An Ill-fated Wish

[Sandy River DL]

It was strange. The world slowing to a crawl in dangerous situations was something you often see in movies but never actually expect to experience in real life. But here I was, watching the tumbling semi-truck bouncing after being bodily hurled aside by the draconic cape that was currently beating the local Protectorate like a drum. Completely unable to react, let alone get out of the way, because my brain was running in overdrive rather than me having superpowers. All that I got was the time to contemplate my own imminent death.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you're a bit of trouble there."

If I could have, I'd have flinched at the sudden voice in my head. This seemed like the kind of thing that would come from a Master cape. Though someone about to die was an odd choice of victim.

"Relax child. I'm not here to make a puppet of you, I just want to make a deal. I save you from certain death, and you retrieve something of mine that needs to be returned! Honestly, you're even getting the better of this particular bargain, since a simple fetch quest isn't much compared to your life, now is it?"

"I… fine," I 'said' to the voice. "I'll play errand girl for you. Now can you get me out of this?"

"Of course, of course! Now, mind the drop!"

The world around me sped back up to normal as I was engulfed in a swirling vortex of midnight purple light, cutting off my view of the truck only a foot in front of my face. And then I was falling.

***​

A burning pain in the base of my neck jolted me awake. When had I…? Then my eyes opened, and I saw a figure hunched over me in a position that would place their head…

My knee buried itself in the vampire's gut as I screamed, desperately trying to get the blood sucking cape off me. Both my hands scrabbled at them, seeking something, anything to further that goal. One found a knife that I yanked free even as I felt a burning pain flare on my neck, fangs digging in around what I was sure was my jugular vein. Guided by what had to be some native instinct, the blade slammed into my assailant's chest, jerking in my grip as it scraped across a rib on its way in.

Shoving the suddenly limp figure off of myself, I staggered to my feet and carefully retrieved the knife. Its edge was rolled and dull, whether from my clumsy attack or poor maintenance, I couldn't tell. But I'd have to make do until I found something better. Killing… I wasn't sure how I actually felt about that, but I didn't know how dangerous this place was or if there were more… vampires… about. A shudder ran down my spine at the thought.

"This isn't what I agreed to…" I groaned, my free hand pressing against the wound on my neck. Strangely, it didn't seem to be bleeding much, despite the fangs that had been buried there only seconds ago.

"Actually, you did," came that voice. "Sure, some details may have been left out, and assumptions weren't corrected, but still. You did agree to retrieve something for me in exchange for me saving you…"

I almost collapsed spinning around to look for the speaker, a wave of light-headedness and nausea rolling over me. There, in the gloom of what I could now see to be a torch-lit cave, was a statue of a man holding a horned helmet depicting a man's face.

"And really, if you couldn't handle a single vampire, how could you uphold your end of the bargain? Honestly lassie, you wouldn't be able to find Barbas, let alone actually retrieve the item I need you to get."

Winter poured into my veins as whatever the hell I'd bargained with laughed this light, mirthful laugh like he was some boy-hero type. Like how some of the local Wards did. Except it wasn't a nice laugh, practiced or not. It was… twisted… somehow, and it felt wrong.

"Who… who are you?" I hissed as a chill set in. "What do you want from me?"

"Who am I? Why, I am Clavicus Vile, Prince of Bargains. And as for what I want… there's an axe. An axe powerful enough for me to have quite a bit of fun indeed… As I recall, it's resting in Rimerock Burrow. My dog Barbas can lead you right to it, assuming you can find the pesky mutt."

Then a wave of static crawled over my skin as a crushing presence filled the chamber.

"I could be persuaded to make another deal with you once you return too, if you're interested…"

Stumbling backwards a bit, I drew in several ragged breaths before managing to reply. "Wh-what kind of deal? Another one that sends me from one danger to another?"

"So suspicious of you, little one. Vampires rarely drain their prey to death, and you handled yourself pretty well all things considered…"

The being… Clavicus Vile… laughed again, setting a chill off along my spine. "Oh, don't you worry, that was merely a result of me bringing you here from your 'Earth Bet'. I can assure you that nothing like that will happen again… Oh! And since you aren't all that familiar with the heroic adventurer business, there's some things you can take in the chest behind my shrine here. Do be sure not to freeze to death by the way, it'd be embarrassing for the both of us."

I stared at the statue, shivering as the vast presence of… whatever the hell Clavicus was washed over me. Freeze to death? Embarrassing? What the fuck?

You know what, I didn't care. Stumbling a bit, I made my way around the statue to a flight of aged stone stairs leading up to a platform. There, as was said, was a large iron-banded chest that took some effort to open. A sword of a strange black metal laid atop a set of what seemed to be a mixture of furs and small blued steel plates. Armor of some sort, if I had to guess. The fur, combined with the comment about the possibility of freezing to death was a rather definite sign I was nowhere near home. Add in the comment about 'your Earth Bet'...

I'd been taken to another world. And between the vampire and the combat stuff… This was an even worse place than Bet. Medieval at best, given the fact that it was a sword and steel plate armor instead of guns. I shuddered. This… this was going to suck. My fantasy novels had most definitely not prepared me for this. Though admittedly, I did like the sound of 'Taylor Hebert, Lady Adventurer'…

Hesitantly, I lifted the sword from the chest and gave it a cautious swing. It seemed good to me, but I wasn't sure, as the balance was very different from the various knives Mom had taught me to handle. It was also surprisingly light, and easy to control despite the length. The iridescent shimmer of the metal was strange, and the intensity of the darkness was not what I'd have expected from blackened steel. Honestly, it looked like someone had made the blade from a shadow or a piece of night sky, not metal. It was that impossibly dark.

Carefully setting the sword aside, I reached back into the chest and pulled out the mass of metal and fur with a grunt of effort. It too was lighter than it appeared to be at first glance, but was still fairly heavy. Coarse white fur lined the inside, turning out at the neck to presumably help keep the wearer's neck warm. Despite the differences in style and type, I couldn't help but be reminded of Armsmaster by the color combination.

Draping the armor over the edge of the chest, I gingerly peeled off my bloodstained hoodie and tossed it aside, before sliding on the clean and more protective garment. I almost immediately removed it and facepalmed. "Right, check for other pieces before armoring up. This stuff isn't normal clothes where the pants can go on after the shirt."

Returning my attention to the chest, I pulled out first a pair of quilted pants made of a heavy wool, followed by a set of thick gloves with strips of metal riveted on, and two solid boots. The boots weren't normal boots with a plastic or rubber sole, but seemed to have been made by lacing together pieces of leather and fur to create presumably water resistant footwear. I gave them a somewhat dubious look, but set them with the rest, as my tennis shoes would be worth squat in more than half-an-inch of snow. Finally, there was a leather belt with a scabbard that looked about the right size for the sword, and an old-style leather bound book, complete with closing latch. On the cover was a strange symbol resembling some sort of arch, and the thing had an unusual feeling to it, like there was a Van Der Graff generator inside somehow.

Changing into the armor was, to say the least, awkward. The cave wasn't exactly warm, and I had to ditch my shoes, put on the heavy pants, then get the boots on, while trying to minimize the amount of time I was in contact with the cold stone floor. Perching on or leaning against the chest at various points helped, but I was still chilled by the process, though part of that was likely just the fact that I was dressed for late spring in the unusually mild Brockton Bay, not winter. At least, I guessed it was winter, as the idea that it was that cold even in summer wasn't one I wanted to entertain.

Securing the belt around my waist and sheathing the sword, I gave the tome a thoughtful look before attaching it to what seemed to be a harness designed for carrying such. A final check of the chest found a small bag tucked into a corner. I grabbed it too and almost dropped it at the combination of greater-than-expected weight and the dull clinking of coinage. It couldn't be… Gingerly pulling the bag's drawstring, I opened it up and blinked.

"Gold coins. Actual, no shit gold coins. This is nuts…" Yeah, I was definitely not in Kansas anymore, and I didn't even have a dog for company. Plucking out a coin, I held it up in the torchlight and gave it a closer look. One side bore a face in profile, which was pretty standard, while the other had a stylized dragon emblem of a very different design to any I'd even seen, almost resembling a bat clinging to a wall with a more reptilian body. The inscriptions looked vaguely like Latin, but were also clearly not. And, somehow, I was able to get a general idea of what it said.

"Minted by order of Titus Mede II 4E 196?" I read off the glittering metal disc. "So this place is part of an empire then? Possibly Romanish too, if the aesthetics on this are anything to go by. Joy…"

Shaking my head, I placed the coin back in the bag, which itself went into a small pouch on my belt. Surprisingly, it slid in without any noticeable weight increase despite being a not inconsiderate amount of gold. Slipping my fingers in after it, I found nothing. I looked down, and blinked.

"What the fuck? Is this some sort of magical item?" Magic… would probably take some getting used to. Parahumans may have been a thing, but that wasn't the same. Or was it? Come to think of it, how were people sure magic wasn't involved in at least some powers? I was hardly special enough to be the first person to wind up dealing with it. I mean, it was possible, but it seemed unlikely.

Twisting my fingers a little, like I was grabbing something, and suddenly I had the… coin purse I guess again. Huh. So that's how this thing worked. Useful trick that, I'd want to see about finding a larger one for supplies, assuming there were such and it wasn't rare or expensive. Being able to carry food and camping equipment around without the bulk and weight would be a great help in the sort of journey I'd managed to get caught up in, given my lack of ponies or Fellowship.

Sighing, I turned to the heavy wooden door set into the wall behind the chest and heaved the locking bar off of its supports. Then, with a grunt of effort, pulled the mass of solid timber into motion. A blast of fridge wind slammed into me the moment the door began to shift, demonstrating precisely why the armor was well insulated. Shivering, I slid my new hood up and adjusted it slightly. A scarf wouldn't be unwelcome if this was how the weather was going to be.

Stepping out into the snow-encrusted passage, I let out a hiss as light levels suddenly spiked. Clouds parting to let sunlight reflect off of fresh snow probably. Adjusting my hood again, I began walking. A dozen strides and a half-turn brought me to within sight of the entrance, and what I saw brought me to a halt. Before me was a mountain pass, covered with thick layers of gleaming white snowpack traversable only by a narrow and winding path.

Lofty peaks soared above, shining in early morning light that streamed down the gap between mountains that shimmered with ice and frost. If I were out in the open, the glare would've been blinding. As it was, I still squinted at the dramatic increase in brightness over the torch-lit cave. A helmet with view slits would've been rather nice right now, as that'd cut down on the light. As it was, I'd want to do my best to avoid snow blindness through other means, and get somewhere less snowy as quickly as I could. Hopefully it would be warmer once I was out of the mountains…

One final adjustment to my hood, and I stepped out of the tunnel into the pass, flinching as the glare intensified around me as the rock opened up around me. Was snow always this bright? Or is it something to do with this place maybe having less pollution? Whatever the case, it sucked. A lot. Taking a few paces, I stumbled slightly as the soft soles of the boots failed to grip the icy ground properly. This… could be a problem.

Letting out a low groan, I shifted to a more cautious shuffle-step that I hoped would reduce slippage and began making my way down to the main path. From what I could see from my slight vantage point, my best bet would be to head west, as the east looked to be snowier and the snowpack on the slopes there appeared to be steeper. Getting buried by an avalanche was not in my plans. That would rather hamper my ability to get this quest done with and getting home to Dad.

Shaking that off, I began carefully picking my way downslope, doing my best to avoid both drifts and particularly bright spots. Twisting an ankle out in what I had to assume was the middle of nowhere would probably be almost as deadly as rockslides or avalanches. Which, again, would negatively impact my ability to get home. On top of being a really damn embarrassing way to die.

Avoiding exposure deaths from minor accidents aside, I also didn't have any food or water, and a hearty bowl of hot soup, a roaring fire, and a good book sounded like exactly what I needed at this point. I could even go without the book, if none were available in whatever town or village was on this pass's road. That would depend heavily on how medieval this place actually was, and if some of the more common fantasy tropes applied. A girl could definitely hope for it being a world where a lot of the modern niceties existed despite the relative primitiveness elsewhere.

An eerie howl suddenly cut through the air. Attempting to draw my sword, I almost fell as I lost track of my footing and my balance briefly was ruined as snow shifted under my boot. Staggering, I barely avoided falling and managed to come about to face the noise, only to catch a face full of wind and snow. Flailing with the blade to ward off whatever it was making the sound, I desperately cleared my vision, only to blink. There was nothing there but the wind. I'd been spooked by a change in air flow through gaps in the surrounding rocks.

Then an ice-cold something slammed into me.

Frantically sucking air, I looked up to see a serpentine mass of ice crystals circling above me, as if judging where best to strike again. Somehow, I hadn't dropped the sword, so I swung it at the thing. And missed, because my attack was so clumsy and heavily telegraphed that I was pretty sure a tree would have dodged it.

Pushing myself to my feet again, I took another swing at the creature, this time with somewhat more deliberation. Flames erupted along the blade as the tip grazed the icy being, causing it to recoil with a shriek that almost made me drop my weapon at the sound. It then lunged at me, coming from above like lightning. A deep chill spread through my left shoulder as the thing's jaws clamped around it. Part of me, what little wasn't screaming, noted that the bite had been stopped by my armor. The rest of me however wanted the damn thing off.

My left hand, hindered by the creature as it was, wrapped around its midsection and yanked. My right brought the sword down. A blast of heat and cold washed over me as the thing exploded and collapsed into a pile of pulverized ice. I blinked several times, staring at the remnants in stunned silence. There were a few larger pieces in the heap, and on impulse I plucked them out and dropped them into my belt pouch. Who knew, they might be either useful or valuable.

 

[Sandy River DL]

Interesting. Mainly interested in seeing when she goes home with all her adventuring gains. I don't find Skyrim as compelling a fic setting as Brockton.

Click to shrink...

In the interest of being fair to readers, the vast majority of this story will be within the Elder Scrolls universe. We're endeavoring to make this different from other Skyrim fics however, and there will be quite a few differences from the game, some from the incorporation of mods, while others are from scaling up the world from the small game map. Taylor is not Dragonborn, for example, and will only have incidental interaction with Skyrim's main questline. If this is not for you, we still appreciate that you check it out.

 

[Sandy River DL]

Around noon - based on the height of the sun at least - I began smelling wood smoke, which meant that I was approaching people. Whether it was someone camping in the wilderness or a sign of more significant habitation I couldn't tell. At this point, I wasn't sure I cared. I might not have been a social butterfly like Emma, but that didn't matter given the situation. I'd take what I could get if it meant getting somewhere warm and my stomach filled.

Though if it were some creep exiled from society for abusing kids, I probably would deal with that rather differently than if it were a hunter's camp. My magic sword would be involved.

As I rounded the next bend, I found myself overlooking a vast sea of deep blue-tinged green. A pine forest stretching out to the horizon, larger than anything I'd ever seen that wasn't the Atlantic. The nature camp my parents had sent me to the past few years would fit in this… ocean of trees and just vanish like it didn't even exist. Even the entire city of Brockton Bay would be dwarfed by it.

"This… I didn't realize that things like this could really exist…" I exhaled. Okay, probably a bit hyperbolic, but I was a city girl born and raised. This wild majesty was more than a little outside my context. "It's… beautiful…"

Nestled on the slopes below and to my right was a town surrounded by a cyclopean wall of rough-cut gray stone. The source of the smoke I was smelling most likely. A rustic place by the look of it, with an unusual but surprisingly synergistic blend of Roman and Viking Age Norse aesthetics that gave it an appearance of being a Norse settlement that had been taken over by a Legion.

Sweeping my gaze across my surroundings, taking in the stunning view around me. A little ways onward was what looked to be another road joining the one I was on, and there was a signpost on the far side of the junction.

"Helgen, one league. Bruma, twelve leagues." I looked from the sign to the town and back. "Well, now I know where I'm going. I'll have to ask around where I should go from there though. Going back into the mountains isn't something that seems like a good idea unless this place is right on the edge of civilization and that forest is untamed wilderness."

I really hoped it wasn't a frontier town, that would suck to deal with. Or if it was, maybe that… Rimerock place was close by? Being miles from anywhere meaningfully developed would matter a fair bit less if it was close to the location of my fetch quest. Though going by my current luck, I'd find the… dog? That was supposed to guide me easily, but then need to hike for a couple weeks to get to the place.

Was I being cynical? Probably at least a bit, but I'd almost died to a flying truck, been bitten by a vampire, and attacked by an airborne frost snake thing. It was allowed. And besides, I was always being told to hope for the best while planning for the worst. Operating on the assumption that everything would go wrong at some point wasn't a bad approach, especially when I'd found myself in another world entirely. It could be said that things had already gone wrong, even.

With that bit of philosophizing done with, I began making my way down the road towards Helgen. As spectacular as the view was, I needed a meal and a nap, which I wouldn't get standing around gaping at a forest. It was best to get a move on for other reasons as well, like not getting jumped by bandits or something. Being alone on the road was never a good idea in stories, and while I hadn't had an encounter aside from that icy serpent thing, being careful wasn't a bad idea. And while fantasy novels aren't a great source of advice, I didn't exactly learn how to handle being sent to another world in school. Even Earth Bet didn't get that weird.

Nearby, low bushes rustled and a rabbit burst out onto the path, only for a fox to pounce on it before it could move more than a foot. A smug vulpine 'yip' was directed at me before the red furred predator picked up its kill in its jaws and leapt back into the brush. I stared after the animal for a long moment, before moving on. That wasn't a sight I'd seen even at nature camp, as the wildlife was far too skittish around people there for it to happen. Still it was a sign I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings, as next time it would be something more dangerous for me. Like, say, bandits or a rabid animal.

As the crossroads sign promised, I reached the town gates roughly an hour after I passed it and doing so was a relief. Passing a bored-looking guard, I dropped onto a convenient bench with an exhausted groan. I'd been on my feet for a good eight or nine hours by then, on top of having been up already for the better part of a day when… things happened. Probably the main reason I didn't pass out on the spot was that I was actually too tired to do that. Weird how that works out isn't it.

Leaning over, I began carefully massaging my legs through the thick fabric covering them, doing my best to relax the sore muscles more used to moving between classrooms than multi-hour hikes in the mountains. It honestly amazed me that I'd been able to make it as far as I had, what with the amount of time I'd been active and the fact that I was pretty sure I was high enough up at first that I should've gotten altitude sickness. In fact, I might still have been high up enough to be feeling it. That might've meant something, but what that might be I wasn't sure. I was ahead in English, not science.

Letting out a soft sigh, I reluctantly heaved myself back to my feet. Sitting around on a bench wasn't going to get me food or information about just where the fuck I was. That would require going to the local inn. Or tavern, pub, meeting hall, or whatever they had here. Stumbling a little, I began making my way down the packed earth street, passing an eclectic assortment of timber and cobb houses that bore only a passing resemblance to each other. My destination, as it turned out, was basically right around the corner from the gate. Which made sense really, as that put it in a convenient location for travelers and merchants. The local market was likely close-by too, assuming none of the buildings I'd just passed weren't shops I'd missed the signage of.

Limping slightly at that point, I gingerly walked to the Helgen Homestead. Was it the site of the original home that the town grew around? Hopefully the proprietor knew. Even if they didn't, food and rest would be available and that was the most important thing. Sating my curiosity over the inn's name could wait until I'd taken care of my stomach. Food was rather important when one hasn't eaten for ages while hiking after all.

At that moment, I felt my cheeks begin to heat up as a loud gurgling rumble sounded. Yeah, a large meal was definitely my top priority right now. Then, sleep. I could ask questions in the morning, when I wasn't exhausted.

Pushing the door open, I found myself in a homely place with a handful of patrons sitting at a bar in one corner, next to a large fireplace complete with massive stew pot that was filling the space with a mouth-watering scent. Another loud gurgling noise from me drew the attention of a young blonde woman in a low-cut dress, who hastened over with a clear look of concern plastered over her freckles face.

"Oh you poor thing!" She exclaimed in a tongue that vaguely reminded me of Mom reciting Old English poetry, yet was as clear to me as my native language. "Were you separated from your group lass? The Jeralls are dangerous to travel along for adults, and I can't begin to imagine doing so as a child, even with the Empire keeping the area around the pass relatively clear…"

Despite everything, I couldn't help but flinch at the utterance of 'Empire', even with the fact that I knew she was referring to the local government and not Brockton Bay's Nazi Problem. And something that could very easily be misinterpreted as me being a rebel or criminal of some sort. An assumption that the waitress - or would it be tavern wench? - seemed to have made.

"Not much of a fan eh?" She asked with a slight smile. "Can't say you aren't in good company here. The Medes haven't had the best reputation here in Skyrim to start with, and the terms of the Concordat made them quite a few enemies here. Talos having been a national hero of ours in life is the most of it for us Nords, but what has a Breton on edge about them like that?"

Breton? Did she think I was from Brittany or… wait, no. This was a different world with its own cultures and peoples, She'd just mistaken me for a member of a different local ethnic group.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to pry or anything. Come, let's get you warmed up and a good meal in you. If you don't have the coin, don't worry about it and just find a few odd jobs around town to cover it."

Oh, and it seemed she mistook my confused silence for not wanting to talk about it. Interesting. Being able to make pocket money by helping out people was… actually sort of what was to be expected from roleplaying games, honestly. And it wasn't like kids doing so was all that out of the ordinary even back home, albeit as more of a thing from when my parents were young. Though here it would probably be chopping wood, going out to pick flowers or other ingredients, tracking down a missing heirloom, or feeding livestock, rather than mowing lawns and delivering newspapers. Hopefully I already had enough in my purse to cover a few meals and a night or two though, as having to do random work to pay would be annoying and would likely delay me getting sleep.

I really don't want that.

Allowing her to guide me to a seat next to the fire, I settled in and fished out my money, not wanting to waste time on getting things. As she began loading a wooden bowl with what I was finally able to identify as a rabbit stew, I started counting out the gold I had.

A gasp drew my attention back to her as I was pulling out my twentieth. "Lass! A meal is only three Septims! You could buy most of a week's stay for that…"

I glanced down at the small stack of coins in surprise. I knew money went quite far in medieval times, but I hadn't expected it to go that far. Food and materials were supposed to be more expensive compared to labor and such. If just what I'd counted was that much, just how far would the rest go? There were probably a good thirty more of the things, Septims, left in there… I… wasn't exactly rich, but certainly wealthier than I had any right to be given my circumstances.

Separating out three of the small coins, I slid the remainder back into their bag. I could work out just how much I had later, when I had a room and could count in peace. Knowing I had the amount indicated by the serving girl was one thing, but I wasn't going to risk what I had with what I now knew. You never could tell if there was a thief about, not unless they were wearing something that all but screamed 'thief'. Which, if this place continued following a lot of fantasy conventions, there might just be. I hadn't been paying enough attention to know, not that I knew what to look for.

The soup bowl came to rest in front of me with a soft clunk. "Anything in particular you want to drink? Water's been bad for the past week though, so it'll have to be beer, wine, mead, or ale. I'd personally recommend the mead though, it's a solid local brew, much better than that watered-down piss the Black-Briars sell."

"There isn't anything else?" I asked, not finding the idea of alcohol particularly appealing.

That got me a slight smile. "A cider fan or something? Unfortunately it was rather popular this winter and we're not sure if we'll be able to get more until autumn. Milk is for cheese making, and most juices are out of season. I can take a look to see if we have any snowberry juice available, if you'd like."

Right, no refrigeration meant alcohol was what lasted and with the speed of trade, a lot of stuff was purely seasonal or rarely available. Tea was probably entirely out too, beyond possibly herbal ones. Not my cup of tea.

"No, I'll take your word for it and take the mead. I'm just a bit more used to having a variety available." Better let her think that I'm somewhere with an abundance, rather from another world. A random waitress wasn't exactly going to be able to help me get home after all, and her thinking I was crazy would just cause problems.

The woman smiled at me, and it suddenly struck that she wasn't that much older than I was. It wasn't easy to see, as she was more weathered than I was used to, but she didn't look to much more than seventeen. Eighteen at the most. That felt… strange. Sure, people were likely considered adults earlier like in much of history, but seeing it myself…

I mentally shoved that aside. What that meant for me could be figured out later. Hopefully I didn't need to find out at all, and could get home fairly quickly. Picking up my spoon, I scooped out some soup and took a deep breath, savoring the smell of it before beginning to eat. A few moments later, there was the dull clunk of glass on wood as the waitress placed a yellowish-orange bottle on the table next to me

"Here you go," she said. "One pint of juniper berry mead, locally brewed and in the normal fashion. Probably the finest mead in the province."

Popping the cork out with some effort, I gave it a cautious sniff. Something about it, presumably the alcohol, was similar to the beer Dad would sometimes drink. It was also somewhat sweet-smelling in a way that was more like soda than honey, and had a slightly floral note to it. I took a sip.

And almost coughed it back out. It was unlike anything I'd tasted before, with both a slight burn and a bitterness that caught me off guard. There was a sweetness to it like I'd been expecting, but less so and the texture was closer to some cough syrups than anything else. Some effort was required to swallow it, and I quickly ate another spoonful of soup.

"Stronger than you're used to, eh lass?" The barmaid asked, looking more than a little amused. "Or is the juniper berry just a bit much for you?"

Shooting her a glower, I replied "Both, I thought mead was supposed to be sweet…"

"Compared to beer, yes, but not nearly as sweet as the honey it's made from."

Grumbling under my breath, I resumed eating my meal, doing my best to not taste the mead in the process. I'd have to get used to drinking stuff like it after all, but I most definitely didn't have a taste for it yet. Not by a long-shot.

Stupid lowtech world.

Pushing that aside, I glanced back at the serving girl, who was managing to hover. Probably not anyone else wanting anything right now or something. Though why she was intent on hanging around me was unclear. Sighing, I met her eye.

"So, are there any rooms available? I've had a very long day and could use some sleep."

A warm smile came back, along with "We do actually. Few caravans come through at this time of year, so you can just pick one. Five Septims a night, so you know."

I dug out the required coins and handed them over. "Alright then. I'll take the closest room, if that's alright."

"As I said," she replied. "You can have whatever room you want, we mostly just have locals here for a meal and a drink this early in spring. The Pale Pass really only is reliably open in early Rain's Hand, and this winter was a bad one."

Pulling myself to my feet, I stumbled over to the doorway nearest the table I'd just been at. If I had to guess the alcohol was getting to me in addition to the bone-deep exhaustion that was setting in as the day caught up to me. Leaving the armor on was probably not a good idea, but I barely had the strength to shed my belt and kick off my boots before I collapsed onto the waiting bed.

 

[Sandy River DL]

Since I forgot to add it elsewhere, this is any entry into the Storytelling Showdown competition that's going on. Please put suns here: The Summerfest Storytelling Showdown

 

[Sandy River DL]

A bone deep ache greeted me the instant consciousness returned. Everything hurt, to the point I'd swear my very blood was sore from yesterday's exertion, which rather put paid to the cliched idea of waking up thinking an experience was a dream. So stiff was I, that getting up was a struggle, even more than I might've thought. If I was being poetic about it, it was as if the new day was sapping my strength. It wasn't the case of course, as I'd simply pushed myself beyond what I could properly handle and I was paying the price for it.

Letting out a long, low, groan, I forced myself to swing my legs over the edge of the bed and slip on my boots. As unpleasant moving was, I needed to eat again and I doubted they'd serve me breakfast in bed. Not that the bed was particularly comfortable now that I wasn't on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. Strapping my belt back on, I stood, wincing as I did so. Yeah, I was definitely taking it easy for a few days, and hoping to any god that might exist that finding my objective wasn't going to be difficult. It probably wouldn't be, but that wouldn't stop me from wishing.

My walk to the door was done with a clear limp and lots of wincing. While the unplanned hike yesterday was definitely the main source of my soreness, I was starting to think at least some of it was also from having slept in armor, in a type of bed I wasn't at all familiar with.

Plopping myself down at the same table I'd been at yesterday, I found a wonderful smelling pie filling my nose with the scent of bacon, potato, onion, and several other things I couldn't identify almost as soon as my butt hit the bench. A glance upward revealed the same server giving me a smile. Probably shouldn't be a surprise, as this place wasn't likely big enough to have more than one server, but I wasn't expecting to be served without prompting.

Not sure what else to do, I gave her a smile. "Thank you, breakfast is much appreciated. Especially after what happened yesterday."

"Don't you worry lass, we'll take good care of you here. Overwork is never pleasant, and you seem like you're rather lost on top of it. I suggest you visit the bathhouse after you get that food in you. Probably one of the best places to be if you've done a number on yourself, Helgen is. Our bath is fed by a hot spring, something you'll only find in Kynesgrove or Markarth, and I think a long soak there would do you good."

"A long hot soak sounds amazing," I all but moaned. "I'll be sure to track it down. Thank you for telling me."

Maybe I'd be fully functional again more quickly than I thought. It was a bathhouse rather than a spa, so it wouldn't be as good at relaxing as it could be. But it'd still help a lot. And this place had at least some pseudo-Roman influence, so there might be masseuses there anyway. But even if it were just a hole in the ground full of hot water, the heat would loosen and soothe my aching muscles far more effectively than sitting around all day hoping. It'd also be a calming experience, taking the edge off my stress levels.

With that said, I turned my attention to the pie in front of me and took a deep breath, luxuriating in the smell of it. Then, gingerly, I picked it up. Unlike what I'd read about most medieval pies, this was somewhat more like a modern pie in construction, having a softer crust meant to be part of the meal, rather than a semi-reusable vessel for a stew. Something reinforced by the fact that it didn't have a solid top crust, but rather a mixture of bacon and pastry strips crisscrossing it. So, with those observations in mind, I took a bite.

No offense meant to Mom and her cooking, but it was probably the best thing I'd tasted... ever. A wondrous medley of flavors, provided by spices and seasoning I'd never known combined with unfamiliar methods of cooking and presumably a mixture of free-range and wild meats. Might also have been different eggs from what I was used to as well, but I wasn't sure. In fact, differences in breed could also be responsible for other differences in taste too, not just what the animals were eating.

So caught up in eating the glorious meal was I that I almost missed the clunk of ceramic on wood. Blinking, I lowered the pie and stared at the softly steaming mug that had just been set down. While it wasn't the easiest to smell over the rich scent of the pie, there was a fruity scent wafting off of whatever it was in the mug. It vaguely reminded me of strawberry, but was also very clearly not.

"I found that we do in fact still have a supply of snowberry juice in drinkable condition, and decided you might prefer it over the mead," the serving girl said, smiling. "You looked to have found it a bit strong yesterday."

My cheeks warmed and I quickly picked up the mug, having found that I didn't need both hands on the pie, and took a careful sip. It wasn't hot enough to burn my lips or tongue despite the wisps coming off of it, and the taste was closer to cranberry than I'd been expecting. Tart and tangy, but with sufficient sweetness to balance it out. If I had to guess, I'd say it might be some sort of currant, which was… different. Interesting though.

Taking another sip, I continued eating my pie. Which admittedly didn't take long, as I'd gone through a good part of it before being given the juice and it wasn't massive to begin with. At that point, I drained the mug and put it aside.

"So," I said, turning my attention to the hovering girl. "How much do I owe for breakfast?"

"We include it with the room price here. Pa's idea, something to make us more attractive to the merchant caravans and hunters. Good food, good drink, and good service he says," she replied with a smile.

Huh, hadn't been expecting the bed and breakfast experience here. Interesting. It was nice though, and convenient.

Nodding, I stood up and glanced towards the door. "So, how do I get to the bathhouse from here? I'd like to get started on unstiffening my muscles soon."

Then something occurred to me. "You said that the water's been off recently right? Was there an earthquake around that time? That could cause water from the well's source to mingle with the hot spring's."

Her eyes widened at that. "So we might need new wells then? That could cause us some problems if that is the case."

I gave a half shrug, wincing as I did so. "I'm no expert in that, and the only way I know to check is by smell. If the wells smell like the hot spring, then there's a leak from the spring into the wells. And I have no idea if new wells would even help should the local groundwater be contaminated. It might also be something else making the water undrinkable, if it's still usable for cooking."

The serving girl nodded thoughtfully before speaking. "So you're a scholar then? Been awhile since we had one come through here. As for where the bathhouse is, it's next to the keep. Just head into the market square and look for the stone building with a tile roof."

"Thanks, I really appreciate the service here. Much better than you have to do." With that said, I began to limp my way towards the door. If I was visualizing this correctly, the market would be around the next corner with the keep either being the large tower on the outer wall or the taller one that looked to have been in the center from outside. Of course, this being a more medieval town, my guess as to the layout could be badly off, but I was working on the idea that the inn and market were reasonably accessible for the sake of actually getting business.

Pushing the inn's door open, I let out a soft hiss as the bright sun cast its harsh glare down upon me, almost as bad as in the pass. Probably something to do with the relative lack of natural lighting inside or the lesser brightness of candles, oil lamps, and torches compared to electric lights. That the area was fairly high up a mountain likely was contributing as well.

Gingerly hobbling my way onto the street, I walked around the side of the inn and blinked. There was the market. Literally right around the corner. No wonder I was given only minimal direction to it, it was dead simple to reach. And I could even see the bathhouse and keep directly across from my position. Now it was just a matter of walking the surprisingly long distance to get there. The market space looked to be about the size of a football field, which was rather impressive considering the fact that this was a walled settlement of rather limited scale.

Actually getting to my destination was harder than finding it though, by a wide margin. Turned out that there was a very good reason athletes did stretches and whatnot after events, or at least I was guessing that it was to avoid everything cramping up. Well, lesson learned there then. And it was apparently so obvious that two attendants descended upon me the moment I trudged through the door.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Proclaimed a matronly woman who, despite appearing to be around the same age as my mother, had snow-white hair in an intricate series of braids. "Let's get you out of that armor and into the water. I can see by how you carry yourself you can barely move! Honestly, this is what I expect from visiting warriors, not girls built like a breeze could carry them off!"

I wanted to protest, but didn't have time before the woman took hold of my wrist and began dragging me towards a nearby curtain-covered doorway whiling calling to the platinum-blond boy who'd jumped in with her "I'll handle this one Thoryr, you mind the front for me!"

Without so much as asking for permission, she dumped me on a bench next to a steaming pool of faintly sulfurous-and-iron smelling water and started pulling off my boots.

"Um, I can get my gear off myself?" I said, half asking to be allowed to do so. Being sore wasn't the same as being incapable…

"Nonsense lass, what you can do is relax and let me get you in the bath so that you don't get permanent injuries from over-stressing yourself!" Was her reply. "I might not have training in the healing arts, but I've seen enough folks hurting themselves because they would rest properly to know that you need to let me handle this."

Was I really in that bad a shape? I knew that pain was the body's way of telling you something's wrong, but debilitating injury from having walked too much? That had to be the locals not understanding the actual damage due to lacking the medical technology to see it…

On the other hand, was it something I was willing to risk? Muscle damage would be problematic…

Then I let out a surprised yelp as suddenly I was twisted a bit as she moved onto unstrapping my armor. As she pulled the mass of fur and steel away, she made a tutting sound.

"Do you not know how to wear this properly, lass? No wonder you're hurting if you spent a day traveling with such poorly worn armor… My husband's part of the guard, I'll see if I can get him to teach you to properly secure this. After you're in a condition to actually wear it." She then paused, and gave me another look over. "I don't believe I've seen undergarments like that before. What manner of clothes bear paintings?"

I glanced down and blinked. I hadn't thought about the clothes I'd been wearing when I'd almost been killed by that cape fight. My Alexandria t-shirt had to have been rather confusing, given that she'd be used to tunics and such, not shirts of a type not invented until after the Industrial Revolution. And I recalled them being undergarments at the time, not outerwear like now. Interesting though that she hadn't commented on my socks, as those were a rather new development too, unless it was more something that simply hadn't occurred to people and got invented much earlier here?

Before she could move on, I peeled off the shirt myself. I didn't particularly like the idea of getting undressed around a stranger like this, but she seemed professional enough and I still had some measure of control over the situation. Setting the article aside I tried to stand and continue, only to almost fall over as my muscles refused to cooperate any further.

The woman sighed. "And that is why I told you to leave this to me, lass. If you'd come straight here when you arrived, you'd be in better shape. Rookie mistakes like heading right to the inn are understandable, but going to bed without a good hot soak is a recipe for having your muscles seize up on you overnight. So keep that in mind on the next leg of your journey, it will save you a fair bit of pain. Now let's finish getting you ready for the bath."

She didn't seem to have any issue removing what was left, and then bodily hoisted me up before gently placing me in the steaming pool. The heat practically sank into me as I settled onto the submerged bench, eliciting a low groan. This… was probably the greatest thing I'd felt. A soft current swirling around me combined with the warmth and the dissolved minerals to wash away the aches and pains of the road I'd traveled in a way that felt like a cliche brought to life. If this was helping relax my body half as much as it felt like it was, no wonder the attendant said this is the first thing to be done after a journey…

Leaning back, I closed my eyes and sighed. I felt like I could stay in the pool forever. It'd be a horrible idea and wouldn't get me home, but it felt that good. Reopening one eye, I glanced at the attendant. "So, how much will this cost me? And is it by the hour or a flat fee?"

"A Septim for an hour in a private room and your choice of drink. The locals prefer mead, but we have a few other options. I think we might still have some of that coffee we got last autumn from a Khajiit caravan if you'd be interested in that, otherwise your options are an assortment of local ales and wines."

"I'll take the coffee then," I said. "I don't like the idea of having alcohol this early, or in a bath like this. Better to have something to counter the drowsiness that being really comfortable can cause."

"I suppose that makes sense," was the woman's reply. "One mug of coffee then. Is there anything else you'd like, should we have run out?"

That was a good question. As much as I wasn't overly fond of coffee, alcohol was even less appealing and I had basically no idea what was strong or weak. Or what I might actually find tolerable.

"Maybe a mild wine?" I decided with a shrug. "Preferably strawberry if you have any, or snowberry."

Nodding at that, the woman left, and I palmed my face almost immediately after. I had yet to ask anyone their name, and thinking of people by their gender or appearance was getting annoying.

 

[Sandy River DL]

Two hours and a surprisingly nice cup of coffee later, I was gingerly climbing out of the gloriously hot bath, bracing myself with Eira's arm as I did so. From this position, I could see that while her hair looked white from a distance, it was in actuality a very pale blonde. Not particularly important information, but it told me that she, at least, wasn't a sign that the locals had a significantly wider range of hair colors. Not that that was particularly important either, but it was kinda nice to know.

Observations about cosmetic features aside, I felt great. Better than I'd felt in a long time even. All the aches and pains I'd accumulated the previous day, and the bone-deep soreness from having slept without a proper cool-down had all faded away as if they'd never been. No wonder hot springs were often considered to have healing properties…

Once I was fully out of the pool, I carefully put my full weight on my legs, to no pain. Awesome. With that established, the attendant released her hold on my arm.

"Well then, it seems you've recovered nicely," she said, smiling slightly. "Now it's time to get that armor on properly."

The shiver that ran through me was totally just from the fact that the evaporation of the remaining water was cooling me off, and not because of the look on her face. Yes, definitely the water…

Grabbing my underwear, I donned them quickly. Best to get this over with as fast as possible. Before I could grab my normal clothes though, Eira's hand closed around my wrist.

"Unless those help with sweat, best leave them off. Your armor will fit better and be more comfortable without the extra layer. This sort of thing needs to be as close to the body as you can manage. Plate armor or maille might use underlayers, but this particular style of scale has its padding as the backing already, so there isn't a reason to wear anything else without it adding something."

She gave my shirt a look, before adding "And that doesn't seem like it was meant to be worn under anything else…"

I thought for a moment, then sighed. My jeans weren't exactly loose, but they also weren't the skin-tight ones I'd sometimes seen older girls wearing either. And my t-shirt would probably have the graphic worn off by the movement of the armor. As much as I'd prefer otherwise, I'd have to forgo wearing what I'd come with and follow her advice. Which, admittedly, was probably for the best anyways, I sure didn't know how to properly wear armor…

"Is there a special way to put this on, or is that intuitive?" I asked, gesturing at the heavy pants.

That drew a laugh from the woman, who shook her head. "Go ahead and don them like you do your other leggings lass, it's the shirt-of-scales that requires technique. I can have my husband teach you if you wish, or you can experiment a bit. It's not hard, just a bit tedious at times to get it seated properly and that will take practice. It's a matter of what feels the most comfortable and distributes the weight evenly. Once you've gotten it to do that, the armor will be almost unnoticeable and won't stress your body nearly as much as it had been, so you'll be able to travel much more easily. And after you get yourself into better physical condition, you might even be able to go without a hot soak every night…"

I nodded, as that sounded reasonable. Grabbing the pants, I carefully stepped into them before pulling them up. This was followed by my socks and the boots before I sat back down, which led to me being almost immediately set upon by Eira. A few awkward moments of struggle later and the scale shirt was in place. I was then hauled to my feet and the shirt given a couple pulls to settle out fully, which was followed by the belt being strapped around my waist much higher than I'd previously put it, and then finally the straps on the sides of the shirt being buckled. Surprisingly, it felt… lighter and less restrictive than when I'd put it on previously. Because of course armor wasn't worn like street clothes, should've figured that out for myself.

Stepping back, the white-haired woman smiled. "There, that's better isn't it? You look like a proper adventurer now, though I'm not quite sure this particular set suits you. Still, you should be properly protected now, and much more able to travel without over-stressing yourself. Just don't try making the trek from Bruma in one leg again until you've built yourself up more."

For a brief instant, I thought about correcting her, but immediately dropped the idea. At best she wouldn't believe me about being from another world, and if she did… that could easily be worse. Sure, there were stories where it went fine, but even Oz wasn't exactly a safe place to claim to be from somewhere else. It could easily attract dangerous attention…

Picking up my gloves, I shot the older woman a curious look. "Oh, what kind of armor would you suggest for me, if this isn't what's best?"

"I would recommend at least adding gauntlets and greaves to your kit. Pauldrons and exchanging that scale for maille or possibly a jack of plate. If you fight normally, a shield would not be amiss, but if you're a mage like many of your people, you might be able to do without. You can head north to that magic college in Winterhold if that is what you do, but the Companions are always taking new members if you prefer to rely on your own strength. Either one would be able to help you improve your equipment as you require."

Then, with a thoughtful expression making its way onto her face, she added "Though I suppose you might even be able to join up with both if you were so inclined, so long as you don't try to use magic as a crutch with the Companions. They don't much like that."

Well, that was confirmation of magic being a thing then and not me just jumping to conclusions. Good to know. As was the fact that it was likely not considered an 'honorable' craft, which made sense if this culture was similar to Earth's Old Norse like the architecture and language implied. Probably not great for me, as the local ethnic group I'd been mistaken for a member of apparently was known for using it. Still, what little girl didn't want to have magic? It was almost as big a thing as wanting a pony or to be a princess or be Alexandria.

Speaking of magic, that tome I'd picked up back in the cave was likely about it if the feel of it was any indication, I'd probably want to see if I could read it and get a start on that. If nothing else, magic could be rather helpful in getting me out of tight spots, and if healing magic was a thing… Well, that would be very nice indeed.

Checking to ensure all of my gear was on, and secure, I then fished out my coin purse and handed over two of the gold pieces. That done, I made my way back out of the bathhouse. The pain I'd been in must have been connected to the light sensitivity I'd been experiencing earlier, because exiting into the square again was a much more pleasant experience than leaving the inn had been. That, or I'd just gotten a nasty glare due to angles or something. Stories were always more interesting than textbooks, even if I was more academically inclined than Emma.

Where to next was a good question, as I could do several different things right now, from finding odd jobs to do for money, asking around for information on this 'Rimerock Burrow' place, or tracking down a local merchant to see about acquiring supplies for traveling. All three would be helpful, but which one to pursue first…

Actually, talking to people would probably be best, given that I wouldn't know what supplies I'd need or how much money it would take if I didn't have any idea where I was going. Which would mean walking up to strangers and asking questions. That… would not be fun. I knew I could be a chatterbox, Mom and Emma had brought it up plenty of times, but this wasn't like meeting dockworkers or college staff, this was people I had no connections to or any trusted adult to use as a reference point for. I'd say Clavicus Vile better appreciate what I'm doing for the sake of this quest, but from the little contact I'd had yesterday, I could tell he probably wasn't the sort to appreciate other people. Hopefully I could get this done with and never have to deal with the jerk again.

…Fuck, now I was going to wasn't I?

Having inadvertently cursed myself or not, I did have to attempt socialization. In the name of getting home again. Sighing, I scanned the plaza for a town guard or some other person to inquire to, then a thought struck me. The inn would actually be the best place to start, as I had at least talked to someone there already, and such places were a classic for information gathering. Even if the innkeeper or serving girl didn't know, they would likely be able to point me to someone who would! Progress!

Turning back towards the Helgen Homestead, I was able to return much more rapidly than I'd left. Not quite jogging, but walking somewhat faster than I probably should have been. On entering, I found myself doing a double-take as the place was all but deserted. It was something I really should have expected, as it was mid-morning, but that still kinda caught me by surprise. Only the innkeeper and a single customer remained, with the previously cozy hall feeling surprisingly large now. Which was a rather interesting effect, as the inn was actually slightly smaller than my home. That observation done, I wandered over to the bar-style counter where the innkeeper was leaning.

"Would you happen to know anything about a place called Rimerock Burrow?" I asked, voice faltering slightly as I spoke. "I've been asked to retrieve something from there, but my patron neglected to tell me where it is, beyond that it's in Skyrim."

"Can't say that I have lass," the man replied with a thoughtful look. "But it sounds like it'd be somewhere up north, along the coast. Hjaalmarch perhaps. It's normally a five day journey to the hold capital in Morthal, but with the Stormcloaks becoming more active, you'd best avoid the Heartland Road through Whiterun and take the Highlands or West Road instead. Doing so will add another two to four days, but you don't have to worry about bandits because the guards are preoccupied trying to keep both the Legion and Stormcloaks out. If the carriage service were running in these parts, you might be able to make it in three days, but the roads aren't normally reliably clear at this time of year."

A week's travel, just to find a place that might know about my destination. Great. Mom and Dad would already be worried about me, and I would not hold up that long either. Frankly, it was almost a miracle I hadn't fallen apart already. Though… hadn't Clavicus mentioned a guide? Barbas or something? If I could find him, I might be able to get this done much quicker and get home sooner!

Turning my attention back to the innkeeper, I gave a slight smile. "Thanks for the help. I'll be staying probably another night or so while I get prepared then. And speaking of that, where would the best place to acquire more supplies be?"

"I believe I can handle her questions from here, Vilod," the sole other patron suddenly spoke up. "Adventuring is more my expertise, as opposed to the caravans you usually deal with."

The man clad in drab greens and browns strolled over to stand next to me, before giving me an analytical once-over. "You're definitely new at this. No cloak, pack, or staff. Armor's decent, and good quality, but incomplete. The best part I see though is that sword you've got there. Ebony by the look of it, and a fine example if the blade is as good as the hilt. A lucky find on your part I'd wager, as ebony is not cheap and a blade like that one would set you back a small fortune if you weren't looting it off an outlaw or digging it out of one of the old tombs. The latter, I'd guess, given that it resembles one of the ancient Nordic patterns from the days of Skyrim's old empire."

That… was an impressive sounding background to a random sword I'd found in a chest in a cave/temple place in the middle of nowhere… And ebony was an interesting name for a metal, especially since the term on the known Earths was derived from the name of a type of tree. Still, it sounded like that meant the weapon was a good one, which would be very helpful in living long enough to get home. And I should probably get his opinion on armor too, as having what seemed to be a professional's advice there would also help with that by keeping me intact.

"Oh, where are my manners," he then said abruptly, almost startling me in the process. "I am Julian Aurelius, formerly of the Bruma Guard and currently a treasure hunter and adventurer like you."

"An interesting turnabout from many of the local guards, who will regale you with how they used to be adventurers…"

Julian gave Vilod a Look, before returning his attention to me. "Most of what you'll need can be found at High Pass Goods, while I'd recommend acquiring the pack from Matlara's leather shop. I've been using her work for years now and it has been holding up well, especially considering what it's been through with me. Armor-wise… Your best bet is likely delving into one of the Atmoran period barrows in the Reach or here in Falkreath. The Nords of the time tended to favor lighter, more agility focused, armor than those of the later First Era onwards. Unless of course, you want to switch to something more comprehensive, in which case you'll want to be hitting Dwarven ruins. It's heavy stuff, but if you scavenge from somewhere in the Dragontails, Jarells, or Velothis, you'll retain a bit more flexibility as the clans in Skyrim's interior favored resilience a fair bit more than the others did, even at the cost of some mobility."

Blinking a few times, I then shook my head as I tried to sort out things. "I… think I'd rather not get hit in the first place. If that means breaking open an ancient tomb or two, I'll deal with it. Might even find another good blade in the process."

Just… roll with this I guess. I didn't like the idea of grave robbing, especially not in a fantasy world where undead are a thing, going by the vampires. And who knew, I might just find something helpful in getting home hidden away somewhere. I hopefully wouldn't need anything like that, but alternatives were always nice.

"A good plan there lass," Julian replied with a nod and slightly proud smile. "The dwarves left behind quite a number of dangerous machines, many of which are still active and very hostile to anyone entering the ruins. Barrows, on the other hand, are generally easy to traverse as you will rarely encounter any threats other than fairly simplistic traps unless necromancers had gotten in before you. Even then, draugr are rather vulnerable to fire and skeletons are little more than a nuisance. They're also far less numerous than the animunculi."

…What.

No seriously, what. This place had robots? That wasn't very fantasy of the place. Definitely sticking to the tombs then. A magical sword made of a probably-magic metal wasn't likely to cut it with combat robots.

"When were you thinking of leaving? I was planning my own departure for Rorikstead on Middas, so if you'd be interested in learning from my experience, you're free to tag along until our paths diverge."

The man was offering more help than just some tips? Interesting. And Middas… I wasn't actually sure what that meant or how soon it was, but it was clearly not tomorrow at least. So that would probably be as good a time as any for me. The idea of being alone with an unfamiliar man wasn't the most pleasant one, having grown up in Brockton Bay, but getting started with someone who knew what they were doing was appealing. And this place probably shouldn't be treated like the Bay either, as it didn't appear like the region was in a state of slow collapse so far.

Not that I actually knew what that might look like in a medieval fantasy world.

Given the benefits of giving him at least some trust, I nodded. "That sounds like a good idea to me. I'll see about buying what I need today and tomorrow so I'll have everything ready."

"Which will leave you a day to relax and make sure you are fully prepared for the journey," he replied, a warm tone of approval in his voice. "Good thinking there. Keep that up, and you'll make a fine addition to the profession. Always take time for yourself in between expeditions, and you'll find the job to be much easier than those who rush from ruin to ruin as if haste will bring them wealth and glory. Such foolhardiness tends to lead them to their deaths from simple mistakes made by weary minds, that a rested person would not likely make."

That wasn't what I'd been thinking, but it sounded entirely reasonable. Doing dangerous things when tired was most definitely a recipe for disaster, and dying like an idiot wasn't on my agenda. Death in any manner, really. Mom and Dad would be devastated, and I wasn't sure Emma would be able to move on if I didn't come back...

Swallowing the knot forming in my throat at that thought, I refocused on the veteran adventurer who almost seemed like he was eyeing me as a possible protégée… Maybe it was the fact that I was willing to listen and had a strong desire to not die. Still, a bit odd for him to be doing this for a stranger. Maybe I'd ask at some point, but not right now.

"Speaking of taking time for myself, I should probably start seeing to my supplies and equipment now, unless you have anything else I should know before I start," I stated and started to turn away from the bar, before stopping. "Oh, and I'm Taylor by the way."

 

[Sandy River DL]

The leather crafts and general goods stores were both on the edge of town. Annoyingly though, they weren't by the same gate and were in fact on effectively opposite ends of the settlement. With the fact that a larger pack would be helpful in carrying the supplies I'd be buying, I headed to the leather shop first. Conveniently though, it was one of the buildings I'd passed on the way into Helgen and thus was only a short walk from the inn. The smell of the place was… strange… as I entered, leather and things I couldn't quite identify.

Presumably that was the tanning vats or materials. I'd made a few small things of leather at camp before, but that was sheets of the stuff bought from a crafts store and not newly tanned stuff, so I could only make a guess there.

Brushing that aside, I turned my attention to the actual stock of the store. Hides and pelts were everywhere, with various finished goods seated on shelves behind the counter. Bags, rucksacks, belts, even what looked like pieces of armor appeared to be available, in a range of shapes and sizes and I had no idea what I'd be needing out of it all. Fortunately, the shopkeeper was present and had just stood from where she'd been seated.

"Hello," I said in greeting, "I need a rucksack large enough to be suitable for an adventurer. I was recommended you based on the quality of your product."

The woman chuckled and pulled a large pack out from under the counter. "Julian sent you then? That Imperial is the only one who sends people my way for such things and likely the only reason I can afford to keep stock of them. Most of my customers are hunters or merchants after all, and they hardly need the ability to haul three stone of supplies and random items on their person. If you're getting into that trade, I'd say you'll need yourself a horse sooner rather than later, it will make your life much easier. Markarth or Whiterun would be your best bet, as they have the breeds for that more often."

On the one hand, I could very easily see the utility of a horse in adventuring, especially having read both the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. On the other, I was not one of those girls who always wanted a pony and had not enjoyed my last experience with a horse at camp. But with any luck, I wouldn't need to buy one as I'd be home relatively soon and wouldn't be doing enough dungeoneering to require having one.

Matlara then set the pack in front of me. "Twenty Septims for this, though if you'd like I can add in a belt pouch for carrying potions for another five."

Fishing out the original number of coins, I placed them down next to the frankly gorgeous piece of leatherwork. "I'll take just the rucksack I think. Not sure I'll be needing the pouch but I do know that I have a lot more things I'm going to need to buy. If it turns out I do need one and have the money for it, I'll come back for it."

"I suppose that's reasonable," the woman replied. "Though if you find yourself short on coin before you leave, my husband Torolf's been having problems with wolves outside of town. The guard used to be able to keep them under control, but with how things are shaping up, they've been more focused on keeping bandits from coming up from Whiterun. If you could cull the population somewhat, you'd be rewarded. And if you could bring back pelts, that would be much appreciated as well, though I'd take bodies if you aren't confident in properly skinning them yourself."

That didn't sound too bad a deal, even if I'd rather not have to handle dead wolves or trying to figure out how to properly skin an animal. It was gross, but I'd have to at least consider it, as I still didn't know how far my supply of gold would last. Things were too different here from what I was used to to make any kind of reasonable guess as to what things were worth.

On the other hand, I was likely to be able to earn more money by looting ruins on the journey north. Which wouldn't help if I ran out here…

"I'll do that," I said, deciding that doing it would be better than not. "Probably tomorrow so that I can stock up on what I can today."

"Aye, that sounds reasonable," Matlara said with a thoughtful nod. "Best to get what you know you need before buying what would be merely nice to have."

Collecting the pack, I carefully slipped it over my shoulders and checked the straps for fit. I really, really, didn't want a repeat of my mistakes from yesterday about properly securing things and figuring out where the weight of the pack sat would probably help with that. It wasn't as comfortable as my school backpack, but I wasn't particularly surprised by that. It was leather after all, not foam-padded synthetic fiber cloth like was used back home. Barring it being magic, there was no way for it to be as nice, and unless this place did Tolkien's 'magic is craftsmanship' it didn't seem like it would be.

Once I had the pack settled to my satisfaction, I exited the shop and set off down the street towards the other side of town. Cartways like those here were… different… from streets back home. While not exactly narrow, they were still narrower than ones meant for cars, and were a lot more janky than what I was used to. This probably had something to do with how cars were rather a bit faster than horse-drawn carts and wagons. Being able to casually walk around without worrying about massive high-speed metal machines was a surprisingly nice experience though.

It didn't take long to reach the market square again, at which point I diverted to my right, following the directions I'd been given for the general goods store. As I walked, the shape of the town slowly began to form in my mind. Like most walled settlements, it wasn't particularly large, and appeared to have a roughly triangular layout subdivided by the three main streets that linked the gates to the market. Through various alleyways, I could on occasion spot the whitewashed stone wall of the keep, a Romanesque structure that nonetheless bore a clear resemblance to more medieval fortifications, tying it into the town surprisingly well despite how out of place it should have been.

Shaking off my distraction, I made the last turn to find High Pass Goods to be one of those stereotypical Viking buildings that looked like someone just flipped a boat upside-down, added some walls, and called it a day. In this case, a squat thing that might've been a fishing boat if it weren't a roof on a building halfway up a mountain miles from any lake or sea. Entering revealed an interior much the same as the leather shop, but with the counter very near the front and the shelves all behind it. An arrangement I recalled being mentioned in several novels.

Well, I knew what to do here. Walking up to the counter, I began scanning the shelves. Once I'd identified what I thought was most of what I'd be needing, I turned to the proprietor.

"I need a traveling cloak, three days worth of traveler's food supplies, a walking stick, some fire lighting supplies, a small pot, a bedroll, and a couple of waterskins."

The shopkeeper, a redheaded bear of a man nodded. "An adventurer then? Alright, that'll be fifteen Septims lass."..

That wasn't as bad as it might've been. I'd still do that job the leatherworker offered though, as it'd leave me with just enough to afford another night and meal. Which was not going to be enough for the time I would still be here, and I'd need more still for the journey. Sliding the required coins across the counter, I then watched as he deftly and efficiently gathered up the requested items with the ease of someone who'd done so countless times. It was so different from the shopping I was used to, wandering the store looking for things before bringing whatever you were buying up front.

As he placed everything in front of me, he quirked an eyebrow. "You look a bit young to be the adventuring sort lass. Have you even reached your sixteenth summer?"

Sixteenth summer? What did he…? Then it clicked. He was asking after my age, with a measure I normally didn't hear people actually using. Now how was my age done in that method…?

"Uh, I'm a bit shy of my thirteenth summer," I admitted, not entirely sure if it was the best idea.

The shopkeeper blinked and opened his mouth, then closed and opened it again. "I certainly wasn't expecting that… Whatever put you in the position that you needed to take up such a dangerous profession at your age… I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to risk your life like that so young. It's not right."

Well, that was both unexpected and appreciated… Being viewed with compassion instead of being treated as a kid playing at being a grown-up. It was… surprisingly nice, not being looked down on by people who didn't know me, simply because I was young. That it was because I'd been dumped into another world to do a fetch quest for some sort of local god was rather less likable though.

"I should be able to get back to my normal life after this though," I said with a slight smile. "A fun story to tell my classmates. Trekking across the province to bring an axe to a shrine isn't likely to be the most thrilling tale, but it's better than dying as a side effect of a battle…"

Wincing, the massive man nodded. "Aye, I know a similar feeling. Fought in the Great War ten years ago, and knowing that you could die at any moment without anything you can do… It leaves a mark. Must be worse for a little scholar like you."

Then he frowned slightly. "This shrine… I've heard rumors of one somewhere in the mountains. Who was it dedicated to?"

"Er, Clavicus Vile. Fetch quest as the payment for rescuing me."

That drew a groan from him. "Let me guess, they hadn't gotten to teaching you about Daedra yet. Still, not the worst Prince you could've encountered. He, at least, won't claim your soul for merely dealing with him and generally won't twist the terms to amuse himself. Have to be careful though, as he does so often enough to cause problems."

Yeah, now I definitely had a bad feeling about it. The whole thing was giving me the impression of a trickster god, and combining that with deals and wishes… A monkey's paw scenario was a worrying possibility here.

No. That wasn't something I should dwell on. I would get home, I had to. No other outcome was acceptable. Nothing was going to stop me. Nothing.

A shiver ran down my spine as something imperceptible shifted within me. A sense of resolve most likely, as there wasn't anything else it could be. It was, however, also noticed by the shopkeeper, who seemed to have taken it for something else.

"Calm yourself lass, he's unlikely to do anything outrageous. The worst you can expect would be him deciding to set you to run into Sanguine, who is himself probably the least harmful Prince to encounter. Though best not try your luck with Vile, as he will take advantage of you if you give him an opening," the apparently former soldier said, face set with an expression I couldn't identify.

Yeah, definitely going to do my best on that. I did not want to get screwed by a capricious deity for their entertainment. Especially since that would make it harder to get home.

Nodding my understanding, I began packing my purchases into my new bag. What would fit in it anyways, as the pot and bedroll were too large. That cloak and walking stick were similarly not subject to any such attempts, as I'd be needing them out, on top of there being no way to cram a piece of wood that looked to be around four feet long into a pack only slightly larger than I'd used for school. Frankly, I was a bit unsure if I'd be able to fit a whole lot more than what I already had. Which would make the expected dungeon-delving somewhat difficult unless there was a more effective way of packing supplies and loot. I'd have to ask Julian at some point soon, as that was certainly going to be important.

Once I had everything settled as best I could, I hoisted the backpack over my shoulders and secured the cloak over top with minimal fumbling of the unfamiliar mechanism of the pin. It felt more awkward than I'd expected, but that was probably because I was used to a coat and would need to adjust to the difference. Like how I had to with the hood being a separate item. Which happened pretty quickly, now that I thought about it. Odd. But convenient.

Finally, I took the walking stick from the counter and leaned against the carven branch. As much as it was different from my norm, something about it felt… right. Like this was what I was meant for. I'd have to see what it'd take to upkeep this stuff and alter it for fit as I grew so I could keep it usable once I got home. What for, I wasn't sure, but that's what I wanted.

Adjusting the straps for fit the best I could, I gave the shopkeeper a smile and made my way outside once more. Only to be greeted by a wall of blowing snow. Pulling my new cloak about myself, I let out a soft groan. While a New Englander, I was nowhere near as used to this as someone from, say, Boston would be thanks to Brockton Bay having a rather weird microclimate that kept the place much warmer than its location would suggest. That, combined with the complete absence of weather forecasting, made for being very much caught off guard by a sudden snow storm. Not having the slightest idea of what to expect from any given day was… going to take some getting used to. Hopefully it'd be at least less snowy once I was out of the mountains.

Navigating the street back to the inn was much less difficult than it could've been, probably because Helgen was not that big of a town by my standards and as the place had a fairly straightforward layout for the main streets. Being a settlement that had to have grown up around what sounded like a major trade road likely explained that. Said simplicity did not, however, mean that the densely woven wool wrapped around me hadn't been turned from a garish yellow to downy white by the time I stumbled through the Homestead's door. Surprisingly, I was not all that cold yet, despite the gaps inherent to cloaks compared to modern coats. Could've been some subtle magic, but I suspected that it was that my assumptions were wrong about how effective the garment would be. It wouldn't have been a thing if coats were fundamentally better than any cloak.

Vilod practically teleported over to me as the heavy timber door closed, deftly removing my cloak and hanging it in an alcove with a gravel patch instead of planks or flagstones.

"There you go, that should get you sorted. Looks like you found that just in time, eh lass?" the innkeeper said with a warm smile. "Get yourself down by the fire and don't be afraid to ask for a bowl of soup if you need it. The weather is horribly erratic this time of year, so we keep a pot of herbal broth ready just in case. No charge for that, but if you come across any frost mirriam before you leave, it'd be appreciated if you'd bring some here for our stores. I don't know how it's used in High Rock, but it's good for chasing off the chill and can add a good flavor to various things."

I nodded with a slight smile of my own, and headed over to a chair near the fire. I might not have been as cold as I'd have previously expected, but that didn't mean that I was feeling warm either. Maybe I'd get some of that warm-up soup too, as the pot nearest me had a rather intriguing floral scent to it. Setting my pack down, I then almost jumped out of my skin as Julian's voice sounded behind me.

"I see you were able to make your purchases before the storm rolled in then. Good." The glare I sent at him did nothing as he continued "I wouldn't have gotten the bedroll personally, but to each their own. Same with the same cloak, but you aren't nearly as much of a stealth focused fighter so yellow's not a terrible choice. Might even be helpful, as townsfolk will generally be more open towards people who don't look the sneaky type. Which is very useful to those who are the sneaky type and prefer city work. Not that I think you're a pickpocket or assassin."

Of course I wasn't. My parents raised an activist, not a crook or a murderer. Self-defense was one thing, but killing people for money? Not happening. That wasn't who I was, and never would be.

Clearly seeing distaste on my face, he gave a pat to my shoulder. "Good girl. That path leads nowhere good and your reaction tells me you know it."

"Being skeptical of authority is one thing," I replied, dropping into the chair. "But I wasn't raised to be a criminal. We had enough of those back home already, and there's no point making it worse. And I very much don't see a reason to go that route here either, especially if adventuring is at all able to support me."

Chuckling, he said "You would not believe how much it can. And exciting too, which is part of why you can make so much coin. When a simple jaunt into the forest to deal with a pack of wolves that have been harassing a farmer's goats can lead to delving into a long forgotten ruin full of treasures and valuable artifacts, it becomes oh so easy to become richer than a Count of Cyrodiil. You'd think that we'd have run out of places that haven't been stripped bare, but between the Dwemer being fiendishly good at securing their cities, the ever shifting landscape burying and unearthing sites, and a frankly hilarious number of hidden chambers, there's always something new. And that's not even counting the various places that simply faded from memory or were sealed by some ancient magic. Supposedly there's this cursed redoubt of the Dragon Cult over in the Rift that's still practically untouched despite having fallen to an attacking army for that exact reason."

I couldn't help but stare at the man. Well now, that just triggered a wanderlust I hadn't known I had. Perhaps this might end up being better than I'd thought?

 

[Sandy River DL]

I'd been sitting on this in the hopes of building a backlog again, but then my pace dropped from what I had when writing this one and it's been a month...

---

I woke with a pained groan. While nowhere near as sore as the previous morning, I still hurt a fair bit more than I'd been anticipating after how I'd been feeling before going to bed. Maybe it was just the straw mattress aggravating things, or something along those lines. Could also have been that inactivity had caused my muscles to tighten back up, but I was leaning towards it being the bed. It wasn't exactly a bad mattress, especially when I wasn't wearing armor, but it still wasn't nearly as good as even the relatively cheap one I had at home.

Hauling myself out of bed with a soft hiss, before going about the task of dressing myself in my armor again. Much of which was less about actually getting anything on, and more about fiddling around with the straps and belts to make things sit right. That meant, it seemed, having the majority of the weight resting on my hips rather than my shoulders. You'd think we'd have learned about that in school, but apparently not. Or at least not in middle school. Still, an interesting lesson learned.

Stopping briefly in the main room to collect one of those breakfast pies from the serving girl I still hadn't gotten around to learning the name of, I collected my cloak and set out for the gate with one goal in mind. Find wolves. Killing animals that were just minding their own business didn't exactly sit right with me, but I needed the money and the wolves were causing problems for the locals.

Walking back up the road a ways, I managed to find a trail into the forest above Helgen and took it. The trail was clearly not meant for hauling large trees out of the woods, but also had clear signs of being traveled with carts. Best guess was that the local woodcutter was focused on providing firewood and other smaller wood supplies, especially since the town didn't have a way to power a lumber mill. Drawing my sword, I began making my way deeper into the trees in the hopes of encountering some of the aggressive canines I was out for. Or was it lupines? I couldn't recall what the difference was right now. Not that it actually mattered much.

Several hours of trudging along the trail netted me exactly zero wolf encounters. I would see at various points places where small trees had been cut down, and even followed some side trails aways to see what I could find. Nothing to even hint at the presence of wolves, at least not that I could see. An experienced hunter or tracker probably would've spotted dozens of signs that this city girl completely overlooked. In retrospect, accepting this task when I had no experience in the field was probably not very smart.

Then a wolf leapt out of the trees at me. The impact set me stumbling, but no follow up attack came, allowing me to regain my balance. Looking down, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer dumb luck I'd had as I'd managed to react to the sudden lunge just right and caught the wolf's neck with the edge of my blade, killing it with its own momentum. Convenient, as I was pretty sure it might've been able to get its jaws around my throat if I hadn't. Which rather drove home the need to upgrade my armor, as I was pretty sure that the fur collar wouldn't have protected me. And if an animal was that much of a threat, the bandits that had been mentioned would be all the more so. My hood might've been able to keep the wind off, but I'd need something that would protect my head and neck.

Deciding to leave the massive gray-furred animal where it was for the moment, I kept moving in order to hopefully run across more of them. Whether that was the best idea or not, I wasn't sure, but I did know that wolves normally were in packs and that if I hadn't been jumped by more already I probably wasn't going to be. With that in mind though, I'd need to be more aware of my surroundings. Getting mobbed by a full pack would not end well.

Turning down yet another side path, I soon found myself in what was clearly a newer area of cutting. That might've meant something, but whatever it did, I couldn't place it at the moment. Fifteen minutes passed before something happened again. This being a howling coming from three directions at once. I'd definitely found more wolves.

Five of the creatures erupted from the undergrowth at once, but I was ready this time. My sword swept across three as I spun about, while my walking stick caught a fourth across the brow. The last one grabbed hold of my right leg in its jaws, but the heavy fabric of my pants seemed to thwart it rather well. I'd need to get that fixed, but a repair job was better than being bitten by a wild animal in a place that probably had never even heard of microbes, let alone antibiotics. Thinking about it, I was lucky I didn't get sick after being bit by that vampire the first day.

Gritting my teeth, I brought my sword down on the wolf as hard as I could with the angle I could strike at. A jolt ran up my arm as the weapon sheared through the animal's neck with a flicker of flame. Shaking the now severed head off my leg, I then stabbed the wolf I'd hit with my walking stick and winced at the pitiful yelp it let loose as I failed to hit anything rapidly fatal. The smell of burnt meat wafted from the creature as the magic on my blade seared its insides, finishing the job I'd botched. FIghting back the urge to vomit, I pushed onward. I had to assume there would be more about and I needed to keep going. The more I dealt with, the more money I'd get for this.

Not long after, I reached the end of the trail but kept going. The den was probably nearby, and that would need to be cleared for this to be done with. If only because there might be more remaining there.

After what had to have been another half hour passed of me pushing through the underbrush, I found myself at a large craggy outcrop with a deep crevice off to one side. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into it. This was most likely the den, so I had to be careful. Using my walking stick to probe the ground ahead of me, I slowly moved deeper and deeper into the crevice. The first oddity I noticed was that, despite my advance, light levels weren't changing much. The second was that the stone around me was actually rather different from what I'd seen elsewhere in these mountains. Okay, mountains were made of a variety of rocks, but I hadn't seen anything like marble before I found the outcrop, Which was a bit odd. Not as much as the light though.

Rounding a bend, I discovered why for both. This wasn't a natural outcropping of rock, it was the uppermost portion of a half-collapsed ruin. It was like someone had decided that the best material for Gothic architecture was snow white marble and gone wild with the stuff. Before me was a great hall like the one sound in the big European cathedrals, lined with benches and tables of bronze-trimmed stone, piles of dirt and rock spilling out of what had likely once been windows along the edges. Except for the far wall, where there was a pair of doorways leading deeper into the long-buried structure. Above me were ornate chandeliers adorned with softly glowing crystals of some sort that I had no way of recognizing, assuming they were even something I could be familiar with.

Then a shard of ice crashed into the wall next to me and shattered with an alarming sound. Tracing its path back, I froze at the sight of a sword-wielding skeleton shambling around the corner of the nearer doorway. Whirls of frost came together around its free hand, and I only just managed to step aside in time to avoid a second high speed icicle being fired at me. Right, Julian said there were undead. This must be one of them, but this place didn't look at all Nordic in any way I could make the connection.

Not wanting to risk a third ice spell hitting me, I dove forward and took cover behind the nearest table. Just in time too, as the anticipated shard of ice hissed overhead and shattered behind me. Vaulting over the table and rolling clumsily to the next, I carefully poked my head up to see the skeleton advancing towards me having apparently given up trying to impale me with frozen water. Good news for me, as that made closing into swording range was going to be much easier. But also possibly bad news too, if it had any actual skill from life, as I was a rank amature who had literally just picked up a blade and started swinging. Then again, I had a fire-enchanted sword and fire was usually good against the undead. It being a skeleton would also hopefully be in my favor.

Leaping up, I charged the animated pile of bones and swung my sword at it with what I hoped was a valiant war cry but was likely more of a panicked scream. Bones went flying every which way as absolutely no resistance whatsoever was offered to my blow and the skeleton came apart like Jenga tower. Stooping, I picked up its weapon and frowned at the clearly worse-for-where sword. Time had clearly not been kind to whatever it was made of, as the metal was dull and chipped, with barely an edge left on it. The long leaf-shaped blade was nice-looking though and might be salvageable by a good smith, so I slipped through a loop probably intended for a torch or something.

Advancing through the room to the doorway the skeleton ad emerged from, I carefully peered around the corner to check for more. It was clear, happily, so I kept going. Delving into a dungeon inhabited by the walking dead wasn't what I'd been expecting to do, but it beat traipsing through the woods getting attacked by wolves. Hopefully I'd gotten enough of those killed. I could worry about that later though, exploring this place could easily earn me a lot of money on top of whatever I might get for helping with the wolves. Heck, I could probably get by with not accepting payment for it if I could find stuff here that the merchants in Helgen would buy. And if this place had an armory, I might even possibly find more armor for myself, assuming any of it is still in good condition.

Continuing onwards, I soon found myself in a smaller chamber with a dozen chests made of the same white stone and bronze combination as the tables I'd passed in the first room. Trying the lid on the nearest one, I found it opened easily despite looking like it'd be heavy. Inside was a small pile of gems and silver coins, which I quickly gathered up and poured into the seemingly bottomless belt pouch I kept my coin purse in. I also grabbed a glittering double-edged dagger made of a green glass-like material and a coppery metal that made up most of the handle. The sheath was nowhere to be seen and had probably been made of something rather more perishable than the weapon itself.

Checking the next one netted me more silver and gems, which followed their predecessors, and a pair of bejeweled necklaces that had some rather interesting motifs. There was also an odd tingle to them, which made me feel cool without being chilled at all. Probably magical in some way. Maybe fire resistance?

The third chest was clearly locked, but a cursory look around revealed the key to have been hastily jammed behind the previous chest and was trivially recovered. Within was a crown of a strange white metal that had a pearlescent sheen to it and was set with sapphires the size of my thumbnails, which promptly went into my pack. Nothing screamed 'valuable' like being locked up after all. Whatever else had been in there was much less resilient and had been reduced to rotten scraps of cloth and fittings that took a bit more work to fish out, even if their value was more likely as materials for new things rather than history.

Before I could move on to the fourth, I heard the clattering of bone on stone and dashed over to the wall next to the far door where the sound was coming from. The moment the skeleton became visible, I slashed it across the ribcage and used my other arm to protect my face from flying bones. Checking the floor afterwards was a bit more unpleasant than the aftermath of the first, as it was beginning to sink in that this was once a living person little different from me, but I did come up with a pair of keys and a second glass-like dagger. That didn't lessen the sense of distastefulness that had set in, but it was useful.

Poking my head through the door revealed a hall going off to the right with no signs of anything moving about, so I returned to the chests. More gems, coins, jewelry, and small items populated most of the remaining chests, but the last of the dozen contained three surprisingly intact books similar to the one I'd found back at the shrine cave. These ones however had a glyph resembling a stylized ball of fire instead of the odd arch-like one. Whether this was indicative of different contents or a cultural thing, I could say at this point and probably should actually investigate soon. Sliding them into my pack, I stood and moved into the hall.

Said hall, annoyingly, led to another right corner that turned into a staircase. A long one. With multiple turns of its own. Which might have been a defensive feature, I hadn't read nearly enough about the topic to know for sure. That, or the idea was to get deep down while staying in a given area. Again, not something I'd spent much time reading about.

After what felt like hours but was probably something like twenty minutes at the most, I came to a larger chamber with multiple doors around the walls and was almost filled with the same sort of stone tables and benches as the first one. This time though, there were bodies. Desiccated corpses clad in armor of the same pearlescent white metal as the crown I'd found, trimmed with the coppery metal present on the glass daggers. A strange rasping sound caught my ear and my eyes were drawn to the nearest corpse, which was getting up from its spot. Fuck.

The undead charged me with a rattling croaking noise that I couldn't help but think was some attempt at speech with organs no longer capable of it. Dodging a clumsy lunge from the surprisingly unarmed corpse, I stabbed my sword into its neck and was rewarded with a horrific stench as it caught fire and collapsed. Pulling the blade free, I stepped past the burning remains, and only just barely avoided taking a spear to the chest from a second walking dead. Grabbing the shaft before it could pull back for another thrust, I then gave it a good yank and swept my weapon across its throat. As it fell, I jabbed the spear into a third that was starting to rise, knocking it over as I'd struck armor instead of flesh.

Before I could take another go at it, an arrow slammed into my chest and exploded in a shower of large splinters. Glancing up, I spotted the archer trying and failing to place a second arrow on the string with fingers that were no longer up to the task. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, I stabbed at the recovering zombie-mummy thing and managed to score a more solid hit. Which didn't seem to do much, as it responded by grabbing the shaft and trying to force itself along it to get at me. Unsuccessfully, as the spear had a crosspiece at the base of the point, but it was trying. Choking up on the long weapon, I then remedied the problem by running my sword through a gap in its armor.

Pulling both weapons free, I near-immediately had the spear knocked from my grip stopping two swords from hitting me. Neither undead seemed to have taken the move well either, one having broken its decayed fingers in doing so, while the other's sword arm appeared to have locked up. That one I addressed first, by removing said arm at the elbow and following up with a chop to the unhelmeted head. Another blow removed the head of the second.

Grabbing up the spear again, I charged the archer, which had finally given up trying to shoot me again and instead drawn an axe. Stabbing it in the unprotected shoulder worked wonders for negating that threat. My follow-up sword swing finished the job a moment later. I was beginning to like this particular combination of weapons…

Maybe I should see about finding an enchanter to make it even better?

Going back to where I'd entered, I recovered my dropped walking stick and found a convenient set of loops to secure the item to my pack. That done, I surveyed the area for anything obvious that I could grab before trying the various doors. Nothing stood out other than the corpses, which I wasn't currently inclined to search.

Wandering over to a door I picked at random, I gave it a push. Locked. Pulling out the keys I'd gotten from the second skeleton, I inserted one into the slot and turned it. Didn't budge, so I switched to the other. Which made a satisfying 'click' and allowed me to open the door. On the other side was a room full of chests, racks, and shelves, with what were clearly weapons and armor. Perfect.

Entering the armory, I made a beeline for the shelves in search of armor. Much of it would be far too large for me, but I was five-four already and Julian made it sound like finding armor that fit would be fairly simple in ruins like this. It was merely a matter of locating some. It wouldn't be a perfect fit by any means, that would require going to a smith and commissioning a set, but I probably would be able to get something reasonably close and tweak the fit when getting it refurbished. And it wasn't like I needed a full set, just enough pieces to complete what I already had. Though if I found one that was a good enough fit, I might just bring the whole thing back and see if it was any good.

Surveying the shelves took far longer than I'd have liked, but I did in fact locate a set of armor that seemed like it'd be a reasonably good fit. Somewhat less flexible than my current scale, it was made from plates of that white metal sown together with braided strands of the also seemingly ubiquitous copper-like metal creating something that looked vaguely like old Japanese armor had been crossbred with a high fantasy movie's idea of elven armor. It was lighter from what I could tell, but someone more experienced would be able to determine whether that was at the cost of protection. In addition to the body pieces, it also came with armored pants that covered the thighs with more metal plates while the lower legs would be protected by the solid greaves that were present. Surprisingly fine gauntlets and a helmet made of two separate parts completed the set, though it might have been intended to be worn with a shield as well.

None of this would fit into my pack, so I shifted over to searching for something to carry the armor in, preferably some sort of magical bag like my belt pouch. While doing so, I took the opportunity to swap out the spear I'd initially found for one that was in better condition and had a point more suited to cutting as well as thrusting. Much better for the kinds of fights I was expecting, at least if my experiences so far were a good indicator.

Not long after that, I collected another pair of the glassy daggers and was beginning to wonder if anything not metal or stone had survived however many centuries this place had been abandoned for. And, as is how such things always seem to work, that is when I spotted a large bag made of some sort of reptile leather. Just large enough to fit the chest piece of the armor I'd picked out, a quick inspection showed that it was, as I'd been hoping for, bigger on the inside. By how much, I couldn't guess, but it seemed to be large enough to carry out the armor. I promptly tested this by stuffing it with not only the armor, but just about everything I could get my hands on that seemed reasonably valuable and could be made to go through the opening.

Once I was satisfied with the carrying capacity of what I was starting to think was a saddlebag of some description, I went through the various steps needed to secure it to my pack and re-layer everything on myself. The combination of the saddlebag and walking stick on my back was rather a bit more cumbersome than I'd have liked, but that was what I could do at the moment. I'd need to ask Julian for tips and tricks for this sort of thing when I got back, as I hadn't anticipated doing this today. Probably should have, given what he said about how easy it was to stumble across ruins, but I didn't. Still, it was a learning experience, and one that wasn't going to kill me for screwing up.

My stomach chose that exact moment to growl. Of course I hadn't thought to bring any food for the road, I'd been expecting to only be out for a few hours and thus the only food I had on me was the preserved stuff I'd bought for traveling. Removing my cloak and pack again, I sighed and resolved to buy more when I got back. Fishing out a bundle of waxed linen and closing things up again, I carefully unwrapped the food and blinked. It looked like a large piece of jerky and a cake of flat oat bread with bits of dried fruit.

Unhooking one of my water skins, which I had thought to get filled, I sat down and carefully started gnawing on the jerky. There was a notable gaminess to it under the heavy smoke flavor and extensive seasoning that made me think it might be venison rather than beef which was an interesting change. I'd had it a few times when a dock worker brought some to a cookout, but it wasn't something I normally ate. That was also fresh and grilled, not dried and cured, so it was… an experience. It, and the oat bread, were tough and dense, hard to chew and not the most pleasant things I'd eaten since arriving here. The jerky, at least, was probably meant to be added to a soup or stew along with foraged ingredients to soften it up, but I couldn't exactly try that right now. At least it was somewhat edible as it was.

As for the water… It was lukewarm, but that was to be expected. The taste left much to be desired, with a strong rust flavor that gave the vague impression of drinking blood when combined with the temperature. This was probably what had the residents saying that it'd gone bad, though it was still entirely drinkable, if unpleasant. Might have to ask if this was a regular occurance, as it might have something to do with the changing seasons affecting the water table.

Once I was finished eating, I packed everything away again and kitted back up. Walking out of the armory, I headed to the opposite door and gave that a try. It opened easily and revealed a rather dilapidated barracks space that looked to be devoid of any occupants. Which was nice, as that meant no fighting undead again. Yet, at least. I poked around to see if I could find anything that seemed valuable enough to grab, but the only thing of note was another key that I pulled from the remains of a bed.

The next door merely led to a kitchen that was in terrible shape, looking like it'd caught fire at some point. Seeing no reason to linger there, I moved on to the fourth door. It was locked, but opened to the non-armory key I'd gotten from the skeleton earlier. This one was clearly a store room, full of chests and shelves and crates. Shedding my cloak and pack again, I got to searching the place for items of interest.

More silver coins were shoved into my belt pouch, several ingots of the pearlescent white metal were set aside along with ones of iron, steel, and the glass-like material used in the daggers. A stone disc with Norse-looking runes joined the metals, as did a pair of hammers made from an odd green-gray metal. Further exploration revealed nothing else of interest beyond yet another key and a small bronze statue of an elf holding a stylized sun. Taking those, I loaded everything up and donned my pack and cloak once more.

Heading to the final, and largest, door, I decided to try the storeroom key first. The resulting click was followed by several thunks and a faint grinding noise as the apparently much more complicated lock released itself. Once things went quiet, the door swung open on its own, revealing another storeroom, though this one was clearly a more secure one. Gold, silver, and gems all glittered in the light of the illuminating crystals that lit the ruin, and I couldn't help but gasp at the sight of it all. Coins, jewelry, and assorted artifacts all ripe for the taking, even if I was under no illusion that I could bring them all back with me. There was no way that I had that much space in my expanded storage, and even with the magic, I could feel my recently acquired bag getting heavy.

I'd have to prioritize what I took, and that meant focusing on jewelry and artifacts over coinage and loose gems. Walking over to the nearest row of shelves, I repeated the process I'd come up with and then began grabbing up what looked most promising. Namely, a collection of necklaces, circlets, and rings that most resembled the fancy stuff I'd once seen in a jewelry store at the mall. Braided fine wire was not something that would be easily made here, based on what I'd come across. Not locally at least. So all that went into the bag, along with a crown similar to the one I found earlier.

Walking through the shelves, I continued gathering jewelry while also snagging the occasional likely ceremonial object or especially large gem. Among these were an intricately engraved cube made of a bronze-like metal with an odd shimmering quality to it, like it was covered in oil that was being moved to music, and a sphere of similar construction. I had no idea what either of them were, but they wouldn't be in a vault if they weren't valuable. Several other items made of the same metal made their way into my collection not long after, including a stout dagger with a heavy blade and an unnerving chill to it despite it not being any colder than everything else.

At the very back of the vault was a smaller metal door that somewhat resembled a safe. This being inside an already secure room, whatever was within had to be especially valuable…

Trying the barracks key opened it and revealed a large Black Book, the capital letters all but forcing themselves into the words even in thought. Bound in what might have been leather, it was inscribed with the likeness of some betentacled thing, and the urge to open it was almost overpowering. Shoving the Book into my bag dealt with that rather concerning effect, allowing me to focus on the other contents. Such as the second cube, which was glowing with an inner light and I could've sworn it was emitting a faint hum as well. It too went into the bag. The final two items were a shard of luminous blue crystal that was best described as resembling solidified starlight, and a third white metal crown. This one was more elaborate however, and had a large blue gem embedded in it.

Into the bag went the crystal, but the crown I kept out and stared at. I half wanted to wear it, even if doing so wouldn't actually mean much, or afford much protection. While more the kind of girl who'd wanted to be a superhero rather than a princess when I was younger, it could be fun to try out just this once. Here, deep in an ancient ruin well away from any witness who could catch me embarrassing myself.

Lowering my hood, I slipped the crown on and was pleasantly surprised to find that it fit me. There'd been a decent chance it would not and that would've been disappointing. After a few minutes, I began to feel a bit silly, and removed the crown to the bag. Giving the vault a final once-over, I packed back up and started retracing my steps back towards the surface. Before I made it to the stairs though, a yawn suddenly emerged and a bone-deep weariness set in. How long had I been at this? It was basically impossible to tell underground what time it was without a watch and I didn't have one.

At that point I had two choices, continue on and hope that it was still light out and that I could make it to Helgen before night fully fell, or set up camp in the ruin. As much as I didn't like the idea of the latter option, it was probably safer than a night in the open in the mountains. At least being underground offered protection from the elements and even from the wildlife if I barricaded myself somewhere. Probably the armory, as that seemed well ventilated already.

Yeah, I'd do that.