Beta'd by TheMegaEvolvedPony
My throat closed up in horror.
I couldn't breathe at all. Not like it mattered much. This quest was going to murk me.
[The Ancient Prophecy]
" When Misrule takes its place at the Eight Corners of the World
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is Reshaped
When the Thrice-Blessed fail and the Red Tower Trembles
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls
When the Snow Tower lies Sundered, Kingless, Bleeding...
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn "
The prophecy that adorns Alduin's Wall. It seems to tell a tale of
events that have afflicted the Nirn. However, is it complete?
Who knows! All you can do is your best. It does not include you,
so you are a wild card! Alduin will definitely still eat you
though!
Objectives:
-Assist the Dragonborn in their quest to slay Alduin
Rewards:
-The Nirn, everyone and everything in it (including you),
is not destroyed by Alduin
-New Title: (Hidden)
-1,000,000 EXP
-1 Perk Points
Shit shit shit!
I was being railroaded. There was absolutely ZERO choice about this. It was fight an enemy that in lore was basically god-like or sit with a bucket over my head and pretend it wasn't happening. What did that prophecy even mean? It doesn't fucking have anything about "The Dragonborn beats up Alduin". Was my help really needed? Did I want to risk it? It's entirely possible the Dragonborn is a dumbass.
That would suck so bad.
My eyes drifted to the bottom of the screen which had a small black bar. It seemed to have the time and date on it.
4E 195, 2:14.23
Only six years?! This wasn't going in my favor at all.
Four years wasn't nearly enough time to do anything. Learn the sword? Ha! Then the first mage I came across would wipe the floor with me. Stealth archer?
There was a thought...
But it was quickly dismissed. First time I'm caught would be the last.
That pretty much just left mage. Though, the weakness to close combat would be a problem. Spellsword then?
'Like most my characters.' I snorted in amusement.
Yeah, it would probably do.
But for now? I needed to get it together and find someplace to stay for now.
I glanced up and down the line of wrecked carriages. I couldn't bury the bodies. I didn't have the time. Cold would set in eventually and I doubted they wanted me to join them in the afterlife.
A shaky breath left my lips as I stood. Clothes. Yes. A new coat. A quick shake of my clothes revealed absolutely nothing on me. Not a single septim. Perhaps somethings I could sell once I reach civilization would be handy as well.
Looting the bodies of my kinsmen felt wrong.
My kinsmen?
I set my eyes on Rashim. Memories of both I and the previous inhabitant of this body had merged. It was actually a bit difficult to separate them. But he was family.
However, I was also desperate.
I said a quick apology as I frisked Rashim's corpse. A sack on his belt had a few septims in it. I tied it to my own belt as I looked some more. Not much. His personal belongings were put in the last wagon. One of the ones that had been burnt to a crisp.
It pained me to think of the loss of my family's history. I was the only one to bear it all now.
There was a pang in my chest as I looked to his ears. His earrings sat there, innocently. Valuable? Probably.
Could I bear to let them go?
Hell no.
I took them off his ears and held them in my hands. They were incredibly simple. Just gold and silver. Yet there were marks of wear as well as a single symbol on each one. It was a marking of sorts to make them his own. I would need some where to keep them. I can invest in some storage somewhere at some point.
Minutes went by as I just stared at the earrings, lost in memories.
It was only when the piercing chill of the Skyrim winds swept through my tattered top, causing goosebumps on my skin. A shudder escaped me as I got a move on, slipping the earrings into my belt pouch and grabbing his steel sword. I would need to hold it somehow. A few minutes of fiddling and adjusting and I managed to get his sheathe attached to my own belt.
A new shirt and coat would be wonderful right about now. Trudging through the snow a few covered wagons down luckily bore fruit. The contents seemingly went mostly untouched. What little septims I vaguely remembered laying around were swiped. That and a few alchemy ingredients. I climbed up and pushed boxes and crates aside to get to the back of the transport. Clothes!
Not precisely my size, but it was good enough. A bit loose.
I tossed my destroyed shirt and fur coat haphazardly to the side and snatched up a beige long-sleeve shirt. It actually reminded me of the peasant shirts depicted in video games and TV. Wasn't there a name for it?
Ah, whatever.
My eyes then landed on a brown fur coat. It seemed pretty high quality too!
Yoink.
Nice and toasty as well. A bit snug around the arms, but I would live.
Time to find a pack and then I could get moving.
The mercenary whose sword I had taken to use on that vampire likely had a pack. Maybe even a nice one? Hell, perhaps even some septims to go along with all of that.
It was surreal being able to walk. Muscle memory from this body's life thankfully helped me. Otherwise I'd probably die out here. Another statistic if the news of our deaths even reached whatever governmental body was around.
And if they cared enough to jot it down.
Either way, my legs carried me back down the line of destroyed wagons. A pang entered my chest as I passed Rashim and the little ones again.
'Hunting down and fucking up that vampire coven would be a nice goal too.' I thought darkly. Though, as soon as that thought was finished, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
[Quest created!]
[Blood Payments]
" To exact revenge for yourself or your friends is not
only a right, it's an absolute duty. "
You lost your family in two lives. But you can actually do
something about this one. Dark thoughts swirl in your head
as you dream of what you will do in revenge of your family.
Objectives:
-Slay the leader of the vampire coven who has slain your family
-(Optional) Force him through the same pain you experienced
Rewards:
-Satisfaction
-New Title: (Hidden)
-500,000 EXP
-1 Perk Point
That was...a hefty reward. And where did that quote come from? Familiar...
Doesn't matter much.
I raised my eyebrow at the rewards. Satisfaction was a given. It didn't really need to be added, but alright. The really interesting part was the perk point. Is there some sort of perk shop? Does it let me upgrade perks? That would be nice. A nice perk called "Murk Alduin right now" would do wonders. System? Make it happen! Snap snap!
I was, in fact, not met with such a wonderful skill.
With that said, I closed the menu and continued, spotting the fallen mercenary in the snow. He seemed to have had an ice spike in his chest. I didn't bother looking close and rolled him over. Backpack acquired. It looked exactly like any of the knapsacks one may find in a bandit camp or with the wandering hunters and fishermen.
With the backpack obtained, I immediately transferred Rashim's earrings to a pocket within and tied said pocket shut tightly. Losing them simply wasn't an option. I couldn't live with myself if that happened.
I stood from the mercenary's corpse, taking in a deep breath. I exhaled, releasing a puff of warm air into the crisp Skyrim air. My eyes drifted to the many dead khajiits that I once called family. Pain shot through my chest and settled in my core, nestling within me. I lingered for awhile before I opened my map to figure exactly where I was.
I squinted at the landscape, barely able to see the various locations. Unfortunately, it appears I didn't have access to every location immediately. Made sense though, I suppose.
Real pain in the ass since the scale of everything changed.
Eventually my eyes landed on a huge divot in the ground with trees having been cleared away from it. Incredibly snowy as well. Far from the road I was on too. Saarthal?
That means I'm not far from Winterhold!
While I may not be able to enter the College- yet-, I can certainly find work or something else similar there. Perhaps even sign on with some adventurer's guild? If the landscape has changed, surely there's larger cities. That means more people. That means work to be done.
I then looked back to the road and followed it with my eyes. Yep, sure enough, it led directly to some sort of city and wow.
It was HUGE.
I thought some disaster sunk half the city or something around fifty years prior to the game's start? Then why was it so huge! It even expanded past that little mountain pass into the snowy plains. Trees had been cleared, the rock face mined, and buildings erected. From what I could tell, the sea claiming part of the town had happened, but they seemed to build down onto the shore as well, becoming a sort of town on the water. Fascinating.
Either way, the town was just along the road, so I closed my map and got moving.
Wait. I hadn't consumed much content besides the Elder Scrolls, but I do remember illusionists were generally frowned upon. People were not fans of getting tricked. A disguise would be best. A quick glance down to my hands said that much.
Digging through the body's memories revealed quite a bit, but I focused on people around my age. Of course, a khajiit was an option, but I didn't fancy dealing with the racism. Same reason for not becoming an argonian. A high elf? How...oh, a half-blood. Ooh, an orc. Good. That would make it easy to get into one of the strongholds later. There was an ebony mine south of Windhelm too. I would wager that stronghold is also bigger now.
It took awhile, but I eventually recalled a young nord male with blonde hair, green eyes, and a suspiciously grown-looking face for his age. Right, now, how do I do this? Hm...
A spike of warmth shot through my body. That was all there was. I looked down to my hands. The hands of a hearty nord teen faced me. Perfection.
My heart crawled up my throat as I approached the city. Might stone walls stood tall and proud, manned be equally proud nords looking down upon me with a scrutinizing gaze. They didn't wear their usual attire, but instead some sort of leather cuirass with gloves. Some chain mail peaked out from underneath the leather. They held hunting bows. Normal guard equipment there, but the outfits were all wrong. As I neared, a proper guard helm peaked out from a window in what appeared to be the main tower of this wall.
So they used militiamen to supplement the trained guards? Fair enough.
Snow crunched beneath my boots as I stopped at the gate. It appeared to wooden with metal struts. There was no separation down the middle, so it must raise up into the main tower. None of the militia moved, but I did hear heavier footsteps. Eventually, the guard from before stuck his head out the window and looked at me. Even though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was judging me.
"What brings you here?" He asked in his gruff voice.
"A traveler, sir. I seek refuge the great town of Winterhold, perhaps some work as well." I replied smoothly. I appeared calm on the outside, but my heart was beating out of my chest wildly.
The guard stared for another dozen seconds or so before he retreated and the gate begun to open. I slipped in to reveal...
...a second gate.
The first dropped to the ground behind me with a mighty slam. I looked around the room I was in. There were holes at the top and thin slits to either side of me at about chest level. A kill chamber. Smart.
The second gate was wrought iron and incredibly angular. Also heavy. Obviously. A few seconds passed and some heavy steps above and the metal gate raised up just enough to allow me to pass beneath. I looked back up to the tower where the guard was sticking out his head. "Stay safe, traveler."
Hm, unexpectedly friendly. Though, it was probably due to the skin I was wearing. Strangely, I was not opposed to what I was doing. Perhaps my mind was altered by the reincarnation. Rather than getting all the memories of the host, it could be that we merged?
Thoughts for later.
I turned back and looked around at the town. This appeared to be some sort of over spill form the town. And a middle-class neighborhood. Houses weren't overly fancy, yet were better than the typical rock walls and hay-roof that you often see around Skyrim. These had bricks and fences. Though, what's middle-class elsewhere is probably upper-class here. If I recall correctly, Winterhold didn't have much going for it. Maybe a mine somewhere?
The road also looked much nicer than the one outside the wall. Though, the air did feel rather...energized. Like it was vibrating. Could it be the College?
My legs carried me through the town to the little mountain pass. Normally, there's just some plants and maybe a handful of trees there, but now there was a gatehouse. It was build into the mountain itself. Though, this one was open and the militiamen atop it were too busy playing some sort of card game to bother looking at the street. Understandable. Probably a quick-release to drop the gate if the first gatehouse is bypassed.
I walked through and down into what was a wildly different Winterhold.
The main street was now a vibrant hub of stores and merchant stands. People yelled out offers of discounts and rare items. I could hear a blacksmith's hammer clanking off in the distance. The sharp tapping was an oddly familiar sound. Nearly identical to that of the one in-game. Though, it seemed there were people of all races around.
Well, apart from altmer. That was expected though.
Interestingly, a group of argonians walked right onto the street with a wagon filled with...argonian ale? It filled blue bottles and had some sort of sticker or printing on the side to signify the company brewing it. People nearly mobbed the cart with offers to buy the stuff.
Someone even pushed past me to rush the argonians who were rapidly selling their wares, just out on the street.
I decidedly avoided the crowd and squeezed past the people. As I walked down the road, the air felt excited for lack of a better term. Must be the College.
It also occurred to me just how much this place looked like a bazaar in the Middle-East back in my world. Buildings towered over the street, hell, even bridges between them. It felt open, yet enclosed at the same time.
Clearly, this place became a trading hub.
I eventually suddenly stopped. The bazaar was seemingly built onto a large stone tower. At it's entrance was a certain altmer woman. She had been sitting in a wooden chair, reading a book. Yet, as if she had a sixth sense, looked up and directly at me in the crowded street.
My breathe caught as my fight or flight instincts kicked in. This woman was powerful. And terrifying.
And pretty.
Very pretty.
She looked nothing like how the altmer in-game did. She was how elves were supposed to be. Gorgeous, timeless, yet distinctly not human. Like a facade in a way. She wore robes that looked like the ones she did in game, but a bit more vibrant.
I felt drawn to the tower. It felt...right. Like the correct path.
As soon as I stepped onto the sloped bricks up, an electrifying sense shot through me. It was the most enjoyable thing I had ever felt. Like something within me was at peace and connected. I let out a shudder as I walked up.
Faralda was right there, watching me with a bemused look as I stopped at the top, relishing in the feeling of being in contact with the college.
"Greetings, stranger. I see you are enjoying yourself." She quipped. Her book was set down by the legs of her chair.
That snapped me out of my near trance-like state. Embarrassment rapidly overtook me and my face flushed.
"Sorry, ma'am." I choked out, righting myself. The feeling was still there, yet it was muted now, as if it took a back seat.
The altmer woman let out a giggle. "Do not fret, for many like yourself often have similar experiences when first entering College grounds."
"Like myself?" I asked curiously. That was different. Concerning perhaps.
She nodded in confirmation. "Yes, like yourself. Those who have unlocked their magicka. Whether they were born that way or by some other means."
Way different. If I remembered correctly, everyone had the capacity to learn magicka, but some races were just more tuned to it. Why would someone have to "unlock" their magicka?
"I...don't remember any magical events happening to me. How does one unlock their magicka?" I asked slowly. Honestly, I felt dumb. I should know this stuff. Hell, with all the hours I have reading through Elder Scrolls lore, I should know more than a lot of the mages here.
"That's not something within my realm of understanding, so I cannot explain it to you sadly." She said. Her tone dipped a bit lower, as if regretful. It was polar to how she was in the game. Most high elves in-game are total assholes. Never was a fan.
Here? She acted like a regular person.
Very different.
"Oh, I see." I said rather blandly as I organized my thoughts, "Anyhow, can I enter the College?"
She looked at me blankly, as if I said something ridiculous but couldn't tell whether or not I was being genuine.
"Is that some sort of...joke?"
"Isn't there some sort of test? Like casting a spell to show I have potential or something?" My voice went up in pitch a bit at the end, betraying my nerves.
Her blank look lasted another few moments before she burst out laughing. "Why come here if you already know magic?" She said as she wiped a tear from her eye and composed herself.
"But to answer your question, no. Besides, there would be no other way for you to learn magicka unless you found your own mentor out in the lands or another school. So, how would you fulfill such a test?" She replied rhetorically.
I stuttered for a moment before shrugging helplessly.
"It is quite alright. You must be from another part of Skyrim. Our methods are mostly unknown to those outside of Winterhold." She explained patiently, like one would with a child. Fitting since I looked like a kid.
"I see." I said slowly before returning to my original question. "But, I can enter, yes?"
"Yeah, of course." She replied easily going for her book.
I almost walked right in before stopping. "What if I want to learn?"
She looked up, interest written all over her features. "Well, you'll have to find a master to take you on as an apprentice. Usually they're quite busy and don't bother, but you may have luck with their chosen Cey."
Alarms went off in my head as I searched for the word. Cey. The Ayleid language uses a lot of those types of sounds. Sounds similar to the word "say" and such.
I remember reading on the lore page. It had a small dictionary. Now what was it? Follower? No no, doesn't seem right.
A glance around the room caused my memory to spark. I had spotted Faralda's shadow against the wall.
"Shadow?" I asked hesitantly.
The elf blinked in surprise as I translated the word. "I'm not sure if that's the exact meaning. It's just the word used. Though, it would make sense since an apprentice "shadows" their master." She said thoughtfully before waving her hand. "Regardless, they normally have a sort of head apprentice whom over sees the rest of their students. They usually succeed their masters and become masters themselves and select Ceys. Then, the cycle repeats. You'll have far better luck gaining the attention of one of them."
She looked around briefly, like the Thalmor were spying on us before leaning a bit closer and lowering her voice. "Or, you could go adventuring and find a master to give you more direct teaching. Court mages can be good, but they usually have other duties, so you'll be relegated to self-study a lot of the time. What I would recommend is finding a mage traveling to take you on as an apprentice. Just about the most direct teaching you'll get. Likely lesser than any Master Wizard we have here, but the direct style is far better. Only Cey get that sort of treatment here, and you're more likely to get struck by lightning than become a Cey."
Taking the hint, I dropped my own voice. "And would you just so happen to know any good spots to find traveling wizards?"
"Adventurer's guild here gets many visitors. Sometimes, even ones from other countries. They visit seeking to commune with the residents of the College. If you can convince one to take you with them, then you're good." She said, pointing down the street towards a left turn not far from the College.
"That leads to Iron Sand Town, the lower-class area of the city. It's also Winterhold's dockyard. Just look around."
I nodded gratefully. "Thank you, ma'am. I do have a question though, why are we being so secretive?"
She looked around again. "Technically, the learning of magic unregulated by an official organization such as the College or with approval by a jarl, is highly illegal. Though, they do not hold charges unless they catch you in the process. Dumb loopholes and old, outdated nord legislature. Imperial too." She waved her hand dismissively before leaning back in her chair.
"Now, anymore questions?" She said politely with a small smile.
I shook my head quickly. "No, that will be all. Please, have an excellent day." I said, slipping into the crowd and making my way towards...Iron Sand Town?
PING!
I nearly jumped out of my skin as a transparent screen appeared in my face. Thankfully, no one called me out for nearly falling over.
[Reputation]
[This screen shows your relations with the various
denizens of the Nirn. Specifically, it will
begin with a list of factions from which you can search
for a name. It will tell you exactly how much
someone enjoys your presence.]
[Special Notes]
[Your interactions may differ slightly despite having a
specified numerical value in a category. For example,
if your reputation is in the [Stranger] category, and also
in the negatives, a person may specifically avoid you or
simply dislike your presence. Or, if you are [Vilified],
some may be openly hostile and attack.]
My eyes scanned over the screen.
Reputation, huh? Certainly handy.
I opened the system and navigated to the newest addition and opened it.
As I did, a notification popped up.
PING!
+25 reputation with Faralda
Oh, nice. A nice start to a friendship with someone at the College is invaluable. Maybe she'd be willing to travel with me eventually. A master destruction mage would be invaluable.
[Reputation]
[Vilified | Hated | Despised | Disliked | Stranger | Associate | Friend | Honored | Worshiped]
[Stormcloaks: Stranger (0/500)]
[Imperials: Stranger (0/500)]
[Thalmor: Stranger (0/500)]
[Misc]
Right, so how do I navigate this? Surely it doesn't expect me to search through lists and lists of names...
Mental commands already work, so it should work here. Past evidence and stuff like that.
'Show me Faralda.'
[Faralda: Stranger (25/500)]
If I'm not particularly liked, why did she share that information? There must be something else going on behind the scenes. Corruption or something. Perhaps the Altmeri Dominion had their claws deeper in the College in this world?
Annoying.
Supremely annoying.
But not like I can actually do anything right now. I couldn't for quite a bit of time.
It took just a few minutes to walk down the street and enter Iron Sand Town.
The sudden contrast was bizarre. It instantly turned from shops to cheap residential and further out, docks. Off to the right seemed to be an actual dockyard where ships were being built. So, Winterhold had a navy?
Peachy.
I strolled down the stone ramp which lead to wooden streets and buildings on stilts. The races of men were noted for their adaptability I suppose. Oddly enough though, this area reminded me distinctly of Riften. Just without all thieves guild morons running about.
Never could stand Brynjolf's comments on my coin purse.
Or Maul for a matter of fact.
'I should kick both their asses.' I thought darkly. The thought of battling them suddenly brought a feeling of dryness to my mouth. Well, what better way than to drink their-
I halted my train of thought. My condition was setting in quite fast. Not even a full day and I was already having thoughts.
A quick shake of my head and I continued on, pushing into the throng of the working-class. Cold wind whipped at my face, carrying small droplets of salty sea water with it. It didn't sting quite so bad now that I was bundled up though. The wind couldn't penetrate my thick fur coat. It seemed there were a handful of more specialty shops out here such as a family-owned alchemist that was closed today. A blacksmith was closer to the docks. I also heard whispers of some sort of underground fight club.
Like- literally under the earth. Apparently based out of some old, abandoned mine.
Not that it was any of my business.
The number of people rapidly thinned out as I closed in on the docks. Now it was more dock workers and travelers going about their business.
A number of ships were docked. I saw one manned entirely by argonians. Must be where that cart full of ale came in from earlier. Nearing the ship allowed me to read the name printed on the bow.
'Queen's Scales, huh?' I noted. Below that in a slightly finer print was "East Black Marsh Shipping Company".
Interesting. Perhaps Black Marsh would be a cool place to visit eventually.
Walking further along the docks towards the dockyards showcased numerous fishing vessels. So many that I actually lost count somewhere around thirty. They were tied down where ever someone could get a rope. Probably not the safest thing ever. Whatever, again, not really any of my business.
Eventually, I heard the voices of an irate khajiit. Suspiciously familiar at that.
"I told you already, I have taken care of the thugs! I want payment!" He demanded, gesturing angrily towards a stone-faced imperial. He was a fat, greasy, and short man-let. Yet, he had several women swooning over him. His clothes were incredibly fancy though. They seemed to be the classic rich merchant clothes. Even the stupid looking hat. He had a black mustache that curled like some sort of cartoon villain.
My eyes then drifted to the khajiit and my heart leapt out of my throat for a second time since I first entered the town.
He was a touch short but pretty stout. He wore leather armor with shiny steel chain mail beneath the leather which trailed along his arms. It stopped at leather arm guards which were studded with more steel. His bottoms were the standard leather pants with boots that appeared to have toe caps. Safety first I guess.
The most outstanding part of him though, was his purple fur and distinct facial scars. His diction was also completely different from your usual khajiit. He didn't refer to himself in the third person at all.
I stood still, staring at the altercation, still in shock over the situation. My thoughts muddled my mind as I listened.
"I don't recall any sort of deal with you, cat. Scram before I get the guards on you." The fat man said. His voice was exactly as I assumed. Cartoonishly evil.
Inigo lowered his hands and clenched them into fists, his chest rising and falling much quicker than before. His pupils had narrowed into thin slits that had a tinge of insanity to them.
"Well, go on now, get out of here. I'm sure the guards won't hesitate to arrest a petty criminal such as yourse-" The man was cut off as Inigo tackled him and began pummeling him. Despite the situation and the general attitude towards those not nords, the dock workers were all too eager to surround the fight and cheer on the angry khajiit who was shouting a multitude of obscenities.
Minutes passed on until the guards approached. Four of them broke up the crowd of nearly forty individuals and separated the fat man and Inigo. All four had to hold him back.
The fat man glared hatefully at the purple khajiit as he looked down to his clothes. They were dirtied and tussled. Despite the fight, there was no actual damage to them, but his face. The already pig-like visage had been bruised and bloodied. It appeared his nose had even been broken, or maybe just fractured judging by the way he held it.
Several women were already on top of him, cooing and kissing him.
I turned away in disgust, following the guards. After awhile he arrived at the barracks. Those were exactly where they were in the game.
Except about four times the size.
I walked inside and found myself in a sort of entry hall with a locked door in front of me. The whole thing was made of brick. Though, it was rough and clearly utilitarian rather than for looks. A Winterhold banner was hung up on the wall to the right. On the left was a window with a metal grate between me and the clerk. She was a bored nord woman who was barely paying attention.
"I'm here to see about bail for the khajiit who was just brought in.
The woman's dull brown eyes swiveled to me before looking off to her left. "One hundred silver septims." She said. God, even her voice was dull. This women clearly had no joy in her life.
Also, what the hell were silver septims?
"I see. Thank you."
I quickly left and walked down to Iron Sand Town again and looked around. There's got to be an adventurer's guild or something.
My eyes were drawn to all sorts of shop signs until I arrived at a building that looked much the same way the barracks did in the game did, except out on stilts above the water. The sign above read adventurer's guild.
Time to get some money. No way I was going to let Inigo rot in some jail cell.
My eyes drifted around the room before landing on a job board. Just a simple cork board hung between two posts with a multitude of hand-made jobs.
I marched across the room and walked right up to it. My eyes scanned over the many jobs available. Some were just chores while others were things like clearing bandits.
One stuck out as not too dangerous yet had what I needed.
'Protect a caravan of travelers going to Windhelm, huh? One hundred and fifty silver septims.' I thought to myself as I took the rough paper off the nail it was hung by.
The room was full of people, so no one really noticed me. I'd probably be questioned as to why a kid was taking on jobs like this.
Thankfully, there didn't appear to be any special markings on any of the various adventurer's like a necklace or ring to signify their occupation. Nor was there a box for a signature.
Just show up at the front gates and get ready to head out. It was even dated to leave today. In fact, not even an hour from now.
I hurried out the front door and back up to what I would call the main street and went left, keeping a solid speed walking pace. Unfortunately, the crowd was too thick to actually sprint.
I arrived at the front gate just in time. The caravan was still out front. Directly out front, actually. Unlike most towns, there wasn't some stables area outside the main gate. Everything was inside. Though, there did seem to be a slums-type area down below which had a poorly maintained road leading down the rather steep cliff face to the town outside the walls.
Well, no point in getting distracted.
I approached the caravan and walked along it. Horses nickered and snorted as I passed. They could probably smell my condition.
Eventually I got to the head of the caravan which was a semi-fancy carriage with a door opened. Inside was a small-ish man sitting in a chair with a small table before him. A stack of papers the same style as the one in my hand laid on the right and a stack of books on the left. Probably ledgers. An inkwell was next to the stack of papers.
I knocked on the side, grabbing the man's attention. He was a redguard with piercing sea green eyes and wrinkles, betraying his age and experience. Or perhaps just stress. He was notably bald. Not very common in Skyrim. In fact, I couldn't recall a single fully bald character. Maybe I'm just not remembering right.
"Here for the job?" He said. "Sure to like to start 'em young nowadays..." He grumbled the next part.
I stepped up and offered the paper to him. "Yes, sir."
He glanced at the paper before sighing and scratching his head. He was wearing steel armor. A wooden shield and an iron sword laid next to the chair. "Yeah, sure, kid. You'll be up front here. Just take the quill there and pen your name somewhere real quick."
I grabbed the quill and held it awkwardly in my hand. I had written with a quill exactly twice in my previous life and both times were in a museum. Thankfully though, this body's memories were reliable for this task. I quickly scribbled down my name best I could before putting the quill back and sliding the paper to the man. He shooed me away.
I stepped out and looked up and down the caravan. It was filled with carriages. Though, most were covered by canvas rather than a full-body like the front one. Similar to the ones I saw in history class. All the caravans going west in the migrations of the eighteen hundreds.
My face twitched as the man appeared in the door behind me and patted the carriage. The driver up front whom I could not see suddenly got the horses moving. The wheels crunched through the snow.
A glance back revealed the other adventurers...or, well, I supposed by definition we're mercenaries in this situation. Either way, they were walking alongside, so I did the same.
Time to get moving.
Yeah, sorry for being gone for so long. You see...I have no excuse. Just didn't feel the creative inspiration.
Anyway, enjoy. Next chapter should be relatively soon.
Discord Invite: T9sPwzGbMp
I don't have the thing to make a custom invite so it's easier to type. Sorry lads, lasses, and all others!