By the time I’d gotten settled in, the sun was dipping below the horizon. Dinner was served with nightfall, and the guard shift changed. It was a comfortable place, at least compared to living on the ice in a tent. I was able to slip out of my armor, my jacket, my pants, and enjoy the fur covered bed. Right up until the windows struck me in the morning. They were damned persistent.

[Alert: Overall Level Increased]

[Level 3->5]

[Reward: 2 Perk Points]

[Advice: You have five unspent perk points. Spend them as soon as possible.]

[Alert: Quest Completed!]

[Quest: Safe Harbor]

[Description: You have braved the ice, the snow, the beasts, and resolved the fate of the one who held you captive. You find yourself in good company, it is now time to make your mark.]

[Reward: Ring of The Vigilant]

[Item: Ring of The Vigilant]

[Description: Black mages, night roamers, undead haunters beware! This ring increases the damage you deal to evil creatures, and protects you from their strikes.]

…

…

…

Alert, alert, alert, alert, alert, when will it fucking end?

The ring was silver with a golden jewel, inscriptions lined it, and it felt warm to the touch, like it had been left in the sun. I put it on my right hand while I pondered over the perks I’d chosen. I’d built off the skills I had, heavy armor, two handed weapons, sneaking, archery and smithing. The last was primarily for the weapon and armor maintenance I’d be doing. My axe was no rifle, but it would have to do. I’d looked for some that concerned perception, and come up with a few handy ones. I’d need to get more of these points, somehow, someway. The level ups were tied to skill increases, I’d figured that much after I got a level alert from working on my axe and gaining a point in smithing.

The five perks I’d chosen had been simple, direct upgrades. Plate Skin had increased the effectiveness of my armor somehow. It felt like it was fitted just a bit better, and seemed a bit sturdier when I wore it. The percentages and numbers were beyond me. What metric was it using? Armor points? Real, physical simulation of the steel? It was over my head and I didn’t care for it.

Marksman allowed me to burn the stamina bar for more accurate shots from a bow, which would be helpful once I got my hands on one. I’d heard that hunting for meat and pelts was big business in Winterhold. Those brave enough to go out and hunt the dangerous game did fairly well for themselves. Mercenary work was another well paid job, the Jarl didn’t have enough soldiers to keep the hold safe, because he didn’t have the money to pay them, because the hold was too dangerous for most traders, because…

It was a vicious feedback loop that the place was caught in. Criminals, bandits, rogue mages, monsters, all of them flourished in the poorly patrolled lands. That had been a key motivator for the two handed perk I’d taken. Bleed Like a Lamb, so eloquently named, would cause my axe strikes to inflict horrible bleeds. Paired with the vial of blood poison I’d only used a few drops of, it was a dangerous combination. Being that the cause of most of the problems, humans, could bleed, it seemed expedient.

Traceless had been the sneaking perk I’d selected, it would dampen the mark I left on the environment. It didn’t specify how it would do that, just that it’d be hard to tell if I had been through an area. It was more of a counter-intelligence perk than it was tactically useful, but battles don’t win wars. Being hard to track was a prized skill in my former line of work, whatever it had been. Specific memories of that life were vague shadows, though my knowledge on the how of things seemed solid. Getting caught was equal to getting got. A faceless man had told me that, hunkered down in a muddy hole somewhere.

Smithing was the outlier in my perk selections, it didn’t have a direct combative or survival use. Rugged Works improved the quality of equipment that I forged or maintained, with the former gaining double the bonus. I didn’t know my ass from my elbow in a proper blacksmith’s shop, but maintenance was next to godliness. Another anonymous, oily faced man had told me that when I’d bought my first car. I’d repeated it, howled it, cursed it, and beaten it through the heads of dozens of men. Maybe I’d remember some other useful maxims later.

It was the dawn of a new day, and I had things to do after the barrage of windows ended. Breakfast was served for the guards going on duty, I got some scrambled eggs, hashed potatoes, and some sort of sweet roll. The food was agreeable to me, miles better than the dry rations I’d been eating with Jurger. Food seemed to be expensive in Winterhold, a man had grumbled that he ate better on his guard duty than he did when he was free to work the rest of the year. That had led to my first idea for work.

“Rolvar, where would I go to buy a bow in town? And good steel arrow heads too.” I asked the guard I knew best.

“We don’t have an arms shop, the last blacksmith packed up his trade in the summer. Birna would be your best bet. Her store is the two story building down the road. She’ll be open by the time breakfast is finished. Failing that, you might take one from the armory. We have more arms than hands. Ask Jorman.” That drew a morbid chuckle from the guards.

I followed the advice. An hour later I had a decent war bow, a quiver of sharp steel arrows, and two hundred coins spent. My next question of Rolvar, he was guarding the Longhouse today, was who to talk with about joining a hunting party.

“Galteir. He’s a fur trader, hunters usually stop by his tannery… Oh, you should go see him now. He spoke of wanting to meet the man who brought his son back to him. He’ll find work for you.” Rolvar sent me off. Galteir’s tannery was outside the town, and downwind. The reek of piss and quicklime was almost unbearable, Karliene did not seem happy with our first outing.

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“Go on girl, you can hang around upwind, I know this must be awful.” I cocked my head back up the road. The dog didn’t wait. There were workers moving about, it seemed the days labors had already started. One of the men stopped me.

“Can I help you stranger?” He eyed the armor, bow, and axe I was carrying.

“My name is Johannes. I was the one that brought Olam’s body back. Galteir sent word that he wanted to speak with me.” That changed his expression.

“Come with me, Galteir’s in the house.” He led me back up the road, and to a hill overlooking the tannery, upwind of course. He knocked on the door and opened it.

“Galteir, Johannes is here, the man that—” A second voice cut in.

“I know his name. Come in Johannes, sit with me.” An older voice called out. I headed inside, the tannery worker left us. The house was well furnished, and seemed to be in good repair. There was a large hearth and several fine chairs in front of it, one occupied by a grey haired man with a tankard in hand.

“Sit, sit. Riga, ale for our guest.” He looked into an adjoining room, there was a girl there, well dressed, golden hair, a deceptively slight build. She looked like Olam and the older man, and she wasn’t a girl, but a woman, somewhere around twenty.

“Oh, please don’t make a special fuss for me sir.” I didn’t plan on drinking so early.

“It isn’t special, it’s deserved. You’ve done a good thing for my son. I heard that you wouldn’t let that monster turn him. My son goes to Sovngarde because of you. The undead have their souls broken, or so the stories go. You’ve brought me back the amulet I gave him the day he joined the Jarl’s guard, and for that I have something to remember his time here.” I looked to his left hand, the amulet was held in a tight grip. Riga brought a tankard from the kitchen.

“Thank you Riga. I’m glad I was able to give some closure. A drink to his memory then?” I raised my tankard. Galteir nodded, and drained the last of his. My tankard was mercifully light, but I made a show of taking a very long drink, despite making only one real gulp.

“I was told that you killed a troll, probably the same troll that killed my son. Are you a beast hunter?” He gestured at my armor and the weapons I’d leaned against the chair.

“Truthfully, I do not know. My memory is spotty, I was half dead and then clubbed over the head before I woke up in the mage’s cave. Some things have come to me, others are fragments. I think I was some sort of hunter, but I don’t know what kind. That’s part of why I’ve come to you.” He was the man that made the money with hunters after all.

“I can get work for you. A younger party is coming shortly for a job, they’d do well to have a more experienced man with them. Your memories will return, I’ve known men to lose themselves after a blow to the head. Time will heal it. Tell me, do you remember what a Horker is?” The man asked, tankard put aside. He was drunk, but seemed ready to talk business. An image of a large, ugly seal crossed my mind.

“Seals, they live along the coastline, right?”

“That’s right, and they make for good eating, good skins, and fine bones for crafts. We use every part of the animal here. That warbow of yours will kill a horker with a clean shot to the lungs, just don’t let them get back to the water, and mind that they can fight back. I need five horkers to fill an order from the Windhelm docks at the end of the month. That means I need all five by the end of the week to get the skins treated for sailing clothes. I’ll pay you well, a hundred coins for each. There’ll be more jobs from the docks if we do this one right.” Galteir put his hand out. I shook it.

“Thank you for the work, we’ll get those seals for you.” It seemed the deal was made.

“One last thing, don’t tell the boys how much I’m paying you. They think fifty coins each for a seal is a good deal, and it is, but they’ll be upset if they see your pay sack is heavier.” Galteir winked to me.

“Understood, it’s our business, not theirs.” I agreed. Now the pressure was on, I couldn’t screw this up. Hunting an animal I’d never actually seen before, what could go wrong?

The two boys, twins, arrived a while later. They looked to be near twenty, but not a day older. Galteir gave them loose directions, the specifics of the size we needed, and the due date. I’d not thought much about what Galteir had meant by end of the week, it turned out that was four days.

“C’mon boys, no time to waste then.” I’d stood from my seat when the real time table was explained. Galteir clapped his hands.

“You could learn something from this one. Take good care of him. Out with you, get on!” The older man shooed us out the door. There was a mule cart waiting outside the house. I heard a door open from the house again before we’d gone far. It was Riga standing on the balcony.

“Hey! Good luck, be careful.” She called awkwardly, like she hadn’t really thought it through.

“Thanks, we’ll keep our eyes open Riga!” One of the twins waved to her. She looked nervous, but smiled and went back inside.

“So, your names?” I looked to the boys as we made our way to the road.

“Angven and Anglin.” They spoke as one.

“Great, that won’t get confusing at all. Johannes. How far is it to the beach he mentioned?”

“A few hours by road, a day the safe way.” One of them spoke.

“What’s the danger on the road?”

“Bandits, bears, wolves, cats, corpses, mages, wraiths, elves, monsters, ghosts, just to name a few.” That wasn’t good.

“What are the most likely dangers on the roads then?”

“Bandits, wolves, and wraiths. Wolves are bigger problem on the way back with the blood on the wind. The mule can pull two horkers, we’d need to make the trip three times, so…” The safe way wasn’t an option.

“Two times, does anyone sell working dogs around here? Sled dogs?” I thought to the sled I’d inherited and offloaded.

“Wolfbite raises the Jarl’s dogs, raises working beasts on his own land.”

“That’s good. We’re going to head back to the Jarl’s longhouse and collect my sled. Two dogs should be able to pull a horker on it. Let’s get it moving.” The trip wasn’t long, and Karliene met us on the way. She’d had a hare in her jaws, intact.

“Good girl! Look at that, you’re a real killer aren’t you?” I’d taken the rabbit from her, much to the awe of the two boys.

“Why’d she bring that to you? She’s one of the Jarl’s dogs.” They were both admiring her.

“A reward for bringing the mage in. She’s mine now.” I gave her a scratch as she leapt into the back of the cart.

“A fine prize, those hounds sell for quite the sum.” Angven commented as we approached the town.

“How much? I didn’t think to ask.”

“Four hundred pieces was the price Wolfbite gave us for one of the usual stock. Six hundred for a prize pup. Which is she?” Anglin followed.

“That is quite the price.”

“So?”

“Mind your self before you mind others.” I didn’t give them an answer, a huff ended the conversation. We had the sled loaded, and a note from Wolfbite twenty minutes later. He’d given me a good price for two strong dogs, the harnesses for three. Karliene wasn’t especially trained for sledding, but he’d assured me that she was smart enough, and trained enough, that it wouldn’t be a problem.

Wolfbite’s home was on the outskirts of the town, and fairly obvious from the large barn behind the two floor house. A young man was working with a dog team in the back, while two younger children watched.

“Virgun? Wolfbite sent me to collect two dogs, I’ve got a bill of sale here.” I announced my self to him. The man turned to look at me, nodded, and whistled a long, sharp note, followed by two short ones. Six dogs ran out of the barn, they were also large, but not nearly the size of Karliene.

“Take your pick, they’re all able. The different colored collars are different blood lines, if you have an interest in raising a few yourself later on.” Virgun seemed disinterested. I picked the two dogs that were watching me the closest. Virgun hooked them up to my sled, and put Karliene in the lead. It seemed simple enough to mount the harnesses, but I had plenty to learn, so I watched carefully.

“They won’t scare, but they’re trained to avoid troll scent. If they start pulling away from where you want them to go, trust them. They can outrun a troll, even with a sled loaded a hundred pounds to a dog. Trolls tire out on the run.” Virgun advised.

“Understood, thanks for that. Anything else I should know?” I looked them over.

“Biter bites when he’s excited.” He pointed to the blue collared dog. I thanked him again, and we were off. If I had any luck at all, we’d come back with something.