The sunlight shone down from up high, the sun resting at its peak within the clear blue sky. It was poetic, a small breeze picking up the leaves of trees and creating a small swirl in the air. Wildlife sung and chirped, going about their lives in a routine manner. The world was at peace, and it felt right to see such wilderness un-touched.
Until a mighty roar shook the peace away, and a great black shape flew above.
Ralof scrambled, sliding down a slight decline that led away from the entrance to take cover against a rather large boulder while He flattened Himself up against the cave, the shadows folding to cover Him. The Dragon roared again, circled twice above what remained of Helgan behind them, before flying off, gaining altitude and speed until it was but a mere speck in the distance. They had no inclination to find out.
"That was close" Ralof spoke aloud, and He felt the same. Nothing good comes from facing a monstrous beast that can spit flames and summon meteors with only an axe and a pair of rags in the shape of pants. They moved from their selective cover, and joined upon the small dirt pathway in front of the cave. The ambient sounds of nature returned shortly after their embankment upon the path, bringing back the music of the wild. The path was filled with small bends and several pebbles, but was thankfully wide enough for the two of them to walk aside each other. Given the relative lack of enemies and the fact that no one was actively trying to kill them, a conversation was struck up.
"Thanks for your help back there," Ralof began, looking up at Him, his voice sincere, "I don't think I could have made it through that without you."
"We were both in the same situation, for different reasons." He didn't feel the need to say that He had done most of the heavy work, it was unbecoming of a person like Him. It was an odd thing to think when He couldn't even describe Himself or where he came from.
"Still, I was really worried there when they had us lined up at the block." his eyes turned down cast, "Almost met our ends at the head of a damned executioner's axe, instead of righteous battle. If it wasn't for the.." he kept moving but he stopped his line of thought, as if he didn't believe what he saw with his own eyes.
"The dragon." He finished, looking about as He said it, keeping an eye out for either the thing to swoop back around, or for any other natural predators. The man's lack of vigilance could be excused, but as a warrior, He could not spare the moment to reminisce about the creature. He had already resolved to move forward, finding it, and killing it. Ralof took notice of His scanning of their surroundings.
"Sorry, just, Dragons haven't been around for thousands of years, for one of them to pop back up alongside this bloody civil war of all things is a bit to take in." he signed. "Anyway, we should probably get moving as far away from here as possible before any Imperials show up. Hopefully we'll find an actual road sometime soon."
"Agreed."
The two moved on in silence from there, moving at a brisk pace down the path, both of them on the alert for any danger. It took them half an hour to finally reach the end of the sprawled and winding dirt path, and finally reach a large stone road. He stopped, giving a small rest for Ralof who was looking a bit more worn down. A wooden set of signs were held aloft on a pole nearby, and the two of them slowly paced towards it, Ralof gathering himself as He looked at it. There were three in total each piece facing a different direction with a different word in white spelt upon them. The two facing away from them read out Falkreath and Helgan, and the were put at separate angles to each other, turning to look where the signs pointed He found that in the direction that the road split into a fork, the left most side inclining upwards curving, while the rightwards road stayed straight and level. Ralof tapped the third sign, drawing his attention back to read the name Riverwood, the road in the direction began to decline past the sign, and slowly curved.
"Riverwood is where we should go." he stated, "My sister, Gerdur lives there, we can lay low for a little while, as well as warn her about the dragon attack." he finished, stretching a bit in preparation for the walk. Krassus turned to him, eyebrow raised.
"Is your sister the Jarl of the city?" He asked. Why would a man like him be fighting for a rebellion when he is of noble blood?
"What?" he was surprised by the question, shaking the confusion off, he replied, "No, Jarls are the rulers of the Holds, Riverwood is simply a small village within the Hold of Whiterun, but our family helped found it generations ago, and as such it is well within her right to request aid from Jarl Balgruuf. If we warn her about what happened at Helgan with the dragon we could help defend the people. Anyway, we should get going, if we keep pace we'll get there before the afternoon is out."
They moved away from the signs down the singular road, listening to the sounds of wildlife. The pathway wound about and curved sharply, its slope leading downwards. It was peaceful as they walked, and after an hour they finally heard the sound of rushing water. As they rounded another bend, they came across a cliff face with an outcrop. Upon it sat a raised dais, with three large stone conical obelisks with markings upon them. Below the outcrop spun the fast flowing waters of a large river, the current pushing it northward at a rapid pace. Ralof approached the obelisks.
"I forgot about these," he began as Krassus approached, "They're the Standing Stones." He looked at them and gazed at the markings, identifying a figure on each. One held a small buckler and a large axe, his face covered by a beard and horned helmet. Another was of a figure in robes, armed with a simply looking staff or branch, and a comically large hat. The final one was half covered in shadow, but He could easily see the cloaked figure with a large pouch in hand and a dirk in the other. they were not marvelous pieces of art, but something resonated within them.
"Why are they here?" He asked, looking down at Ralof.
"No one knows, and the assumption of who made them were tales of the Dragonpriest." he spoke, gazing between the three of them, "The three here are the warrior, the mage, and the thief, but there are more scattered throughout Skyrim from what I hear." His next question was unspoken, save for His continued stare at Ralof. "as for what they do, each stone has a certain magical power, meant to slightly enhance the attributes of the sign." he finished, "At least, that's what those mudcrab mulch heads up in Winterhold describe it. What it really means is that those who choose the mage stone become potentially greater with magic, and acquire knowledge easier. The thief means that you'll become more adept at sticking to the shadows and dodging more, maybe pick pockets and locks with ease. As for the warrior-" he paused as Krassus moved forward, His hand running over the obelisk of the Warrior.
"One must become more attuned to performing greater feats of martial prowess and great strength, their armor being of a second skin." He rumbled, watching as the obelisk slowly lit up. As the light bloomed around the outline of the Warrior within, stars and lines connected to create a correlation, before a final pulse sent a searing white light into the heavens. A split second later and it was gone, but there were slight differences. The words He recited, were not of anything written, or His own intuition even. Those words had been spoken to Him long ago, back when He was younger, but He could not remember who said them, or where and why. He urged the memory to refocus from the haze, but alas, it would not, and even as He pressed all His Will to bring it back, He could not get a better grip upon them. The words held meaning, but He could not figure out why outside of the here and now.
"You could phrase it like that I guess, yeah." Ralof interrupted His thoughts, and He turned back to the man, "Had a feeling you would pick that one though, gotta admit you look like you're made for it." It was a truthful statement, seeing as He was eight feet tall, and weighted several hundred pounds of muscle. He was solid as any building foundation, and could hit harder than a boulder. Like clay I shall mold them. Another spark, but this one was even more distant and disguised, and was let go, to be thought upon later. There was no need for Soul Searching while in a case of urgency. They had to get to Riverwood, undistracted. The two began to move away, down the path.
It took them another two hours to reach Riverwood. The light of midday had begun to fade, and the sun was slowly approaching the horizon, preparing to pass the world into the darkness of night. The road had finally flattened out as it followed the river downstream, fish jumping out of the water periodically as if in some massive dance. On their right side had remained the regular fauna and wildlife of Skyrim, thick pine trees, moss covered boulders and several varieties of brightly colored plants. Nothing had crossed their path, but every so often they would hear the far off howl behind them, but the sound hadn't trailed them with any noticeable speed, so it was not invested in them. As the walls and gate into the small village came into view around the slight bend, Ralof let out a sigh of relief, and slowed his pace down to a walk instead of the light job he had been maintaining to keep up with Krassus.
The walls and gate were a spitting image of the ones that they had passed through into Helgan earlier this morning, the only difference being the river on the left side and the sawmill in the middle of it. There were guards here as well, but unlike the Imperials, they were dressed similarly to Ralof, the only difference being that their uniforms were in the color of yellow with a horse upon them rather than a bear, and their rather conical helmets. Despite the obvious ragged appearance the two fellows had, the guards did not bar them entrance, but it was noticeable that their stares followed the duo as they passed through the gates.
The village was formed around a singular T shaped road, and held a blacksmith, general wares store, an inn, and a few houses. The only discrepancy was the two wooden bridges that connected across the water to the lumber mill, one before and another after the blacksmith on the left side. They approached the first and began to stride across it. Atop the mill was a man in basic white fatigues, working the great band saw that split the logs in half from the pull of a simple lever within the structure, he eyed the two suspiciously, but did not stop his work, simply letting them pass around the side of the mill. There, staring at the river with her hands pushing against a table topped with leathers, was a woman in a green dress, she had dirty blonde hair and a sharp face, but the most fascinating thing was her eyes, they gleamed like sapphires. She didn't notice them until Ralof and Himself were standing next to her.
"Gerdur." Ralof said, his tone low but still more than a whisper. Gerdur was broken out of her starring and turned, startled, to find her brother standing there, and what could have easily been a giant in beggars clothes. She gasped, it had been a while since she had seen him, and the other one was unknown to her but she could spot a warrior from a good mile away. She turned her attention back to Ralof nearly instantly
"Ralof! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!" she said, stepping forward to hug him. The man hugged her back as He looked on, before she continued, "But is it safe for you to be here? We had heard Ulfric had been captured..." she continued, the last comment unspoken between the two before she broke the embrace and got a good look at him. "Are you hurt? What happened?" Concern colored her voice as she held him at arm's length. Ralof, free from the woman's embrace, was slow to get a word in over her, his voice still low.
"Gerdur, Gerdur, I'm fine. At least I am now." he said, sounded a bit exasperated. When he didn't continue she looked up at Him, a question forming in her mind.
"And who is this? one of your comrades?" She was hesitant to vocalize the last bit, she was a supporter of the rebellion but hadn't heard of them using giants to fight, even if this one was shaped much more proportionally. It scared her a bit, how He looked so much larger than life, as if the aura He carried demanded attention. Ralof turned to Him and smiled.
"Not a comrade yet, but a friend. I owe him my life in fact." he said, before turning back to his sibling, seriousness replacing the smile on his face. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked, eyes staring back at the road, " No telling when the new from Helgan will reach the Imperials." he finished, before turning back to her. She dropped her arms back to her sides.
"You're right. Follow me." she said, lowering her voice as she turned around and started walking towards a small clearing past the mill. The saw roared obnoxiously behind them as another log was systematically cut and then poured into the pile. She called out to the man working the mill, "Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something." They moved until they were several yards from the mill, next to a large tree stump, it was even wider than Him. Gerdur turned around, and the man had moved from his station to lean against the railing, and shouted out to her in return.
"What is it woman?" he was cupping his hands up to his mouth. "Sven drunk on the job again?"
"Hod, just come here." she replied, her voice brought down to a conversational level. Hod then saw who was with her.
"Ralof! What are you doing here?" he asked, before thinking better of it, "Ah... I'll be right down." he turned away from the railing, and jogged away, moving down from the back side of the mill. As he disappeared from sight, another figure approached from the second bridge, well two actually, a small boy and a dog. The two ran up to Ralof and Himself, Ralof turning to greet the boy.
"Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" The boy chatted off his questions in such a way that Ralof blinked twice, the boy was incredibly excited to see his Uncle it seemed. Gerdur went to respond to her child's mannerisms and eager behavior.
Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming." she said, pointing her left index finger towards the gate entrance they had come through. Her son's smile turned into a frown, and he began to complain.
"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!" It seemed that the boy was stalled from his mother's wishes by none other than the very uncle he wanted to see.
"Look at you, almost a grown man!" he said, kneeling before the lad with a smile on his face, "Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself." The boy beamed at the praise from what could only be assumed to be his favorite role model, he saluted Ralof.
"That's right! Don't worry, Uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you." The boy sharply turned, and slammed himself into something incredibly solid.
He looked down as the boy bounced off His kneecap like a pigskin, a sharp clonk and the boy was on his rear, shaking his head a bit to clear the stars out of his vision. He looked up, to see what he had hit, his eyes going wide as he first saw the gigantic leg clad in yellowish cloth. His eyes continued to looked upwards, his head moving till it was tilted nearly vertical as the boy gazed up at this Titan that cast shadows over him. His jaw agape, he let out a singular, drawn out, "Woooaah." The boy suddenly remember himself, and what he was tasked to do. "Sorry Sir-r." he stuttered out, pushing himself off the ground and then nearly sprinting towards the road, his eyes flickering back at Him, undisguised awe alight within them. As the boy ran off, Hod had finally arrived. Seeing as they were alone, Ralof took a seat on the stump, hands held together in his lap.
"Now, Ralof," Hod spoke, crossing his arms as he looked at the man and then up at Him, "what's going on? You two look pretty well done in."
"I can't remember when I last slept..." was how Ralof replied, and now that he was looking at the man closely, He noticed the dark looks, the bags under his eyes, the man was dead beat like Hod had said, even Gerdur had noticed, and had a sharp frown creasing her face. "Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us outside Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was... two days ago, now. We stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up to the headsman's block and ready to start chopping." It was not a way for a true warrior to die. Those who perished in the ambush were lucky to die with a blade in hand. He found Himself agreeing with the inner monologue.
"The cowards!" Gerdur said, her voice heated but still kept at a conversational level. There was anger in her features, and Hod had a similar expression. He found Himself in a similar level of agreeance.
"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then. But then..." Ralof paused, catching himself as he paused, "out of nowhere..." The man still couldn't believe it, which, to be fair, even He had been surprised by the appearance of the creature, even if He didn't fear it. "a dragon attacked..." And like that, the cat was out of the bag, both Hod and Gerdur gasped, and looked at him with wide eyes.
Gerdur was the first to speak "You don't mean, a real, live..."
"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." Ralof looked between the two of them, his arms apart and his palms upward as if to offer them a shrug as an equal explanation. "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?"
Gerdur responded slowly, trying to process the news. "Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know."
"Good." he put his hands down, propping them up on the stump as he contemplated the situation. "Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..." he left the last part off, it was an unspoken question.
"Nonsense." she replied, un-folding her arms, "You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Let me worry about the Imperials." she turned to him before continuing, looking Him over. "Any friend of Ralof is a friend of mine."
"Thanks, sister. I knew we could count on you." he replied, pushing off of the stump, standing up and stretching his arms above his head.
"I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but... did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..." the concern in her voice was nearly palpable at the unspoken question. The Dragon was a big deal, but losing the True High King would have been devastating to them.
"Don't worry." Ralof caught on, seeking to quell her fears, "I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak." For the first time in a few minutes, the three of them smiled, Himself just judging their reactions. Hod spoke up.
"I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is..." Hod started moving towards the bridge, gesturing for them to follow him. Gerdur crossed her arms again as she looked at the turned back of her husband.
"Hmph. Help them drink up our mead, you mean." her voice chased after him, but he kept walking, "Good luck, brother. I'll see you later."
Ralof smiled, as he turned to follow Hod, "Don't worry about me. I know how to lay low." As Gerdur began walking away, back towards the mill, Ralof walked next to Him, gesturing with a hand for Him to follow. The two of them crossed the bridge behind Hod, and moved up the T in the road, passing between the Inn and the general store. The walk was appealingly short, and moved to a single story stone house, a wooden thicket fence surrounding it. The roof was singularly made of thatch and a singular cow grazed in the lawn besides a bed of cabbages. A small plume of smoke wafted from the singular chimney in the back. The trio approached the singular door into the building, Hod fishing a small bronze key out of his pocket, before inserting it and opening the door.
Pushing forwards, the man opened the door for the two to follow in, only for him and Ralof to turn back to see Him inspecting the doorframe, that was aligned with His chin. "Oh." Hod said, rubbing the back of his head as He ducked inside, one arm in front of the other as He slid horizontally into the door. It was something else to see the giant reach up and stretch, the top of His hand reaching the crux of the roof. "Well..." Hod continued, turning away from the walking titan, his arms sweeping around the single room home. "This is it, our humble abode, stay for as long as you need." he said, before crossing over to the fireplace, and picking up a bottle from the mantle. Hod turned back and headed towards the door, and before he exited turned around, and starred at the two, a relatively serious look on his face.
"Don't drink all the mead without me."
With that, the door closed and Hod was gone, leaving Himself and Ralof alone in the house. The fire crackled in the silence, the heat and lighting filling the small L shaped home. Ralof availed himself to a wooden chair near the fire, sitting down in the seat, leaning back with a content sigh before looking back at Him. "Come on, make yourself at home." he said. His heart sang at that word. Home. He did not know where or what it fully was, and it pulled at Him. Subconsciously, He strode over next to the man, sitting on the other side of the fire on the floor. He would have sat in a chair, but none could have supported His body. He rested His axe on the floor besides him. Even here, on the floor, He could nearly be at eye level with the man beside him, it was an interesting perspective. He had kneeled before, but never sat, not since...
Since when? It was hard enough looking for memories that seemed to be heavily persistent, but this was a grasp at some illusion of a straw. There was no picture, or emotion, just the words He understood and knew that He had once been something different. The word Home was a blur and most of what He could see was cold metal, it roared, different from the Dragon had, it actually sung, and made a tempo, as if it was alive. That, and the stars, the stars themselves glimmered in the harshness of the cold vacuum above. His home was among the stars themselves. How... Poetic.
So enthralled by His thoughts, He had failed to notice Ralof had moved from His seat, the man grabbing two bottles from the top of the mantle, similar to the one Hod had grabbed earlier. Returning to his seat, he passed one under Krassus's drawn face, offering Him the drink. He looked towards the man, eyebrow raised as He grabbed the bottle. It was unmarked, and was a golden brown glass, larger than the potions in His back pouch. A cork sealed the drink.
"What's this?
Ralof, about to open his own bottle, stopped, and looked at Him, eyes wide. Had He made a mistake, some untold insult?
"How do you not know what mead is? You must truly not be from here if you haven't had mead before." he said, removing the stopper on his own before taking a swig from the bottle. He gulped it down and lowered the drink, licking his lips. "Go on, try it." It would be poor in taste to deny His host, and turned back to the bottle, using His thumb and Index finger to pop the cork out. A light brown liquid swirled in the bottle, and He took a drink. it was smooth and sweet, with a honey texture, and when he brought it away from His mouth He could feel the warmth in his stomach. Looking down, He realized that in a single taste He had drained half the bottle. A shame, it tasted nice. Ralof was staring at Him again, but with a smile on his face.
"It was," He hesitated on the words, "Satisfying." He nodded His head, looking at the man.
"Glad to hear it, mead is always good after a long journey." he said, "but I have to say, you look funny while holding the bottle, like you're drinking out of a bloody thimble." he laughed at that.
"Well maybe you should have gotten one to scale." He said in return, smiling back. The two laughed at that, and Ralof raised his bottle towards Him. He responded in kind, the bottles clinking together in toast to their safety. It felt good to relax, and put aside the problems of the world for the moment. The two sat there, looking at the fire as the afternoon slowly creeped on.
Soon enough, the fire was the only light within the house, and the sky outside had become dark. The two have spent their time well, leisurely relaxing. Ralof had taken it upon himself to begin making a stew with some of the ingredients from Gerdur's pantry, and the aroma was starting to fill the room. The two had been busy however, conversing, primarily of Him asking questions and Ralof answering. The primary topic had been the Civil War that was stalling in Skyrim at the moment. The war had been at a stand point for the last 6 months, the hold of Whiterun remaining neutral had inadvertently divided the continent in half between the Imperials and Stormcloaks. The ambush at Darkwater Crossing, was to be the turning point in the war for the Imperials with the capture of Ulfric, and He could see that the imperials had planned well. The continuous standpoint of the war was twisting in favor of the Imperials naturally, seeing as they could call upon reinforcements from their homeland of Cyrodil. They were trained and armed well form their base of operations in Solitude. The fighting chance the Stormcloaks had was their knowledge of terrain, and the fact that most of the natives sought for peace and freedom, leading to rebellion sects across the holds.
His mind was a brew like the stew above the fire, thoughts and emotions bubbled and turned, seeking his attention, but when the memories had it, they disappeared, and left a small void. He felt that what He was discussing was new, but in a way wrong. He knew he was no philosopher, but this small talk could hardly count as that. talking about the Imperials brought back remorse and yearning, but it was sour, as if it was not the same as it seemed. The Stormcloaks had been identified by a harsh scorn at the thought, but the ideologies that they sought spoke and resonated within Him.
They moved on in the conversation, speaking of the different holds and cities that dotted the lands, speaking of their different cultures, goods, and members. It turned out that while Solitude and Windhelm were home to the Imperials and Stormcloaks respectively, they were both the biggest hubs of trade in the nation, both having open sea ports. Dawnstar was the other open sea port, but it only dealt with mining and fishing, and did it's trading by convoy due to hectic storms. To the far north atop mountains lie Winterhold, home to the famous mage's college, that was stationed on it's own pillar-like pensile due to a major magical 'accident'. To the south east lie Riften, a river city that relied heavily upon their exports of several crafts, (mainly mead and special logs) and was home of the notorious Thieves Guild.
Moving clockwise they discussed Falkreath, and it's nature as an isolated city in the deep south. It was partially overshadowed by the Dwarven home city of Markarth to the west. An ancient stone keep above the ground, the long dead dwarves had built it before their disappearance, and since then it had been occupied by humans. The city exported priceless gems and ores, but it was a very cut throat place due to the owners of the mines being shrewd and cruel people. Ralof mentioned Morthal, but skipped over it saying "The only thing there worth noting is swamps and spiders, and I bloody well hate spiders." They ventured on to the final city: Whiterun, just down river from Riverwood itself.
Stationed in the middle of the continent, it was a massive trading hub, but did not have a very prominent or well known producer of mass goods. A few attractions of course, were the Mead Hall of the Companions, who were renowned warriors across Skyrim, the temple of Kileath, the wind goddess, and finally, the keep itself: Dragon's Reach. The key held the legend that it was used to capture a dragon, and that a skull rested on a place above the throne within. The real interest to Him however, had been the fact that in the Civil War, Whiterun had declared to be neutral. It was confusing, how could one not choose a side when each border was on your doorstep. To accent the madness, there had been fighting in the streets from supports of each group. How could a leader lead while his subjects squabble amongst themselves?
The two would have continued, but were interrupted by the door opening, and all three of the family entered the domicile, looking tired and worn out. They smiled however, upon seeing Ralof at the fire stirring the stew, and closed the door, basking in the aroma and the heat of the fire. He scooted to the side, letting Gerdur come up to her brother while Hod and Frodnar set about the table, prepping it for the five of them. "At least you can do more than fight and drink." she said, looking at the stew. He smiled in return, pausing his stirring.
"I happen to be decent at cooking thank you very much, and if you remember a sharp eye with a bow." he said in return. She had grabbed the spinning ladle and brought up a small amount of the stew to taste. She blew on it as it steamed in the firelight, before taking a small sip. She made a satisfied noise at the taste, before turning to him again.
"And who taught you how to cook what you brought back from your 'hunts'?" She received a laugh before he responded.
"You of course." He returned the ladle from her hand to the pot, she chuckled, moving back towards the table, and grabbing two small cloths. She returned, grabbing the pot with the cloths and removing it from it's raised hanger, returning it to the table where it was placed on a circular stone tablet. Cups had been set out at the rectangular table, with 2 on each of the long sides, and one on the short nearest to the fire. The boy and his father had done well in filling them with mead, and setting about a fresh bowl of some selective apples. Three chairs were already at the table for the family, while Ralof pulled his up.
He rose from his spot against the wall, and approached the spot obviously left void, before kneeling, His knees against the ground that left Him still towering over the seated members. "I'm sorry to have you on the floor, but we don't have anything quite big enough to seat you." Gerdur said, sheepishly. It was of no concern to Him, as it was familiar, cold stone would not bother Him at all.
"Worry not, I understand, thought it would likely take a seat of stone to properly seat me. I came unannounced." He replied, a wave of His hand in an attempt to avail her concern. Ralof smiled at that, and grabbed one of the bowls in the middle, using the ladle to fill it with some stew before returning the ladle and grabbing an apple. It went likewise around the table, before He too was to receive food. He gently reached forward, and grabbed one of the small wooden bowls, His index finger and thumb deftly picking the ladle and pouring the soup within the bowl. He decided against the apple, and sought out the silverware.
Unfortunately, it seemed the silverware was made for someone much smaller than Him. Everyone else was already tucking into their meals, and He did not wish to disrupt them, so He did the sensible thing, and grabbed the bowl in hand and drained it in a matter of seconds. It had a satisfying taste, and though he did not garner much, it still sat well with Him. He lowered the bowl, only to find everyone staring at Him.
"It was... most satisfactory." he uttered, nodding to them. Ralof was slack jawed at the speed of which the man had devoured the meal. He reached forward with the bowl and poured more of the stew in, the rest of them slowly eating but using their eyes to follow His movements as He downed the bowl again within seconds. It didn't even cross His mind that the food was still cooling down, and that the reason that the others were not eating nearly as fast was because they were taking the opportunity to blow the hot meal to a reasonable temperature. No one questioned Him about the fact that in less than twenty seconds He had consumed two full servings without a pause or any sign of discontent from the heat.
The rest took their time to finish their meals while He politely waited, and conversation began as Ralof asked about the well being of his sister and her family. He watched on in interest, seeing as to how they interacted with one another, mainly because most conversations between Him and someone else ended with a singular answer from Him and more questions left unspoken than answered. His mind was soon on the precipice of wandering when He was drawn into the conversation by Gerdur.
"I never got the chance to ask you earlier," she said, looking down the table towards Him, "But what do you plan to do now that you're out of captivity?" It was an understandable question, but unfortunately He didn't have much of an answer for it. He pondered for a second, rubbing His chin.
"I am not quite sure. I have a feeling that it would be best if I travelled, perhaps seeing the different keeps and plying my skills of trade to the people." There was vagueness in the answer, but it was by far the most honest one He had for her. Gerdur however looked relieved by His answer.
"Well, if that's the case, would you mind doing me, and Riverwood itself a favor? The Jarl of Whiterun needs to know about the dragon, and we desperately need more guards here to defend us, no one is really free to travel from their work here, but it would mean the world to us." she said, but continued before He could respond. "On the other hand, it would help even more if you mentioned that a minor group of bandits has set up in the old mine near the southern road. They've been raiding caravans and travelers passing through the area and have become a nuisance in general." Ah, problems of the people, this would be a start.
"I would be honored to deliver the message to the Jarl, but a question presents itself, how does one get to Whiterun from here, and how long would it take?" If He could help the people, it would no doubt open more doors for Him, and allow Him to learn more about the land, perhaps even face a Dragon on His own. His thoughts led Him about, giving meaning to the words. He could see that protection was a note within, but Destruction held the same manner of importance.
"Oh, it's just half a day's journey north of here into the valley, just follow the road and the river and you'll be there in no time. Though I would advise travelling tonight, and we would be happy to have you stay here." she said, a smile on her face. Hod followed up this statement.
"While it would be a great help for us, let us return the favor, tomorrow, we should go up to the general store and try and find you some apparel that fits you." he said, "It wouldn't do you any good to approach the guards in the rags of a prisoner with an axe in hand, they might just send you away." Now that was a thought, He did have to say the current wears were unfitting for Him. Perhaps He could approach the smith instead to acquire some armor. He voiced the idea aloud.
"I wouldn't do that." Hod interrupted, "The smith is an Imperial supporter, and has some pretty exuberant prices even for a small village like ours. Not only would he try and charge you an arm and a leg for even a chest piece, he would definitely tell any Imperial patrols about you." That was an issue, He was in dire need of some actual armor, but He wasn't willing to take a chance at getting captured again just to lose it all.
"I understand. As it stand then, I shall attempt to purchase some wears tomorrow, provided I can fit through the door." He said. They didn't catch it at first, nodding and turning back to their meals. The boy was the first to catch on, and began to smile, then chuckle, and then full blown laughter passed from his lips. The other three took notice, and Ralof stared at Him, before cracking a smile and joining in on the laugh. All He did was smile in return. When the laughter stopped he spoke.
"Never expected you to have a sense of humor." he said, shaking his head and returning to his meal. Soon enough, everyone else had finished, and had begun to set aside their bowls and began cleaning the table. Ralof and Himself simply sat and discussed a few more things, staring at the fire as the other three prepared for bed. Ralof departed from the conversation after some time, sitting in his chair near the fire. He however, stayed awake, watching the flames before silently getting up, and making sure everyone had fully gone to sleep, headed towards the door. He wasn't tired at all.