Chapter XIII: Rorikstead
We spent a good portion of the evening retelling how we met and faced the raider clan, I did learn that they called themselves the Home-shorn when Hrongar namedropped them after I showed them the savior's last stand. Apparently, the enchanted suit of armor was known as Home-shorn's rampart to most people.
It is rather odd that it would have two names, but maybe my identification only shows either the original or true name of things...
The name implied some kind of tragic backstory but if you continue raiding people centuries after whatever reason you were 'shorn from your home' as it were, then any sympathy I may have had disappears rather quickly.
Some time into our story a couple of circle members from Jorrvaskr arrived when they heard about our deeds, because of course rumors would spread before I even left the damn palace.
Evidently, they came to congratulate Durrak for his involvement, but instead of the proud look and a puffed-out chest they were expecting, the young orc paled upon seeing them.
He looked at me pleadingly but there was no mercy in my eyes as I started telling the tale of Bleak Falls barrow.
A couple of drinks and a short story later everyone was laughing and Durrak was doing his best to hide his red face from the crowd.
Hrongar, Balgruuf's brother shakes his head "We shouldn't laugh at the lad. If there wasn't a mage right next to him he really would have died then and there."
This seems to sober up most of them and they give some apologetic looks to the young orc.
I finish the story, omitting the part about the dragonstone. As an afterthought, I point toward the sacks we carried and say "Oh and we also liberated the valuables that were probably stolen."
Balgruuf gives me a puzzled look "You wish to return them?"
I simply nod.
He shakes his head with some exasperation and says "I will have to compensate you for that at least, you just returning the stolen loot would be unfair to you all."
"I won't say no to good old septims" I snark and he easily agrees.
He scratches his chin before getting an idea "We will be traveling to Rorikstead to assure the people of their safety and to return their belongings to them, you could travel there with us and then continue on to your original destination?"
Was there anything interesting happening in Rorikstead again? I remember it being just the spot to get a somewhat interesting companion but that was it.
Well, I would have to at least pass near the place on my way west so there is no reason to refuse him.
"It would be an honor and a pleasure Jarl." I say with a slow nod.
He scoffs and waves his hand "None of that Jarl stuff, you helping my people means you can just call me Balgruuf."
The only one among the court that shows any surprise is Proventus, but he hides it quickly.
"Of course Balgruuf" I say with a smile.
We are offered a place to stay in Dragonsreach and spend the rest of the night enjoying ourselves.
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"You want me to ruin a perfectly good orichalcum spear with some squiggly emerald filled lines boy?" the grey haired Nord smith half-yells in irritation.
"Yes." I deadpan.
"What is even the point of using gems of all things?" Durrak asks from the side.
"I just found that having a different material to strengthen the runic matrix added to the original item seems to work better than merely carving the runes directly." I shrug and add "Besides, gems are neat!"
"I know how runes work boy, I wasn't born yesterday" Eorlund Grey-mane scoffs at me.
"Then what seems to be the issue old man?" I ask, totally done with this.
The old man pulls out a blade from a wall-stand and shows it to me, I raise an eyebrow and take a look at the completely flawless blade.
[Skyforge steel broadsword: Magic-infused steel with runes seamlessly integrated into the blade, deals fire damage.]
I blink and turn to the old smith with amazement in my voice "How in oblivion did you manage to perfectly carve in the runes without leaving a trace?"
He gives me a proud smirk "Skill and hard work."
Yeah, should have expected that.
Seeing as I don't have the time to pester the man for an explanation all day I ask drily "Allright, oh almighty smith among smiths, since you are oh so skilled would you kindly carve out these runes into the spear?"
He pretends to not notice my sarcasm and nods "At least you know your place kid" Making my eye twitch as he grabs the spear and gets to work.
I shake my head and join Durrak at the corner of the room.
While we wait I ask "So, do you want to come with me to Solitude or are you going to stay here and prepare for the inevitable second attack by those werewolf hunters?"
He seems conflicted but still says in an apologetic tone "I will stay here, you need that sneaky fellows help far more than mine where you are going."
I chuckle at him and he gives me a confused look "Oh don't worry Durrak, I am not disappointed, in fact I dare say I agree with your choice."
He lets out a relieved sigh and asks "Why are you so certain they will attack again? We could have killed most of them back in the cairn?"
I shake my head "The chances of that are close to non-existent. They are a renowned mercenary company hundreds strong, and if they had the guts to attack once they will inevitably do so again."
Durrak looks grim, but that soon turns into determination.
We remain for a good while, the only sound we hear is the constant and rhythmic chiseling being done by Eorlund.
Apparently, not being able to simply do nothing Durrak asks me for the tenth time today "You sure that the armor just needs some polishing and it will work?"
"For the last damned time Durrak, yes." I sigh.
He nods happily and starts fiddling with a knife of his like a hyperactive child.
We wait for one hour until Eorlund calls us over and presents Durrak's spear to us.
We both gape for what I guess are very different reasons.
Durrak asks "Isn't it literally the same though?"
Eurlund snorts and points at me "Ask your friend here."
My friend turns to me but I simply shake my head and grab the spear, heading to the nearby enchanting table we prepared in advance.
The runes are perfectly integrated into the metal, the only difference between them is just the slightest bit of warping I detect deep in the metal. Wordlessly I summon a grand soul gem Durrak bought and break it above the weapon, and focus on guiding the power of the enchantment.
(Durrak's pov)
I hear the old man whistle "Ill be damned, the kid knows his stuff."
"You can see what is going on?" I ask.
He scoffs "Bah, of course not. I just learned how to recognize a shit enchanter from a good one over the years, and your buddy here ain't a shit one."
High praise coming from the greatest smith in the land.
I am glad my friend is doing well, even if he does seem to have become more ruthless... Having all that power at one's fingertips, maybe it would feel like squashing ants at some point.
I just hope he doesn't eat those words later.
(Reyvin's pov)
Finally the enchantment settles and I bring up the spear, now glowing in ominous red runes.
[Durrak's Fang: An orichalcum spear passed through the generations of an orc clan, carved by Eorlund Grey-mane and enchanted by Reyvin Dagoth to take the lives of others and heal the user.]
I present the spear to my friend with a smile and he starts twirling it excitedly.
After a bit he frowns "It feels completely the same..."
The old smith laughs and slaps his back, almost making him double over "And what were you expecting boy? It won't feel different until you stab something."
There is a glint in Durrak's eyes as he looks at me "Hey Reyvin, can you come here for a second? I want to show you something."
I deadpan at him and he breaks out into laughter.
After he calms down he thanks me profusely and does the same to Eorlund.
We say goodbye to the smith and turn to leave, but he stops me and gives me a small booklet.
I raise a confused eyebrow and he says "Don't look at me like that, you saved those dumbasses and obviously want to know what I did with the carving, so there is a little reward from me."
I look at the book and the title reads 'The Carvers Art' rather blunt in what it is, but that works.
"Thank you old man" I say.
He waves me off "Just don't turn into a shit and we are even, now off with you! I need to fix that cursed armor."
I leave the skyforge with a smile.
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When Durrak was done showing his spear off to the companions, something that when I voiced made people chuckle at the once more embarrassed orc, I pulled him to the side.
"This is goodbye again my friend" I say and then add "Try not to kiss any more spiders while I am gone would you?"
He punches my shoulder and says "Yeah, ill try. But you should also tone it down with the whole all-powerful wizard persona you got going. Someone will punch you for it."
I chuckle "Oh don't worry I know when to be subtle."
He gives me a doubtful look but doesn't comment.
We join Davos who was chatting up Aela the huntress of all people and share a final drink before the two of us have to leave.
After saying our goodbyes, Davos and I join the procession preparing to journey outside Whiterun.
Balgruuf offered for us to join him in his carriage, much to the protests of his housecarl, and we accepted gratefully.
The voyage to Rorikstead was surprisingly peaceful, or not considering we were traveling with an entire unit of hold guardsmen and hosecarls.
The rolling tundra of the central hold of Skyrim was a beautiful sight, even with all the damned snow.
I took the moment to sketch the view so I can pay for someone to actually paint it for me later.
I spent the majority of the trip in relaxed conversation with Balgruuf, who mostly asked about the state of the other holds and any rumors that might be interesting to a man of his station.
The conversation then led to my new prowess as an enchanter and not long after I had a sizeable order for anti-poison rings for when I get to Solitude.
Finally, on the second evening since we left Whiterun we saw the walled town of Rorikstead.
Well I say walled, but it was just a very thick palisade that would doubtless fall over if attacked by any stronger group, something easily confirmed by a blown out section of the wall to the south of the town.
The settlement was surrounded by fields that were growing even now, when the harsh Skyrim winter was already tormenting the land.
"How exactly does that work?" I ask the Jarl while pointing out the fields.
He shrugs "I don't honestly know, but the place has been a blessing. Must be a gift from Kyne and Zenithar."
I take a look with my third eye, and what I feel is not the warm embrace of Kyne... but the cold gaze of a Daedra.
I let out a tired sigh, drawing confused looks from everyone but Davos who instead looks like I just ruined his day.
"What is it?" Asks Balgruuf in a worried tone.
"Oh there is a gift alright... just of a more Daedric variety I am afraid."
And the poor Jarl looks like he just aged a decade.
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The heart chamber is in dire need of repair, your power stones will do.
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