“What’s your business in the city?” A stern faced guard asked. His eyes were wandering over the troll head, and the very obvious corpse tied to the dog sled. Jurger had smartly dispelled his familiar before we made it into town, citing the fact that the locals didn’t do well upon seeing ghost dogs. We made for a funny sight, pushing the sled through slushy muck up to the gate.
“Looking for a warm bed, and hopefully some pay for the troll we killed on the road. It took down this man here before we could help him, but we got his vengeance.” I did the talking. The guard looked at the head, and then pulled back the tarp we’d put the dead soldier into. He paused looking at him.
“That’s Olam, Galteir’s son. He left two weeks ago. Where did he die? How long ago?” One of the other guards turned to ask questions. He looked at me first.
“South of the pass we came through, I don’t know the name of it. It took us five days to drag the sled here, through the pass. Two days, maybe three days marching to get there.” I looked to Jurger.
“Ten days ago, we saw him attacked by the troll. My friend here is a tracker of sorts, he was able to figure out where the troll lived. We took some time to prepare ourselves for the journey.” He added helpfully. Helpful unless they asked me questions about how I’d tracked it. They didn’t seem interested in that though.
“We’ll have the body taken to the hall of the dead. My man Rolvar here will take you to the Jarl. He has need of skilled hunters, and he’ll reward you for the troll. Go, quickly now. I will make sure that no one tampers with your belongings.” The stern faced guard waved us through and had the others pull our sled off the road. I took the troll head by an ear, before a guard offered a large sack. My ruck was on one shoulder, the troll sack on the other. Winterhold was a dreary, run down place. Many of the buildings looked like they were barely standing up, with cracks running through the foundations and other major damage evident.
There was something tickling the back of my mind, not just the evidence of a once fine city, but knowledge of a past experience. Magic had done this, or an earthquake that had something to do with magic. The town wasn’t very large, a few streets, a handful of run down shops, and an overfull tavern. I got a glimpse of the large castle we’d seen from far off, a lonely structure standing away from the broken settlement.
“This way outsider, the Jarl’s longhouse is just up the street. You’d be best off to show the proper respect, or you’ll answer to my axe.” The guard warned us. The longhouse was the only somewhat decent structure in town I’d seen. It looked like it had been built after whatever catastrophe happened, lacking the damage present in all the others.
“Of course, I wouldn’t think to show anything else but respect.” I nodded to the guard as we made our way to the door. A well armored man stood there, eyes appraising.
“Who’s this you’ve brought to the Jarl?” The man asked, paying especially close attention to Jurger. It looked like he’d recognized him in a passing way.
“Two outsiders, they’ve slain a troll that killed Galteir’s son. Don’t spread the word just yet, we ought to have the priest tell him.” Rolvar spoke quietly. The better equipped guard nodded, a solemn expression on his features.
“I warned Olam not to leave on his own. He was a good man. Go on, the Jarl has just finished with his court meeting.” The man opened the door, and ushered us through. A gust of warm air washed over my face, as well as the smells of roasted meat and vegetables. Rolvar strode right up to the Jarl, waving us to stand back.
“Jarl Korir, I bring before you two outsiders who have slain a troll. The troll killed Olam, son of Galteir.” The guard bowed his head and stepped back. The Jarl had been eating what looked to be a fine meal for the standards of the town.
“Present yourselves, outsiders.” He gestured with a free hand for us to come forwards.
“Jarl Korir, I am Johannes.” I imitated the bow I’d seen the guard make.
“And I am Jurger, of Windhelm.” There was a slight tone of irritation to Jurger’s voice, hopefully the Jarl didn’t notice.
“Do you have proof of your claim, Johannes?” Korir seemed a bit more interested now, he was also sizing up Jurger, much the same as the man outside had. I opened the sack bag so that the troll head was visible.
“My! That is quite the proof. How do we know it was Olam? Rolvar?” He turned to the guard.
“They returned the body to us. He was mangled badly, it was a troll that killed him, most certainly Jarl. They journeyed for five days by dog sled, with no dogs, to present it to us.” The guards voice was a mix of bitter anger for the troll and respect to us.
“A dog sled with no dogs? Quite the task to take for a stranger. You're a good man Johannes, and perhaps what I’ve heard of Jurger is just uncouth rumor. You’re welcome in my hall, you must be hungry after such a great effort. Come, sit at my table, take off your cloaks and warm yourselves by the hearth.” He pointed to two empty chairs near the fireplace. We found our places, a young servant girl came by to take our cloaks.
“Jarl Korir, thank you for your generosity. There is one more thing about Olam. I wasn’t sure if we would be able to get back with him, so I took these to identify him.” I pulled the necklace from under my armor, offered it across the table, and very, very slowly, lifted the mace out, and handed it to him grip first.
“This mace, it bears the mark of the Winterhold armories. Rolvar, did Olam take a mace when he joined the guard?” Korir asked.
“Yes Jarl, he was quite the fighter with it.” Rolvar looked at the weapon.
“Keep it Johannes, as a sign of our gratitude. You’ll be needing pay for the troll as well. Malur! Go fetch a purse of three hundred pieces.” The Jarl handed the mace back as he yelled over his shoulder.
“Thank you Jarl Korir, that is very generous.” The servant girl came back with two plates of food and three tankards. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was till my stomach roared.
“Generosity matched by the honor of a strong Nord arm! And the axe it holds!” Jarl Korir raised a tankard and took a long draw, it seemed best to reflect that. The mead was excellent, as was the food. We ate in silence, well, wordlessly is the more apt description. The meal was goat, buttered bread, fried potatoes, and some sort of green vegetable. Once I’d finished with my plate, the Jarl spoke again after turning from Rolvar. The two had carried on a quiet conversation.
“Hearty appetite. Tell me Johannes, how did you defeat the troll? A great beast must have a great tale.”
“It had been stalking us for a while, we didn’t know it was there until it struck. At the crest of the mountain pass to the south, we were struggling with the sled. Jurger was trying to find a way for us to pull it up using the rocks when the troll rose up from a boulder. I shouted to him, and he leapt away. Jurger’s a quick one when he needs to be. The problem was that we’d tied Jurger to the sled, and the troll took up the rope!” I looked to Jurger and smiled. He wasn’t amused.
“So Jurger is dangling like a fish on a hook as the troll is pulling him back up, I ran forward and cut him loose. The troll wasn’t the sharpest, and kept fooling around with the rope for a moment. I tried to distract it away, so that we could get it to come down between us. That didn’t work. It hid in the rocks again, and tried a different angle. Jurger and I waited for the beast to attack again…” I finished through the rest of the story, regaling him with our exploits.
“I hadn’t heard you were a war mage, Jurger. I thought you’d spent more time with corpses. It was you and quite a group of others that were disciplined, was it not?” A voice came from behind us, it was the armored guard. The Jarl grinned, like a wolf with cornered prey.
“I left the College of my own accord. I’m not one of the scum like Milek or his ilk.” Jurger’s voice wasn’t angry, it was outraged. I’d obviously just walked straight into the Jarl’s trap.
“All the same, a convenient time to leave. There have been reports of dead men rising, skeletons attacking farmsteads, dark magic in deep caves. Tell me Johannes, and tell it truthfully or you will share his punishment. How did you come to know Jurger?” The Jarl asked.
“He saved me from the blizzard. I was wandering in the ice, snowblind and freezing to death. I collapsed and woke up in a cave, near a fire. I’d have died if he hadn’t gotten me to shelter. I may have twisted the truth when I spoke of finding Olam. He was already dead by the time I’d seen him, Jurger had tried to save him from the troll, at least that is what he told me. The wounds seemed to match what a troll would do.” I didn’t lie, I had woken up near to a fire, and Jurger had indirectly gotten me out of the storm. It was a fine line to walk.
“He speaks true of the troll wounds, Jarl. I saw them.” Rolvar spoke up.
“And what was Jurger doing in that cave, when you woke?”
“Sorry Jurger, but I’m not getting dragged down with you.” I looked to the mage. He had a knowing anger in his eyes. The necromancer stayed silent.
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“He was experimenting with bodies. I didn’t see any evidence that he had killed anyone to do it, but he was scavenging those corpses that fell to nature. He had a servant, a man named Bonin, that he claims had been killed by an Ice Wraith. The corpse’s arm was mangled horribly, but it’d been too long, and too cold to tell if the frostbite was from an attack. I think he meant to use Olam’s body as his next subject. I wouldn’t let him, and told him that I’d have his head if he tried. That corpse Bonin clubbed me over the head, I haven’t been able to remember much of who I am since then.” That was the first self serving lie I’d told. The clubbing hadn’t helped, but I didn’t remember much either way. The Jarl looked on expectantly.
“I took Olam’s mace from his body, and destroyed the undead, then I beat Jurger here into the ground. I had tied him up and intended to turn him in for a bounty, but he saved my life when we fought the troll, as I told you. Neither one of us would have been able to best the beast by ourselves. For that, I cut him loose. I didn’t know that he was a wanted man here, Jarl.” It felt like an eternity before anyone spoke. It was the Jarl that went first.
“A life for a life, it was his bad luck he came back here. Do you have proof of his experiments?” The Jarl eyed my ruck. Jurger finally broke.
“The dimwitted bastard burned my entire library. All of my notes, my tomes, months of work! And now he’s my headsman, you were right Johannes! If I’d had an ounce of sense I would have cut your neck!” Jurger stood, knife from the meal in his right hand. It was an exceedingly dumb thing for him to do, surrounded by guards as he was. I still had my iron plated gauntlets on too. Jurger slashed for my face, the knife skipped off my forearm. Long honed instinct took over. My left hand slid down to his elbow to pin it, while an armored elbow of my own broke his nose.
Jurger wasn’t a runt, but I was heavier than he was by a fair margin, especially in my armor. I’d gotten to my feet with the strike, and forced Jurger down to the table. I got two punches into him before Rolvar had grabbed his other arm, pinning him down. He kicked and squirmed for a moment, trying to get a limb free. The Jarl’s personal guard, housecarl, that was the word, was close at hand, and grabbed the legs.
“Pull him off! Now!” The housecarl yanked him from the table, Rolvar and I both dropped our weight into the shrieking necromancer as he fell. Something cracked when he hit the stone floor, probably a rib. Two more guards were running form the doors, axes drawn.
“Drop the knife or lose the hand!” one of them demanded. We were beyond words now, one good stomp led to a crunch, a howl, and a clatter as the knife went spinning under the table. Rolvar was beating the brakes off Jurger with a gauntleted fist. Blood sprayed across my face as he managed a straight jab to the mouth.
“Flip him over. Tolin, manacles. Is he conscious?” The housecarl asked. I kicked the necromancer in the ribs, there wasn’t much of a pain response, but he was breathing.
“If he is, he’s got no fight left in him.” I took a step back, careful to keep my hands away from my weapons.
“Take the mage to the cellar. Jarl, what of this one?” All eyes were on me now.
“My question, Johannes. Do you have proof of his crimes?” The Jarl asked again.
“Yes, in my bag. I took his notes and journal, he didn’t know I still had them. I let him think that all of it burned. It seemed like a bad idea to read things about dark magic, so I don’t know what they say.” I reached for the bag under the table carefully, and took the bundle I’d tied together.
“Rolvar, send for Master Mirabelle, she may be a witch, but she was most useful dealing with those corpse defilers last year. She will be able to determine what these notes are. As for you Johannes, you seem to be a capable man. You fought a troll, you’ve apprehended a threat to my people, and you protected the honor of one of my sworn soldiers in bringing his body back. What would you have of me for these services?” The Jarl had a scheming look in his eyes, maybe that was too nefarious a word.
“Jarl, I don’t think it is my place to ask for anything more. Bringing back Olam’s body was the right thing to do, and I didn’t exactly bring this one in chains, like I’d planned originally. The bounty for the troll, and a meal was more than fair.” I was tip toeing, it would be an easy thing to wind up in jail next to the necromancer.
“Nonsense, It was no easy thing to bring Olam back to us, regardless of your intention for doing it. You’ve also brought me a known necromancer, when I’ve received no less than four notices of missing people in my hold. These deeds deserve a reward. I have gold, I have weapons, I have horses and hounds, I have empty beds in my barracks, and I have a place in my hold for any brave man that would fight against the dead and their masters.” The Jarl was insistent. He didn’t explicitly mention that his hold seemed to have gone to shit lately, but he didn’t need to.
“A replacement or repair of my armor, a hound, and a place to rest for some time would suit me, Jarl.” I took my choices. The dent in my breastplate was uncomfortable to say the least. The Jarl paused for a moment, nodded, and looked to his housecarl.
“Jorman, see to it that this man gets a piece that won’t buckle to a troll, and a fine hound from my pack. The barracks rooms are just there Johannes, I believe the one on the left is empty. You’ll be housed and fed until the end of the month, or longer, if you so chose. I have to attend this business with Mirabelle.” The Jarl turned on his heel, followed by two guards, one had taken the journals from me. He turned almost as abruptly back to me. “The dog sled you brought along with you, that is yours, along with any other possessions of the criminal.”
“Come on Johannes, let’s check the armory for something that fits you. You prefer plate?” The housecarl, Jorman, asked.
“The sturdier the better. This old iron didn’t do much for me.” He led me down a hall near the barracks, and into a room cramped with chests, racks, and practice dummies.
“Iron’s too soft. One good swing and it’ll have a dent that can’t be fixed, permanently ruined. We’ve got some older steel, but the men do a good job maintaining it. Here we go, try this on.” He handed me a vest with large steel plates sewn on, there were a few small rust spots, but all together it was a fine piece. The steel was thicker than my iron was too. It fit well enough, so did the shoulder pauldrons that Jorman added. My old armor was sent off to the room I’d been given.
“That armor will hold against a troll, but you’d be best off not getting hit by the damned things. Your axe could use time with a grindstone.” Jorman looked over my shoulder to the blade, it was tied back to my ruck.
“Where would I find one?” I asked, it didn’t seem like they had a bench or a wheel in the armory.
“Out in the yard. We’re going to head to the Jarl’s stable, his prize hounds had a litter two years ago, they’ve just about finished training those pups.” Jorman led the way to the back of the Jarl’s house. The yard was enclosed with a wooden palisade, a stable made up part of the wall, there were dogs running about, soldiers training, and a horse was being shoed.
“Houndmaster! We’ve got a dog to pay out today!” Jorman bellowed. An older man, arms and hands covered in bite scars, came out from the stable.
“Just in time, I was going to tell the Jarl that they’re ready for real work. Who’s this?” He pointed a gnarled finger at me.
“Johannes, he’ll be staying in the barracks for a while. Brought in one of those damned black mages. The mage had Olam’s body.” The Houndmaster’s face softened, and then hardened.
“No! He’s dead? I trained that boy with the dogs since he was barely higher than a wagon wheel!” It seemed that Olam was well liked.
“I’m sorry to bring bad news.” I tried to be sympathetic.
“Not all bad, you got the bastard that killed him though?” The old man’s eyes spoke of blood lust.
“A troll killed him, the black mage just scavenged the body. The Jarl is taking some notes to the College, we’ll have the mage’s head before nightfall. Johannes did a fine job bringing him in.” Jorman patted my shoulder. It still didn’t feel quite right, being credited with the capture. It hadn’t been my intent, not after the fight with the troll.
“Glad to have you son, I’m Alan, most people just call me Wolfbite on account of the arms. Come on, I’ll show you the dogs.” He brought us back to the stable, it was divided into two parts. One for horses, and one for the dogs. There were four of them, with leather harnesses bearing the same sigil as the Jarl’s men wore.
“We’ve got Icefoot, Torgis, Siga, and Karliene. All of them are fine beasts, trained them my self since the day they opened their eyes. Their parents are sharp ones too. Never discount the parents when you’re training up a war hound, they’ll help you.” Alan introduced the animals. They weren’t dogs, they were full on wolves with white coats, black markings on their faces. Two of them came up to us, happy smiles full of sharp teeth.
“Siga and Torgis are the friendliest with me, Karliene and Icefoot are more cautious. Down girl, down.” Siga leapt up to lick at his face. They didn’t seem like war hounds to me, not with how eager they were for scratches behind the ears. The other female, Karliene, was looking at me from a straw bed. I made eye contact with her, and wondered just how strong the dogs were. An infernal window appeared.
[Trained Ice Wolf, Karliene]
[Level: 12]
[Health: 150/150 Stamina: 250/250 Magicka: 0/0]
I blinked the window away, more memories swirling in the back of my head. I couldn’t put it off forever, but the windows could wait until tonight. I’d have to figure it out sooner or later. Karliene rose, and slowly came forwards. Her careful eyes tracked over me, her nose sniffed around at my hand, before she stood up to look at me on the eye level. These really were huge animals.
“I think she likes you, give her a rub.” Alan suggested. I did, the big dog leaned into me, paws on my shoulders before her back leg started kicking. The dog nearly fell over, but recovered with an excited spin.
“Never seen one of these hounds so sure it liked someone that quick. Karliene picks you Johannes. She’s the best of the litter, with a nose for trouble too. Maybe that’s why she likes you.” Alan laughed, the dogs seemed to have washed away the anger he had before. Another window dinged.
[Alert: An animal companion would like to join your Party.]
[Description: Though the choice of dog was meant to be yours, Karliene has taken a liking to you. She will follow you wherever you go.]
[Y/N?]
I blinked a yes in my head, and Karliene let out a long howl of excitement. Did the dog have these damnable windows too? Or maybe a magic bond? Whatever it was, it had made her quite happy.
“Easy girl, easy, I’m already sore from the last beast I tangled with.” I got a hold of the dog and rubbed her around the neck to stop the jumping. Karliene contented herself to sit at my feet and get patted.
“Divines sent you and that dog here for a reason, must have. Take good care of her or you’ll answer to me before you answer to them.” Alan warned as he gave Karliene a stroke on the head.
“Always loved a good dog, she’ll be in good hands. I’ll be staying for a while, so you haven’t lost her quite yet. I doubt the Jarl would appreciate dog tracks all over his stone floors.” A good dog was an excellent addition to my meager belongings.
“Just come by when you need her.” Alan waved us off. Karliene looked a bit disappointed to not be taken on an immediate adventure.
“Don’t worry girl, I’m off to find work for the both of us next.” I gave her one last scratch.
“There’s plenty work to go around. We’re settled on your payment now, if you need a place to store the sled, you can put it by the boxes in the yard. I’ve got to find the Jarl now, but we’ve some things to talk about after you’ve rested.” Jorman left me to my own devices. It was still early afternoon, so I settled for getting my new living arrangements together through the rest of the day.