AoaRD #9: Ghost Stories

Postponed for a week to make room for a back log of comic reviews, Baker Street Holmes returns with another adventure in the life of journeyman blacksmith, Urbal gro-Dushnikh, an Orc in skyrim who just wants to be left alone.

Flashback     Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8

1st of Heartfire, 201

Arrived early afternoon in Solitude, in time for a beheading.  Poor fool is apparently responsible for Ulfric’s escape after he killed the the late King Torygg.  I care not for the politics of Nords, but for how it effects my business, and Torygg’s death was very good for the blacksmiths of Skyrim.  Still, it is good to see that somewhere in Skyrim the humans still know what a proper punishment was.  This man opened a gate and lost his head.  You may recall, journal, that not long ago I was sent to prison, framed for nearly a dozen murders, escaped from prison and they let me live free as though nothing had ever happened.

My pleasure at learning that there is a functioning judicial system left in the land of men was shattered by a very loud Meeko.  Damn dog doesn’t seem to like being in a city too much.  Finally took him to the bard’s college and left him on their doorstep.  He sings about as well as some of the bards I’ve seen, maybe they’ll like him.

We were able to get good prices from the blacksmith and general store.  Blacksmith’s apprentice was an idiot, but I guess I’m not really there to trade with him.  Still, I might remember that for when I’m looking for a job…

We’re sleeping at The Winking Skeever tonight.  In the morning, we head south for to pick up some lost cargo belonging to Lisbet from Arnleif and Sons in Markarth and then we’ll make one last trip back.

Urbal gro-Dushnikh
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2nd of Heartfire, 201

Only a small forsworn camp around the stolen supplies today.  At this point, it was a little matter for Uthgerd and I at this point.  The four saber cats, six wolves, two mud crabs and a bear that we fought to get there made the Forsworn camp look like a Saturalia party.

Regardless they had some good supplies which will make for good trading back in Markarth.  Stopping for the night at this little inn called Old Hrolden we’ll be off in the morning.

     ***     

The innkeeper’s scream woke me not long after I meant to be up.  It seems there is ghost in the inn.  I figured it was just a story the inn keeper told to entice customers, and yet, there it is, sitting by the fire.

Draugr I can stab.  Vampires can be beheaded.  Skeletons: smashed.  Ghosts… ghosts creep me out.  Probably not sleeping any more tonight.

Urbal gro-Dushnikh