Late summer of 4E 186, Whiterun
"A pleasure as always, Vilkas. Won't you consider gathering plant ingredients for me as well?"
"I don't really have time for those," Vilkas took the payment from Arcadia and shook his head.
"Worth a try," the alchemist smiled. "I am glad for what you bring in, don't take me wrong. Creature based ingredients are much harder to get."
"Whatever tries to kill me on assignments, you can have," Vilkas afforded a rare smile, as small as it was. "Have a good day."
Arcadia waved her hand absently, as she already turned to shelving her new load of goods.
Vilkas walked out to the streets of Whiterun. Soon, the khajiit caravan should arrive, according to what Ri'saad had said last time. Several more days at maximum.
He had been saving up over the time and managed to get quite the load. All stashed in a safe place.
He could buy so many books with it…
He entered Jorrvaskr. Bornolf and his pack were eyeing him, but they didn't dare try to take his money anymore. They still fought once in a while, but since Farkas had grown like a mammoth and they both got better at what they did, they kept a satisfactory score at giving the thugs good thrashing.
Vilkas ignored them and went downstairs. He continued down the hall all the way to the back, to Kodlak's antechamber.
The Harbinger was there, smoking pipe and taking notes.
"Good hunt?" he asked, not bothering to look up.
"Good enough," Vilkas sat down, took a roll of papers and started inspecting them. A mess as usual.
"Why are we accepting jobs that include beating merchants? Isn't that dishonorable?" he frowned, looking at one note.
"I took that down," Kodlak sighed and put his notebook away. "Someone pinned it this morning. I believe the same offer had been put up with the Silver Stallions not long after."
"That new mercenary band?" Vilkas started redoing the whole financial report from the past days.
"The one."
"Weren't they originally operating in Windhelm?"
"Yes, but I have the feeling taking our spot is far more interesting than living in a frozen wall of greyness for most of the year."
"Are we going to do anything about this?" Vilkas tapped the offending posting.
"I asked Erika to look into it."
"Just Erika?"
"She can handle it. I do wonder why Embla refused to teach her."
Vilkas flinched. He knew Kodlak didn't mean anything bad, but his strengths lay outside of the sphere of people's headspaces. At least unless they were grown warriors.
Embla had also lessened the time she spent on training him.
Did she deem him unworthy?
"How have things been with Bornolf?" Kodlak's question pulled him out of thoughts.
"Better," Vilkas said after a long deliberation.
"Good. I knew you could deal with the likes of him," Kodlak nodded contentedly. "How about you start going for jobs with me?"
Vilkas finished the calculations he had been doing. "Weren't you shaping Skjor into a successor?"
"Aye," Kodlak rested his arms on the table, "and I intend to continue. But tell me, my boy, isn't it foolish to have only one capable man at hand? What if both Skjor and I perish? Who will take care of the Companions then? Embla is too wild and erratic. Hrakni is gone. Sig refuses to deal with the thinking, and she is planning to bear a child too. Norni is too old, even though he is refusing to admit that. That's everyone available right now from the experienced old guard."
He looked right into Vilkas' eyes. "Erika is doing well, but not as well as you. You also have the advantage of Farkas always backing you, no matter what happens. There are a few more promising recruits, but none have managed to convince me so far."
Vilkas nodded. That made sense. But he couldn't avoid the bitter thought - if Skjor becomes the Harbinger, Farkas and I are as good as gone. He wouldn't do anything outright dishonorable, no…but he would find a way to get rid of us.
"Why is Skjor unsatisfied with us?" he asked instead.
Kodlak sighed. "He is not angry with you, per se. He is angry with Jergen and me. Jergen for bringing you and leaving, me for asking him to help raise you. He is…not one suited for childcare."
"Why didn't you leave us at the temple, then?" Vilkas' eyes darkened the tiniest bit.
"Jergen decided to bring you into the family. We do not abandon family."
Isn't that what you have been doing the whole time, though?
Vilkas forced the thought down. Instead he took the quill again and returned to the accounts. "True."
XXX
The caravan had camped and unpacked some time ago. As Vilkas made his way there, he saw several groups of Whiterun citizens coming back from trading with the khajiit.
When he arrived, Ri'saad was in the middle of haggling with Hulda, the innkeeper.
Vilkas sat down on one of the logs they other khajiit had fashioned into seats and waited. Few of the cat-folk greeted him, having grown used to seeing him during their every visit.
Hulda looked pleased. She even nodded at Vilkas as she went by.
"Our young Companion has arrived!" Ri'saad flashed a wide, toothy smile. "This one has pleasing news for you," he got up from his cushioned seat and motioned for Vilkas to follow.
Ri'saad led him to one of the wagons, guarded by a large, quadrupedal khajiit. The fur of that one made Vilkas remember his elusive leopard.
The khajiit was probably a senche-raht, if Vilkas remembered his books well. This one was massive, and, at the shoulders, taller than him.
He greeted the senche-raht, who gave a content smile. The senche-raht then stepped aside to allow Ri'saad to open the wagon.
"This one hasn't managed to gather all the titles you have asked for," Ri'saad commented as he went through carefully packed goods, "but he found a few. And quite the number of tomes you might also be interested in, Companion."
He pulled a packet of books in blue cloth. "And your notebooks, of course."
He unpacked them for Vilkas to inspect, then brought several more packages out and opened them as well.
"The usual price for a batch of these?" Vilkas asked. The notebooks were compact, neither too thick or thin, and quite durable. Perfect fit for his enchanted satchel.
"For you, always a favourable price. This one will even offer a sale if you pick more, Companion."
Vilkas nodded, looking at the books. Lycanthropic Legends, Druidic Lore of the Systress, Woodland Women of High Rock, several historical books, few martial technique manuals, few bestiaries and geography concerned books, Songs of the Reach and a rather thin volume on Reachmen tribes.
Vilkas looked through the Reach related tomes and put all of them aside, as well as Lycanthropic Legends. Then he picked one bestiary, two historical books, one containing notes on Wrothgar geography, and then started deliberating between a few more.
Ri'saad tapped the Druidic Lore and the Woodland Women. "This one thinks those two will catch your interest, Companion. It is not light reading for young men, let Ri'saad assure you."
Vilkas reddened.
Ri'saad chuckled. "We do carry some of those, but this one thought you would not be interested. Do you want this one to-"
"No, no need!" Vilkas snatched the Woodland Women and started flipping through. As he did, the redness of his cheeks disappeared, replaced with focused interest.
He put the book on the pile, but returned Druidic Lore. "Now let's talk price."
XXX
As he was placing his new hoard in a lockable chest under his bed, Vilkas thought money well spent. He did spend almost all of his savings and forsook a few empty notebooks, but, in the end, got Druidic Lore as well.
"Oi, whelp!" Skjor's voice rang through the hall.
Vilkas sighed, locked the chest and went out of the dorm. Skjor didn't use this tone when he was talking to the other whelps, so he was calling for him specifically.
"There's a request from Markarth," Skjor shot him a look. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand and there were two people behind him - Bornolf and Erika.
"It concerns hagravens. I picked the most suitable fighters, but you should go too. You have faced one before. You can give advice." Skjor grimaced. "Don't get them killed too, whelp."
"Aye," was all Vilkas allowed. None of the frosty feeling rising in his chest broke through his unfazed expression.
"You leave in two days," Skjor walked past and shoved the posting against Vilkas' chest.
XXX
"You look utterly ridiculous," Bornolf commented, again. Must have been around the hundredth time already.
Vilkas didn't react, just continued riding in silence. Erika was looking at him too, ever since he showed up geared for the mission. While the two put on usual sets of armor, he was a little more thorough - padded, mail and then plate on top.
Add to that the pile of potions he spent his last money on, he looked like he was preparing for an outright war with the Reachmen.
"You won't be able to move at all."
No reaction.
Bornolf scoffed, his eyebrow twitching. "You really are useless, aren't you. Skjor was right, only thing you can and should do is to step back and let us finish the job."
"Shut your trap!" Erika exploded. "We are supposed to be shield-siblings! You are a disgrace, Bornolf!"
Silence spread among them.
"And we all know he could kick your ass," Erika grinned after a while. "You and your little band are not doing so well recently, and there are just the two of them."
"That's not true!"
Bornolf and Erika bickered some more. At one point, both of them turned to Vilkas.
They grew quiet.
His face was glum and his silver eyes shone like lone stars in the black war paint the twins had started wearing recently. His mood froze so violently even the two older warriors felt it.
"You'll wish you had prepared more," he said softly.
After that, he traded not a word with them.
XXX
As per usual, they left the horses at Markarth stables. Then they trekked through the Reach, following winding mountain paths covered in junipers.
Vilkas and Erika were doing quite well.
Bornolf…not so much. As they waited for him to catch up, Erika turned to Vilkas. "So what can you tell me about the target?"
"They look bizarre. Don't be fooled. They are quick, cunning and vicious. Powerful magic. Sharp claws. Have you ever seen my scars? Good. I survived by sheer luck, because back then she didn't cut that deep. Usually there are Forsworn about, too."
Erika frowned. "It would be best to shoot her, then."
"Aye," Vilkas stretched, "but like I said, cunning. They will be hiding, probably with guard. Luring them out is going to be dangerous and difficult."
"I will scout," Erika winked at him. "Then we can decide on a plan."
Vilkas nodded. He shot a look Bornolf's way.
I doubt the idiot is going to listen to us, though.
XXX
Finally.
The tower they had been looking for came into view. An old, ruined structure, sitting in a small valley. The valley had been repurposed as a garden of sorts - Vilkas could recognise some of the deadliest plants Embla had taught him about. But there also were little trees. Small sprouts growing around a larger one.
Bones lay scattered around their roots.
Their blood-red leaves fluttered and whispered with the wind.
The air also carried a peculiar sound. Vilkas tried to listen for it specifically, but at this distance, its precise nature kept eluding him.
So far Bornolf agreed with scouting. Vilkas and Erika moved around, observing the valley. From time to time, small groups of Forsworn moved about their business with the hagraven, carrying things in, out, collecting plants from the garden, or, worse, bringing corpses to the tower.
They never saw the hagraven come out.
"Our best bet is early in the morning," Erika sat down with the other two. "We can see well enough in that light and there were no groups coming so early in the day."
Bornolf nodded.
"We sneak in, maybe catch her unprepared and gut her as fast as possible. Understood? No unnecessary heroics, no staying longer than needed, cut her head and out."
"I'm not stupid, he is," Bornolf growled. He was growing more and more impatient, Vilkas could see it from his tapping feet. "Let's sleep, so we can be done with this damned place."
XXX
"What in Oblivion?"
Erika and Vilkas snapped to Bornolf. He split from them and instead of trying to sneak into the tower, he went to have a look at the strange red trees.
"The things have a heartbeat! And there are so many corpses here-" he covered his mouth and backed away, looking like he was going to throw up.
Vilkas caught the sound of raspy breath.
A click of claws.
He vaulted to the side.
A ramshackle door covering the entry to the tower flew out, hitting Bornolf in the back.
The world turned white in an explosion of noise and fire.
Vilkas hugged the wall of the tower. He slid to the side, narrowly avoiding the claws of the hag.
"My lovelies, dinner has come," the hag giggled, pulling the claws down the stone blocks. She stepped out.
An arrow whistled through the air.
The hag dodged, surprisingly swift. She caught the next arrow mid-flight.
"Aren't you a plump little dumpling?" she grinned at Erika. Her hand moved upwards. Giant spikes of ice rose up from the ground, catching Erika as she tried to flee.
Vilkas jumped in, blade striking forward as a snake. The hag screeched, backing away. She turned to the side, swiping her claws as she retreated.
Vilkas stepped out of the claw's reach. After the claws missed, he followed, blade of his longsword flashing in the morning light, putting more pressure on the hag. Erika, blood coming down her thighs, finally managed to disentangle herself from the spikes.
Bornolf regained his senses. He climbed out of the wooden remnants, drew his weapon and charged at the hag.
She sent a hissing bead of fire straight at his chest.
Vilkas backed away, running around the tower to put more stone between him and the coming explosion.
At the corner of his eye he saw Erika mimicking his course.
Heartbeats later, an explosion shook the very ground beneath their feet. Vilkas' ears went deaf, then started ringing horribly.
Huffing, he turned around, starting into a full sprint.
The hag had moved in on Bornolf, unaffected by her own magic. Luckily for Vilkas, she hadn't gotten there yet. More space for footwork.
The hag spun, leaving Bornolf to flail on the ground. She shot an ice lance at Vilkas. He dodged narrowly, changing his course the slightest amount. It flew past, leaving an icy cover on his helmet.
He struck. The hag hit the blade with her claws, swaying it off course. She immediately counterattacked.
Vilkas sidestepped. He moved the longsword around, forcing the hag to keep distance.
At least, for her - he could still reach with the sword.
But that was not as important as…
He attacked twice in quick succession, forcing the hag to move unless she wanted to be slashed. Should be in the riiiight place just about-
"You are starting to annoy-" the hag started, her hand lighting up with flames.
Thunk!
An arrow pierced right through her head.
Vilkas breathed out. Erika made the shot perfectly.
"Yeah! That's how you-"
Bornolf's cheer was cut short. Just as Vilkas turned to look at Erika, an elongated hand emerged from the darkened tower entrance. As fast as the wind, it cut to the side.
Right where Erika was standing.
Her armor and stomach opened like ripe fruit.
Her eyes bulged and her mouth opened to scream. As she slid down to the ground against the wall, another hag emerged from the tower, cackling.
Bornolf screeched in horror.
"Well, I had hoped Moira would take care of you annoying little kernels, but now that she is dead, all of this is mine alone."
Vilkas didn't wait for her to finish the speech. He sprung forward, zig-zagging towards the tower.
Jets of searing hot flames greeted him.
The third one engulfed him whole, as the hag managed to guess where he'd step next.
Oh gods, please make the potion do its work!
He felt heat. Uncomfortable, simmering heat.
But no burning.
He leapt through the flames, covering the last bit of distance.
His blade sliced tight through her torso. She screeched into his face and slashed violently at him in a last attempt of taking him along with her.
The claws cut through the plate. They damaged the mail. But didn't even reach the padding.
With that, she went limp.
Vilkas tore the claw out of his armor. He threw the dead body to the side and knelt next to Erika.
She was still alive.
He reached into his enchanted bag and pulled out his only ultimate healing potion. He had been saving this one up for months now.
"Erika," he called out and lifted her head a little. "Drink," he started to gently pour it in her mouth, hoping for the best.
She managed to swallow at least some. As she did, a soft golden glow appeared around her wound.
Vilkas helped push some intestines that got out back in. Luckily she managed to hold them mostly in place with her hands.
The potion's magic should take care of the rest.
At least well enough until they get to a proper healer in Markarth.
The intestines started to move to their right place as soon as they got inside, and the flesh began knitting back together.
"Get all of it down," Vilkas moved the bottle a little bit to get more potion to her.
She weakly grabbed at the bottle. "L-look-out!"
Vilkas got to his feet and spun around. Bornolf was not there. Instead, a group of three Forsworn could be seen running down the valley.
"Shit," Vilkas hurriedly grabbed Erika's bow, lying on the ground. There shouldn't have been any patrols this soon. Did the idiot run? Did they see him and came to check on the hags?
He grabbed a bunch of arrows from her quiver. One archer was at the back of the group, readying to shoot.
Vilkas drew the bow, aimed and released.
The arrow hit the archer's stomach.
Vilkas dropped the bow, ripped his sword out of the hag's body and raised it just in time to block a toothy, primitive weapon of one of the Forsworn.
The other landed a hit on his side. The hit shook him uncomfortably, but the armor blocked all of the damage.
Vilkas pushed the blade to the side, stepping away from the other assailant. When the first tried to force himself closer, robbing Vilkas of his reach, he grabbed the man and yanked him, sending him stumbling further away.
Thank the gods, these are not the best fed warriors.
He swung his sword, going for the two-handed grip again. The blade cut deep into the man's thigh. As he screamed, Vilkas tore it out. He spun to face the first man, stepping away.
A toothed blade landed on his arm. But instead of sinking deep into his flesh, the teeth ground on the chainmail.
Vilkas dropped his sword and grabbed the attacker. He ripped his saex free from its sheath, stabbing at the man's side violently. He twisted the blade, tore it out and stepped aside.
A hit landed on his back. Strong enough to make him stumble. Before he could regain his composure, the wounded forsworn jumped him, tearing them both down to the ground.
Vilkas managed to not land on his stomach, at least. They rolled around, fighting for his saex.
In the end, he managed to stab it right through the man's throat.
As he was getting up, the last fighter entered the close-range scene. Arrow sticking out of his stomach, he stabbed with a spear, laying all his weight on it.
Vilkas barely managed to avoid it going through the cuts left by the hag earlier. The strength of the hit pushed him back to the ground, pressing air out of his lungs. Before he could react, the man dropped the spear, grabbed a rock and hit Vilkas in the head.
And then the man slumped over Vilkas.
Head ringing badly, Vilkas threw the body off, scrambling to his feet. His own spear ended embedded in the man - Erika crawled over and managed to use just enough strength to kill him.
Vilkas, trying to catch his breath, finished off the last.
He leaned against the tower, legs shaking a little. "Did your wound open again?"
"No, but it's not good. The pain is making stars spin before my eyes."
"Here, have one more potion. I don't have any more ultimates, though," he took out two and drank one himself.
"Bornolf?" Erika asked after she finished hers.
"Gone with the wind," Vilkas growled. He finally managed to gather himself. He took a small hatchet out of his pack and went to cut off all the limbs from the hags.
"What are you doing?"
"We need proof of the kill. The claws and feathers sell pretty well, too," Vilkas finished the job as quickly as possible. Then he cut off the tail plumage and stuffed everything into one of his packs.
"Come on, we need to disappear before more patrols come."
Erika nodded. She leaned on him and they, wincing in pain, made their way out of the valley.
XXX
I usually struggle with fighting scenes. Why do I keep writing so many of them? We'll never know.
