one would claim it's theirs. People would be coming out of the wood work with proof that is was stolen from their family however many moons ago."
Belethor sagely nodded. He said, "Even if its all mammoth shit, it would bring the whole process to a grinding halt. You would literally have a target for assassination on your back. Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild would be lining up like a procession on you."
Lydia cut in. She didn't care about her Thanes orders right now, not with an original Lythandas in front of her. She wasn't the most cultured person, but she wasn't a fool either. She said, "They would try."
Belethor chucked at the confidence of the Shield-Maiden in front of him, believing the truth in her eye. He said, "Let me put it this way, the last person to put one up to auction was a down on his luck noble. He was assassinated by the Brotherhood on contract for a rival that wanted it, and the only reason the two thousand or so measure of coin it sold for even got to his estate was because he promised the Thieves Guild a quarter of the proceeds to protect it. There were so many losses on both sides that it damn near started a full Guild war in the underworld."
Jon let out a slow breath, not only at the story, but the recognized underworld Guilds as well. He said, "Alright. I think I'll just keep it then."
Belethor looked relieved that the wizard wasn't going to push the issue. He said, "Thank you for letting me look at this though. It was an honor to see one in person. As it stands, you could probably find a private buyer yourself if you hang around in the fancy circles. But it would have to be someone you trust absolutely, and good luck with that in those circles. Anything else you need?"
Jon conceded the engagement. Why did he thing of the haggling as an engagement? He said, "No, I don't think so. Good day, Belethor."
Jon and Lydia walked out of the store and back into the Whiterun streets. Yesterdays grand party still hung in their gaits and eyes, but life was quickly turning back to normal as the near midday's crowd went about their business. Every once in a while Jon would get nods from those who recognized him as the man that slew the dragon and paraded its skull though the city. Most, even if they recognized him, left him and his Housecarl be. The wizard wasn't the first person to do something of note in service to Whiterun, and they knew the difference between glory and being impeded from your more mundane errands.
Jon felt a presence off to his side. He tried to pay it no mind, but then it spoke. It said, "Excuse me, Thane Jon."
Jon turned and somewhat cordially said, "Mr. Nazeem, how can I help you."
Nazeem scoffed with a smile. He said, "I know there was nothing official declared, but I concede our feud, as short as it was. I can not match slaying a dragon and parading its corpse though the cheering city."
Jon smiled and said, "Short, but hard fought. I saw you leading people into shelter. It takes a certain kind of person to keep themselves together and lead in a crisis, even if they're personally an ass."
Lydia couldn't help her snicker. Nazeem simply nodded, taking his final lick, and walked away. Was it his final lick? He didn't know. He had his eye on Breezehome after separating from his spouse. He was waiting for the price to drop some so he could move back into the city proper. Now it was given to the Thane by right of dragon-slaying, and about the only thing left for the man to do was fuck his estranged wife. He hopped it didn't come to that, because he had his eye on her again too. Maybe he was an ass, and that's why she kicked him out of his own home and exiled him to the farm, and why he wasn't getting anywhere at court.
Jon and Lydia left him behind, and they made for Warmaiden's by the gate. He asked, "Do you want to look at some of the weapons and armor I have? I don't have heavy armor. But the weapons I picked up from some bandits looked decent."
Lydia spit, "Bandits. Thank you, Jon, but this armor and sword was passed down from my mother. The blade Sky-Forged steel, the best in Tamriel."
Jon nodded. He had his Dragon'sbane, so he didn't inquire about the steel. He said, "Are your parents still around?"
Lydia took a solemn look and shook her head. She said, "No, Bandits got them. I was twelve at the time. My father was a legionnaire, and my mother on the guard before being Thaned. She lead a charge that broke a raid on Riverwood in half. We lived on a humble estate outside the city. It was just me, them, and her Housecarl. One of the bandits on that raid came back for revenge. They took us nearly ten to one. My parents and their Housecarl gave their lives so I could escape and warn the Guard of a bandit force closing in on Whiterun. They were never targeting Whiterun, of course, just our farm."
Jon said, "That was brave of you, to be so young and hold yourself together. You're obviously a sturdy woman. What happened to you afterwards?"
Lydia said, "We went back and my home, their bodies, and eleven dead bandits, were burned black. The bastard left a calling card that my mother's guard friends put together. The only thing that survived was this armor and sword in a chest. Afterwards, I grew up with the guard. They took me in, finished my training, and I spent a few years serving before taking the oath of Housecarl. I had done nothing to be Thaned, so I honored the man who helped raise me with the oath, I honor my mother by carrying her steel and armor, and I honor my father by hating Ulfric Stormcloak and his damned rebellion."
Jon nodded, "Fuck, and here I was shitting on your oath after what you've been though. I'm sorry."
Lydia said, "It's all right, my Thane. You didn't know. After some thought, I understand your orders, even if they conflict with my oath. People said you matched a dragon in strength, and you are blessed as you are. Anything that could kill you is probably something I will not match, just as I could not match a pack of bandits as a child. My true oath is that I serve you however you require."
Jon nodded with a small smile. Lydia was a boon ally for house Noonien-Singh, and he needed her to watch his six, not get herself killed for an oath. He said, "Noonien-Singh. That's the house you serve, in case you didn't already know."
Lydia said, "Yes, Jon, of house Noonien-Singh."
Jon asked, "What was that bastard's name."
Lydia didn't hesitate, "Urlog Burned-Eye. Ask the goat-fucker how he got that title."
Jon didn't either, "On the honor of my house."
Lydia knew the truth when she heard it. At some point they would hunt that bastard down and take vengeance for the souls of her parents and Housecarl. This would be an epic worthy adventure indeed, she thought.
They were about enter the door of Warmaiden's. The Blacksmith Adrianne was banging away at her tasks, but she was being interrupted by two old men bickering with each other more than with her. From what Jon could overhear, one was trying to order steel for the legion, the other stumbled by and started an argument, and the blacksmith simply went back to her work while they sorted it out.
Lydia whispered, "Those are the Patriarchs of clans Battle-Born and Gray-Mane. Their clans are on opposite sides of the civil war. Those two always argued with each other about everything, even before Ulfric, so everyone is pretty sure they're still friends. The feud is mostly with their kids and grand-kids."
Jon nodded. Just as he was about to enter the shop, one of the men pulled his attention. He said, "You there, dragon-slayer. Settle a friendly wager, will you? Clan Gray-Mane, or Battle-Born."
Jon had a wicked smile. He was being asked to enter Whiterun politics is earnest. Why the hell not, he thought. He said, "House Noonien-Singh."
Both men laughed. The other old man said, "A fair answer, dragon-slayer."
The one that pulled his attention said, "A truce for the night, my arch-rival and imperial dog. So we may drink to the honor of Noonien-Singh. A house of dragon-slayers."
The other said, "Of course, my most hated nemesis and Stormcloak bastard. For the night."
The both walked away, patting each other on the shoulder all the while. They could announce the truce after a mug of mead. Adrianne said, "Thank the Divines. Tell Ulfberth I said to give you a discount."
Jon nodded, smiled, then entered the shop. The place was covered floor to roof in mannequins, and displays, for any kind a weapon or armor a warrior would need. The man behind the counter was as big a Lydia, and was casually wearing iron plate with full gauntlets. He had tattoos on his arms, and war paint on his face. On his back, a massive steel war-axe that could cleave Jon in two.
He had a friendly face and smile though. He said, "Welcome to Warmaiden's, dragon-slayer. Man, I'll tell my grand-kids about watching you and Irileth hauling that skull up to Dragonsreach, and the party afterwords. What can I get you, I'll even throw in a discount."
Jon nodded, deciding not to try and double dip. That would be rude, and this conversation didn't feel like an engagement. Why did he keep thinking like that? There are wars of wits, but every word a war? He said, "I'm more here to sell, actually."
Ulfberth nodded and inspected the haul that came from Jon's enchanted pack. He ought to get one of those, the warrior merchant thought. Then he could carry an emergency war-axe in addition to is usual one, for Adrianne. All in all, it looked like a decent haul, and no doubt came from bandits. Some good hide, leather, some mail shirts. A couple steel swords, an iron in good shape, even an Orcish one handed axe.
He said, "I'll give you four measure for the lot."
Jon said, "Sold. Lydia, do you want anything?"
Lydia shifted slightly. Her Thane was generous. She said, "A helmet would be nice."
Ulfberth said, "Here you go. Open face steel, round top, no embellishments, with mail down around your neck to protect it. It's the match to your current set too. One and a half measure."
Jon handed the man his coin, and Lydia her helmet. They walked back out into the streets, and Jon said, "Bank."
Lydia nodded and she led her thane through the busy main streets and into the Wind District. The bank was a small building situated next to the larger temple. Jon wondered if that meant something.
Inside the humble building was a counter blocked off with iron bars, and a balding imperial standing regally behind it. Behind him was a studly looking vault door, no doubt penetrable, but probably good enough to keep some of his hoard secure, and have accessible coin in any city this bank hopefully had branches in.
Posh as can be, the monocled banker said, "Welcome Thane Jon, of house Noonien-Singh. Here stands the Whiterun branch of the Silver-Blood Bank. I'm the branch operator Coinus Monimus IV. Are you here to open an account, sir?"
Jon said, "Indeed, Mr. Monimus. Is there a minimum deposit?"
Coinus said, "Indeed, sir. One measure in coin or other precious assets. We do keep more than just coin secure for our customers, however, we aren't a storage depot for an adventurer's armory. If a piece has a certain rarity or historical value, we would be more than happy to help you secure it. We also offer transport and courier services as well, so if your armory needs moved, perhaps, then we can still help you there."
Jon nodded, "Good to know, how about interest and insurance?"
Coinus nodded back at the discerning customer. He said, "For amounts over 1000 Septims, you receive one coin per day, or a maximum of 365 Septims per year. That will compound year over year to a maximum of five Septims per day, or 1,825 Septims per year. Long term customers will also be the first to hear word of investment opportunities that can increase your interest further, or pay out a lump return on investment. You will not receive interest for amounts under 1000, unless otherwise negotiated, but you will also not lose your compounded rate. As for insurance, we guarantee upwards of 10,000 Septims in the event of theft, and for higher amounts a larger insurance package can, of course, be negotiated."
Jon turned and said, "Lydia, your opinions about the Sliver-Blood Bank?"
She shifted slightly, not being an expert on banking. She was an expert in rumor and gossip, however. She had to be to try and fail to track down the Burned-Eye. She said, "I've never needed a bank, but I suspect if any could or would steal from them, its the Thieves Guild. The Silver-Bloods subtly make it known they pay off the Guild. Not in their back pocket like Black-Briar is rumored to have them, but I've heard even Maven won't try to force the Guild's hand against the Silver-Bloods. They're an ancient and strong clan."
Coinus nodded sagely, "A well reasoned opinion, young lady. As you can see, sir, our reputation precedes us. I will fully admit no vault is impenetrable, but the coin you would need to spend to match our security would be very expensive indeed."
Jon asked, "What about liquidity."
Coinus had a thoughtful expression on his face. He had just learned a new banker's term, and he liked the sound of it. He was a smart man, of course, and spent many years in banking. He could reason what the man was asking. He said, "I assure you, we have every Septim to cover our insurance obligations. Any not required for those obligations is what is used for aforementioned investment opportunities. Of course your full deposits can always be withdrawn, barring financial cataclysm, in which case, as I said, we are fully able cover our insurance obligations. However, keep in mind, only your coin deposited with us is insured, if you release it for investment then you do stand the risk of loss. All investments are fully detailed as part of a small tome available at each branch with their potential risks and rewards."
Jon asked, "And how many branches are there?"
Coinus said, "We are the only bank in Skyrim, so we have branches in every hold capital, as well as in several smaller villages and towns. You can access your funds at any branch by seal, and matching a physical description that we take at account set up. Any unique scaring and features will be noted, and you can set up a pass phrase as well, if you wish it."
Jon said, "I need a seal, as I have no symbology yet. Do you offer do those services?"
Coinus said, "Indeed, sir. We even offer it free of charge to new customers, though only for copper seals. Silver and gold will cost you materials."
Jon said, "Copper is fine. I can't use the dragon seal, as I'll be confused for the empire. How about a dragon with its wings and bottom claws flared out? Face it's head to the left, put arrows in the right claw, and in its the left put whatever plant traditionally represents peace offerings. Lydia, what's your opinion on the seal of my house?"
Lydia shifted again. She was a warrior, and not an expert on symbology. She wondered why her Thane cared what she thought, especially when he already had a specific symbol thought out. Swearing honorable vengeance is one thing, the herald of his house is another. She said, "You are right that the Imperial seal shouldn't be used, as its for the emperor alone. But I can think of no better symbol, as you've suggested, given who you are."
Coinus said, "Ah yes, for a house of dragon-slayers? No finer representation. Now, for your physical description, a large Redguard, obviously-"
Jon cut in, "I'm not a Redguard, actually. Just put large brown man, black hair."
Coinus humbled himself while saying, "Of course, sir. My apologies. Now, any unique features to identify you with?"
Jon fully removed his hood. Coinus was taken aback from what he saw, but not offensively. Jon said, "I'm missing part of my left ear, and you can see my eyes. How about you just leave the reptilian nature out of it. Emerald left eye, hazel right one."
Coinus politely nodded, "Of course, sir. That would be best, as some might think it a joke or ploy. This should be more than enough to identify you. It is simply a spot check against any who might have stolen your seal. How much would you like to deposit."
Jon had about twenty-five measure of gold between everything he bartered for, quested for, and picked up along the way. He also had some gems too from the bandit mine. He said, "Lets just start with the minimum for interest, coin and gems."
Coinus nodded while filling out a standard form, "Alright then, sir. I have an account opening for one Thane Jon, of house Noonien-Singh. He is a large brown man with black hair, an emerald left eye hazel right one, and marring on his left ear. His seal is a dragon with its wings and claws flared out, head to the left, in the right claw arrows, in the left a juniper berry branch, as this is Skyrim, all on copper. He is depositing 1,000 Septims between coin and gems, and will receive one Septim per day in interest, maximum 365 Septims per year, compounding year over year to five Septims per day, or 1,825 Septims per year. His insurance is up to 10,000 Septims in the event of theft. Is there anything else, sir?"
Jon said while singing it, "No, Mr. Monimus. How long will the seal take?"
Coinus said, "Not long, sir. An hour, hour and a half at most. I believe the luncheon is about to start at court. If a humble banker can make a suggestion to a mighty Thane, I would go there and we should be done when you are. When we are, you'll affix your seal to this document, and it will be kept here at your home branch."
Jon smiled and asked, "Can I have a copy that's sent to the main branch as well? In case this branch and its paperwork is lost?"
Coinus with respect again at the man with gold in his blood. He said, "Of course, sir. If that is what you wish. Then you'll affix your seal to both, and the one sent to Markarth will be noted as a copy."
Lydia and Jon walked back into the city. Jon looked at the dying tree, now that he had a moment to consider it, and he wandered why it was in the state it was in. Heimskr was, of course, still ranting. He also saw a small mead hall beside the shrine to Talos. From it was walking a red-haired warrior woman with war paint and an animal look in her eye. She also smelled faintly of the wolves he encountered in Riverwood. There was only one thing she could be.
As she got close to Jon, it only confirmed it. When she got face to face, he took control immediately. He whispered, so low only one of wolf ears could hear it, "You're a werewolf. I can smell it, and see it in your eyes. Should I be concerned about this? And speak honestly, because I will not suffer lies on your tongue."
She froze, but only for a moment. She whispered back, "And you're a dragon. I can smell that on you, even if you hide your eyes. Should I be the one concerned? Should I call my Companions over, the might of mead hall Jorrvaskr, and see who wins that test of strength?"
Jon smiled, "If you want to cause a very bloody public disturbance. In fact, I invite you. I would rather be sent to prison for that than lollygagging as we are."
She smiled, "At least I know you're no milk drinker. Slaying a dragon already proved it though. I was going to try and recruit you to the Companions, but I take it you're not interested."
Jon shook his head, "I have many other destinations to get to, unless you can offer me a more direct path to the Worm and defeating the dragons then what I'm already on. I assume only your top people are werewolves? I see other Companions and they are not like you. A cult?"
She saw no reason to lie at this point. He already reasoned everything out and could probably smell any deceit on her anyway, "Yes. It's called the Circle. We worship the hunt. All I'll say is that only those who choose it are given this gift, and our trials take place well off in the wilderness to avoid innocent blood being spilled because of them. Not every pack is as considerate as we are. In fact, none are."
Jon said, "Fair enough. I'll leave you be then. Werewolves do not have good reputations where I come from. I will give you the benefit of the doubt, however, as this is a new land for me."
She nodded, "And we you. Part of trying to recruit you was to figure you out in a friendly way. We could smell the live dragon blood in you, ever over the dead blood on you as you passed. Not everyone will see you as the second coming of Talos."
Before she left he said, "Nor do I want them too. I'm not these peoples' god. My gift isn't a Divine blessing to me, its a weapon put in my hands by Akatosh to carry out a mission. Whether I was chosen to undertake this mission from the start, because I decided to undertake this mission at all, or because I literally died for Whiterun out there, I do not know." She paused a moment, then nodded. He wasn't a threat to them or Whiterun, home of Jorrvaskr.
Lydia and Jon continued their Journey up to Dragonsreach. A decent crowd was on its way up to the luncheon, and both the Thane and Housecarl blended into it as they entered the mead hall and approached the Jarl and his steward. Thane Jon could, of course, do so as he pleased, needing no summons to see his Jarl and friend.
Jon and Lydia both saluted. Jon said, "Good marrow, my Jarl. How fair you?"
The Jarl smiled, "I am well, my friend. Come to speak to Proventus? Perhaps the luncheon as well."
Jon made a sarcastic show of groveling, "Indeed, sir. Your deductive capabilities knows no bounds. I am also preforming my Thanely duties. As I am still in Whiterun taking care of some affairs before I set off, I am able to attend court as you have asked of me."
The Jarl, the Steward, and the Housecarl chucked. The Jarl said, "Good. Proventus? Get him squared away. Then all of you take your fill of food. I'll be mingling around."
Proventus, Lydia, and Jon walked up to the Jarl's vast office, and the Steward led them to a small side desk. He said, "Here is your key, and here is a catalog for various improvements that can be made. Everything is crafted right here in Whiterun, and can be delivered on a very short timetable.
Jon nodded, "Thank you Proventus. I haven't seen inside. Do you know what it's like in there.
Proventus said, "Striped to the walls and dusty. Maybe a few crates and barrels. It has a small side kitchen, and the second floor is the master and second bedrooms. It also has a small washroom and running water hooked up to the spring and sewer. Not every building has that, and why the price never lowered. It's a long term project the Jarl was working on before the civil war. It was going to be one of the first such systems in Tamriel, behind Solitude, the Imperial City and Alinor. Now the dragons, of course, are also halting it. How much progress will we lose because of them?"
Jon flipped thought the catalog quickly. He said, "You'll get it back. These are sturdy people in these lands. I only see full outfitting here. Is there a basic package. I don't have the coin for this yet, and I'm leaving Whiterun shortly. Can I just get some cleaners in there to check the chimney? Just get some basic cots and chars in there? A table or two?"
Proventus thought a moment. He said, "Yes, I can get the place cleaned up, and put a custom order in. Say, three measure. That will get you the clean, a small diner table, simple chairs, and a couple cots."
Jon nodded and handed over the gold. He asked, "How much does a horse cost?"
Proventus said, "Ten measure. That includes a simple saddle. I'll warn you, it wont be a war horse, even if it's still Whiterun stock. Affording you that beast was a special occurrence."
Jon nodded again, "Thank you, Proventus. I'll be getting food. Good day to you."
Lydia and Jon walked down to the mead hall and began partaking in the lighter affair. It was no grand feast. Jon and her both took their fill of food, some light conversation with others, and walked back out into the beckoning fresh air of Skyrim.
As they were walking down towards the market, Jon asked, "You don't own a horse right? Just checking before I buy another one."
Lydia stammered, "My Jon, I mean My thane, Jon. I have done nothing to prove my self worthy of ser-"
Jon cut her off, "Lydia, I thought we were past this."
Lydia nodded. She said, "Yes, Jon. You are a most generous Thane. I thought Proventus was talking of lending you a war-horse, for the battle. Most Housecarls do not own horses, and those that do are usually given them after some feat or act of bravery. I am lucky to be armed and armored as I am."
Jon said, "We are literally going to be traveling all over Skyrim. You are not walking everywhere. It would slow me down massively if nothing else. I cant have that."
Lydia nodded. An epic adventure indeed with an honorable, generous, and handsome Thane. The Divines-blessed Dragonborn with the strength of ten men. She said, "Thank you, Jon"
They walked up to Carlotta's stand. Jon said, "Hail Carlotta, I'm looking for a mediocre bard with excellent taste in women, but no actual manners."
Carlotta smiled at the flattery. The handsome wizard was a dragon-slayer after all, not some jerk bard. She said, "I hear the one at the Bannered Mare is ever so slightly out of tune."
Jon kept walking past. She said, "Perfect, just where I was going."
The Thane and Housecarl walked into the Bannered Mare, with Two labors on the Dragonborn's mind. The place wasn't two crowded, the lunch rush crowd already dissipating. Hulda was dealing with other customers, and didn't greet him as he walked it. That was fine, because Jon spied his target.
He walked up to the bard, hood down. The bard said, "Hail, friend. Have a request? Five coin."
Jon pulled out five coin, and he placed it in the man's hand while quickly grabbing it, squeezing ever so slightly. He lifted his dragon eyes and softly said, "Leave. Carlotta. Alone."
The bard saw his life flash before his eyes. As if a Divine themselves had come down to command him. He did as the man said. With he spoke with a pale smile, "Of course friend, I can certainly play that one again."
Jon walked away to the kitchen to speak to Saadia. The bard played his song, a familiar sounding tune whose purpose is no doubt propaganda. Others, especially the guardsmen on their lunch, sang along.
We drink to our youth, to days come and gone.
To the day that the guard of Whiterun held firm.
We'll drive out the dragons and restore what we own.
With our blood and our steel we will take back our home.
Down with Alduin! The eater of worlds!
On the day of your death we will drink and we'll sing.
We're the children of Skyrim and we fight all our lives.
When Sovngarde beckons every one of us dies!
But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean.
Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams!
Down with Alduin! The eater of worlds!
On the day of your death we will drink and we'll sing.
We're the children of Skyrim and we fight all our lives.
When Sovngarde beckons every one of us dies!
We drink to our youth, to days come and gone.
To the day that the guard of Whiterun held firm.
The bard wasn't actually bad. Carlotta's opinion was rightly colored by the man's actions. He spied Saadia working in the kitchen, he turned to Lydia and said, "Wait out here, maybe get a mug of mead. Tell Hulda to start me a tab."
Lydia nodded at her Thane and took to the seat by the fire, still in view of the kitchen. Hulda came around and started a tab on her Thane shortly after. Saadia was laboring in the kitchen like an expert, with sweat on her brow, but she carried herself with a certain grace and nobility She saw Jon and gave him a smile. She didn't know if the city's famous dragon-slayer would have the time to keep his word to consider her problem. He never specifically swore that on the honor of his house, be it was still nice to see him back around. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. Maybe her problem will finally be solved.
Saadia motioned for Jon to sit in a back corner of the kitchen, near the steps. Jon got right to business. He said, "I promised to consider your problem, so what vexes you?"
Saadia went in stride. She said, "There are Alik'r warriors after me. Mercenaries. They're after a bounty on my head, and they've been around Whiterun for a week now asking questions. It's was I was so nervous when a big Redguard looking man came in the night. I thought that was it. I was either dead or captured to be killed in Hammerfell. I honestly thought you were one of the Alik'r that had switched their garb and gotten thought the gate. The crazy look in your eye didn't help."
Jon nodded. "Apologies. I was not in a good state. If I'm being honest, I came within a hairs breath of simply rampaging though the city. I was that out of it. A guard once again challenged me while I carried critical information to the Jarl, and my very mind almost snapped in half. Now, as far as I'm concerned, you're a productive member of Whiterun society, and I am Thane. Those Alik'r warriors will not take you. However, I need to know if the bounty is valid. What did you allegedly do, and is it true?"
Saadia nodded with a smile and a couple tears in her eyes. She said, "My house stands accused, well convicted, of treason. About 15 years after the Great war, Hammerfell was just cleaning up the last of the Thalmor invasion, and that also meant clearing out the houses that had collaborated with them. It took a while to root it all out. The Thalmor didn't have to fight in Cyrodiil anymore, but the Empire signed Hammerfell territory away and we refused to submit. It was valuable territory too."
Jon nodded, "And they were obviously willing to commit forces forces in what they thought would be a smaller war they could win. Then they would be in a better position to continue preparations for the Second Great War. By valuable, you no doubt mean in war materials."
Saadia nodded, "Exactly. Look, I don't know if the allegations were true or not. I feel it in my bones that the house of Suda were no one's collaborators. The evidence was obviously convincing, but it came from an historic rival. I could have just as easily been evidence of their crimes, forged to frame us. I was 16 when the warriors stormed though our keep by surprise. Only me and my Oathsword made it out the back. A secret passageway I found when exploring as a girl. No one had used it for decades at least, and we had to fight some beasts in there to escape."
Jon said, "What happened to them. Your Oathsworn."
Saddia nearly teared up again. "They got her a week later. She led them down the wrong path in the mountains while I went another way. I never saw her die, but I also haven't seen her since. A dozen of the finest warriors in Hammerfell rode against us. All I know is that if they didn't get me then and there, then they took the bait and she probably died."
Jon saw the truth in her eyes. If if she was lying, she deserved to get away with it for being that good. Jon asked, "So they just convicted your whole house, no allowances for a girl that had no part in the conspiracy?"
Saadia shook her head, "Not for what we were accused of. Not after the blood spilled in Hammerfell sand. As far as I know, I am the last of house Suda. I eventually made my way to Whiterun after spending a few months in the Skyrim forests. Plenty of game, so I didn't starve. Eventually I was sick of being alone in the woods, and Hulda took me in. I offered her some of my game in change for a room and bath for the night. She said if I could cook it, I could have a job and live here permanently. Best stew I ever had that night. Shes been good to me, Whiterun has been good to me. I wouldn't go back even if my house was cleared. I am Saadia now, and maybe one day I'll buy this inn from Hulda."
Jon nodded again. He liked this city. It was a city that encapsulated the values of the nation he served, values he found superior even if they were never properly adhered too. He asked, "How do you think I should approach this? Kill the Warriors after you? They are just mercs after all. And just knowing where to look is already too much information they know. Any leads so I don't have to just stand by the gate and kill every Redguard that comes along? That's not a good look."
Saadia chucked, "There's one locked up in the city dungeon. He pestered the gate keeper a little too much. He's accused of soliciting bribes to the guard, which he totally did offering a cut of the reward on a Whiterun citizen, whoever that may be. Its a substantial bounty, nearly 2000 Septims."
Jon smiled, "And they might have that cut on them. Nice. I'll go speak to him. See if maybe I can secure a deal in exchange for information. On my honor, house Noonien-Singh stands with Suda"
Jon got up and left the still nearly crying Saadia. She would still spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, but at least she would be as safe as she could be after the warriors were currently after her were dealt with.
Jon walked back to the main floor of the Inn and saw Lydia enjoying the fire and a mug of mead. He motioned for her to stay down, as he was going to the same before moving on.
Jon heard the slam of a mug in the back corner of the inn, "All right! I'm bored! I got ah full measah fo any man oh maiden tha can lah meh out! I'll even give yah a spin tah sack, cuz I'mah horneh too!"
The room was dead silent for a moment; All except Jon knew who made that challenge. One of them said, "Fools bet!"
The room laughed for a moment. Jon smiled and said, "Fortune favors the brave, the foolish, and ships named Enterprise! I'll take that bet, and double your measure!"
Jon hopped his arrogance wasn't getting the better of him here. He didn't want to have to talk Skulvar into a discount for his sturdy steeds. Lydia sat quietly. It wasn't her place to question her Thane entering a friendly brawl. He did match a dragon in strength, maybe he could match Uthgerd the Unbroken, said to have Giants in her line.
The room was once gain silent; they saw who issued the reply. Uthgerd began laughing manically. She said, "Oh boyo, if ters anah man tha can tame meh, it be tha dragon-slayah tha's said tah have matched tah beast in strength. Ah ten men, tha say. Lessa see if tha's more thanah boast."
She got up and began cracking her neck and knuckles. Beside her in the corner was a broadsword taller than Jon. When she stood, she was above him. The massive woman was in full steel place, and it was no doubt custom made and molded to fit her voluptuous breasts. Her strawberry hair was tied back in tight braids, and on half of her comely face was blue swirling tattoos that twisted and turned over, around, and underneath various scars. She also smelled of something else. More wild, primal, but not like the lithe werewolf woman. He perhaps let is arrogance get the better of him here. A challenge fair, a fair duel.
He held up a hand for a moment. He said, "Not really fair if I'm in robes, and have to punch though steel plate with my bare hands."
Ulthgerd Gave the challenger a hungry look, licking her lips. He was a small man, dark, exotic, smelled of war and blood unlike any she encountered before. She would have fun tossing him around. She was going to win, and then drag him back to the bath to have her way with him after taking his coin. Or she lost, and she was going to fuck her coin right back out of him.
She said, "Oha Iya see. Yah get ah look ah tah goods yah be fightin fo? ave ah gander, filtheh manish."
She undid a couple straps on her plate, and it hit fell to the floor with a clattering ring. Every man in the inn cheered, and a fair few of the women too. The large woman was wearing steel over bare skin, and nothing was left to the imagination. The tattoos continued down the full of her packed body. Every bit of was covered with a protective layer of fat, and the fat on her chest simply hung to the floor with contemptuous ease. Her breasts were large, heavy, meant to mother children, and were completed by large blue nipples, erect as can be.
She charged at Jon, and speed was on his side. He wanted to gauge his opponent however. He took a hit to the left, then a hit to the right, then he stopped taking hits. The third hit was lighter than the first two, more controlled. The first two hurt, and were meant to knock him out quick. It wasn't enough. This woman could nearly match him in strength, however, if not agility. She was still surprisingly quick, just like many things he's seen so far.
Jon stood like a mountain as he blocked and deflected the continual heavy blows, refusing to give an inch to the warrior-woman. As she tried to push her breasts into Jon's face as a distraction, she only broke her own guard. Jon ducked under another haymaker he delivered one of his own to the side of her gut. Another haymaker came in response, and he delivered another to the other side in perfect boxing form. He grabbed a hard handful of breast and yanked hard downwards and to the side.
Uthger grabbed her manhandled womanhood as the force of the pull carried her around the impromptu arena. She stared at the stupid man in a rage, fire in her pale eyes. She said, "Oha, I see. Fightin durty yah manish hanfukah."
Jon smiled, "Fair fights are for suckers and dead men. You wouldn't be alive right now if you didn't know that. Some milk drinker would have tanned your pretty little hide ages ago, sweetheart."
"I'MA NAH SWEAT, NEA LITTLE, NAH AVAN PRETEH COKESUKAH"
Her powerful, steel covered, thighs propelled her towards the ire of her anger, and Jon had the big bitch right where he wanted her. She was coming in for a tackle, and here Jon had a distinct advantage. His center of gravity was lower. She tried to lift him up, and with a forceful jerk of his body, he kept her low, and him over top of her with his feet on the ground, sliding as they were. Her forward momentum only helped him more. He grabbed around her thick waste and heaved with the strength of ten men. Her head was now in the opposite direction, flipped over, disorienting her. Jon hoped people liked a spectacle.
He slammed down on his knee on the side bearing the big bitch of a woman. Her whole body jerked as her lower back was driven into Jon's shoulder, and was thrown hard back onto the floor. The crowd went wild at the pointlessly unconventional, yet flashy move.
Uthger sat up with a start, deaths bells ringing in her ears. She laughed, "Oha nah yah don fucked. Beenah fiften yars thatah benn a kink ina mah bahk."
She charged at him again, faster this time, expecting different results. And there were different results. She defended herself from his last trick, but now the only thing he could do while she shoved him into the wall was bring powerful elbows down onto her knotted back. Each strike was like Divines-sent relieve to woman who had so far been Unbroken. Each joint put back in place, and tightness loosened Tamed her. No other of the manish kind had the strength to do this, but the small wizard with a cocky grin did.
She slammed him into the wall, hard enough to indent it and break a table that she put him though. She brought her eye to his, close, and she saw the truth there. Jon saw the truth as well.
"Shutah up ana take meh yah filthty manish. I yeild farh." Uthgerd the Tamed took Jon's face into his mouth. The crow quite simply lost it. Everyone cheered and clapped.
"I'll take my coin from you hide and your purse." he gave a swift kick to her knee, and quickly jerked her arm hard, loosening another joint, as he dragged the Uthgerd to the bath, thus completing the alien matting ritual.
He would exit an hour later. For the purposes of time, Jon went to the dungeon and used his powers as Thane to sentence the Alki'r to exile from Skyrim, rather than rotting in a cell forever, in exchange for information about the evil mercenaries. He would also buy Lydia a horse. They would ride out and kill all of the bandit aligned mercenaries, taking nearly twenty measure in coin from their combines purses, and a good haul of curved swords.
The End.
Jon said one last thing to the guardsman at the gate. He said, "Guardsman, send a small patrol out to Swindlers Cave on the marrow. Report back to Hulda with what you find."
The guard didn't even question his Thanes orders, no merchant was he. He said, "Yes my Thane."
He also picked up his seal from the bank. It was fuckin sick.
He also paid his tab with Hulda,
and for the table.