AoaRD #8: Loose Ends

After a brief sojourn to focus more intensely on his master’s thesis, Baker Street Holmes returns to Skyrim and the adventures of an Orc named Urbal, who just wants to learn to craft the finest weapons and armor.  We now return to the two week posting schedule.

Flashback     Part One     Part Two     Part Three     Part Four     Part Five     Part Six     Part Seven

30th of Last Seed, 201

It is late, and I am at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun.  When I left Markarth this morning, I thought it would be the last time I saw it in many months.  But one of the many reason I enjoy travelling is the time it gives to think, at least when one it’s fighting off bandits and wild animals.

I realized have two tasks I really must complete before I leave indefinitely: the Jarl has a standing request for me to deal with a Forsworn raider camp in the north, and there is that dog, Barbas, who was speaking and belonged to Clavicus Vile.  I think it’s best I not keep a deadric prince or a Jarl waiting much longer, seeing as I am temporarily freed of my duties as a blacksmith in training.

I met with Uthgerd here in the inn, the Nord woman I brawled with a few weeks back.  She’s agreed to accompany me in the morning to deal with these quests.  I still do not think that one person could clear out a whole forsworn camp on their own, but together, I believe we may stand a chance.

Urbal gro-Dushnikh
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31st of Last Seed, 201

We’ve stopped to set up camp on a hill just outside the Forsworn camp.  We move in the morning, early, in hopes of catching them before too many have awoken.

Uthgerd has already proven a good choice for a travelling companion.  On our way to the Forsworn camp, we were attacked by a dragon, and instead of running she drew her bow.  Amazingly between us, we were able to bring down the beast, though I was nearly frozen in my armor from its breath.  Afterwards I had a very similar, nauseating, dizzying experience of rushing light as the dragon immolated.

Uthgerd seemed quite concerned about me for a heartbeat and then turned around and questioned me for not pulling out a bow to fight while it was air born.  Orcs don’t shoot.  It shows no strength.  She insisted on teaching me every time wee stopped to rest, but I still don’t think I like it much.

Urbal gro-Dushnikh
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1st of Heartfire, 201

Our assault on the forsworn camp went well, or as well as can be expected.  But we did slay the leader as the Jarl requested and we collected quite a lot of armor and weapons to trade.  Knowing weapons and armor of such an origin would be unwelcome in the Reach, we have decided to make the short trip to Solitude to trade, resupply and rest in more comfortable accommodations.

I’m writing this at midday from a shack Uthgerd insisted we rest at.  Her insistence is likely due to the assassin that just tried to kill me, though I see that as a very good reason to keep moving.  For all of her fighting spirit, I often forget that she is still a human after all and much more compassionate than Orcs would be.  I have yet to decide if this is a good thing.

The owner of the shack lay dead in his bed though he doesn’t seem to have been attacked in his sleep.  His dog was darting around like mad chasing a rabbit for food, so I suspect it’s been a few days.  In another of her silly sentimental acts, Uthgerd as suggested that we take the dog, his tag says his name is Meeko, to Solitude to find him a new home.  Something tells me she’s going to want to keep the mutt.

Urbal gro-Dushnik