A Question of Fate Options

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Brief Intro By The Author

A Question of Fate would be the title of my piece.

I have been back and forth about trying to start and post a fan fic piece. The idea has always intrigued me, but I never considered myself to be a writer, let alone a good writer. I have read a sampling of some of the works that are posted on this site, and quite frankly, it is intimidating. The material is amazing. I must say say that despite the intimidation, it is also inspiring. So I am willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it. There are a few provisos. I work for a living. Often times, the hours I work are long. There may be periods of dormancy in this thread. I will apologize in advance for that. Life outside the internet does have it's restrictions. Also, I am sure that there is an unspoken etiquette that states, "You read mine and comment, and I shall do the same". This is also where I could run into trouble, for the same reasons that there may be dormant periods in this thread. There are stories on this site that I could never hope to read all the way through, with triple digit page counts, while I try to keep posting my own story and work through everyday life. So, with all that being said, I will wait to start posting chapters until I get a sense of what the audience demands. Please let me know if I should start posting a fan fic piece, based on what you have just read.

Thanks.

EDIT - This was originally posted in "General Discussion"

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 4 2013, 04:41 AM

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

It's that time again campers, but first...

@ Acadian - Looking like a Bosmer, and being raised by one, Val definitely does have "Bosmer Pride". But he cannot deny his inner Nord, which is one of the things that has drawn him to Skyrim, and this will...well...that's for another day.

Checking the stomach of a wolf is an interesting (and messy) place to check for loot, but it seems there’s no arguing with Val’s profitable results!
This was my way of explaining how you sometimes find jewelry or coins when you "Search Wolf" in game. It was the most plausible explanation I could come up with.

@ SubRosa - You actually pointed out to me that we, as authors, can really do what whatever we want with our story, when it comes to making changes in the way the game actually plays versus what we want to write. I thank you very much for that , because it led directly to this -

“It is said that the stones choose you," the Nord explained, "In some way, it will connect with your spirit. It is imbued with an ancient power. None today completely understand it. The one you see most clearly is the one that is trying to connect with you.”
I love Ralof's explanation of how the Stones choose you, rather than the other way around.

I am so glad you liked that. I fought with myself more than you can imagine over whether to go that route.

And yes...fate will be key to Val's future...

@ jack cloudy - Welcome back

And speaking of bottles, his priorities are very clear throughout. Life first, then booze, then everything else.
Val does indeed like living long enough to get his next drink.

I did like the background segment. At first I'd pegged Erik for the father in blood, but it turned out he was the spiritual one. I assume he died on that bodyguard job.
I'm glad you enjoyed the interlude. It is the first of several that will answer "why" and "how" questions about Val.

Heartfelt thanks to all of you for continuing to follow Valrimor and for your very kind comments. Now, let's press onward...

Previously - Val and Ralof have been on the road northward from Helgen to Riverwood after their escape from the dragon attack, and had just finished skinning a couple of wolves…

Chapter 7 – Riverwood

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

My companion was accurate when he had said we were very close. Less than an hour’s walk found us rounding a bend to see the town of Riverwood. It was a small town indeed. In fact, the word “town” was probably too grand a title. It was certainly much smaller than Helgen had been. As we entered the hamlet, I noticed there was no gate. What I had thought was a wall surrounding the settlement was merely a thick bulwark with a covered walkway atop it. There were no towers or keep. The architectural style of the buildings was similar to Helgen, with walls of native stone and wood that were topped by steep thatched roofs. The smell of cooking food had entangled itself in tendrils of chimney smoke and caused my stomach to growl. Ralof turned left immediately, saying his sister was probably at the lumber mill. There was an old woman sitting on a porch trying to tell her son that she had seen a dragon. He didn’t believe her, of course.

Little did he know…

The lumber mill was situated on a small island in the river, which had widened and slowed here. The current was still strong enough to push the mill’s waterwheel with ease, allowing the band saw to turn logs into lumber. We rounded the corner to go behind the mill’s main building and found Ralof’s sister standing there. She had her back to us and was rubbing the small of it with hands clad in heavy leather work gloves, as though it may have pained her. She turned to face us when Ralof called her name. What may have once been heart-stopping beauty had given way to years of working a lumber mill, but she was still a pretty woman.

“Brother! Mara’s mercy, it’s good to see you! But is it safe for you to be here? We’ve heard news that Ulfric had been captured.”

“He was…we were…it’s a long story. Can we sit and talk somewhere?” Ralof asked.

“Of course,” she said, and then yelled up to the mill, “Hod! Come down here. I need you for a minute.”

“What is it woman? Sven drunk on the job again?” answered a faceless voice from above.

“Hod, just come here!”

“Ralof!” exclaimed a burly fellow from up at the band saw, “What are you doing here? I’ll be right down!”

The three of us continued walking over to some large tree stumps. Ralof sat on one and I followed his example on another. Gerdur stood facing us with her hands resting on her hips. I resisted the urge to tell her she had a rather large smudge of grime on her face.

“So who is this with you?” she asked, nodding in my direction, “One of your comrades?”

“Not a comrade yet, but he is a friend. I might not be here if not for him.”

“The reverse is closer to the truth,” I interjected, “Your brother has no small part in my ability to meet you here today.”

Just then, a boy ran up with a shaggy dog close at his heels. “Uncle Ralof!” the boy beamed, and then peppered the Nord with rapid-fire questions, “Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?”

“Hush, Frodnar! Let your uncle rest. I want you to go watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperials coming,” Gerdur said to the boy in the tone that mothers so often use.

“Look at you, almost a grown man. It won’t be long and you’ll be ready to join the fight. Now be a good soldier and do as your mother tells you,” Uncle Ralof added.

With that, Frodnar gave a stern military salute, and then assured us all that no Imperials would sneak up on us during his watch. He did an about face and ran to the south gate. The dog chased after him, barking support. None of us could suppress chuckles and grins. The burly man from up at the saw joined us then. I assumed it must be Hod.

“Now, Ralof, what’s going on? You two look about done in,” he said.

“I can’t recall the last time I slept,” Ralof began, “The news you heard about Ulfric was true. We were camped near Darkwater Crossing when we were ambushed by Imperials. It was like they knew exactly where we would be. That was…two days ago. The battle was short and we were not victorious. Those of us that survived the skirmish were bound and taken to Helgen this morning. That’s when I met Valrimor here. The Imperials had captured him as well. They must have thought he was with our camp. I thought it was all over for us, Gerdur. They had us lined up for the headsman’s block and ready to start chopping.”

“The cowards,” Gerdur spat with disgust.

“They wouldn’t dare give Ulfric a fair trial,” Ralof explained, “Easier to take his head than try him for treason. A trial would have shown the real truth to all of Skyrim. Anyway, the headsman had already sent one of our comrades to Sovngarde when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a dragon attacked!”

“You don’t mean a real, live-” Gerdur started to ask in disbelief.

“I know,” Ralof continued, “I’m still having a hard time believing it myself. But it’s true. There is a dragon on the loose in the mountains. As strange as it sounds, that dragon is the reason we are alive now. Valrimor and I managed to slip away during the attack.”

“I wouldn’t call it slipping away,” I added, “Your brother and I got separated and had to dodge the dragon’s attacks until we met up again, then it was one skirmish after another as we made our way to freedom from the underneath of the town.”

Ralof nodded in agreement, and then asked, “Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?”

“No one else has come up the south road today, as far as I know,” Gerdur replied.

“Good. Maybe we can lay up here for a while. I hate to put your family in danger, but-”

“Speak of it no more, Ralof. You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need to. Let me worry about the Imperials,” said Gerdur. She turned to me and continued, “Valrimor, any friend of Ralof’s is a friend of mine. Take this spare key to the house. You are welcome to whatever you may need, within reason. Stay as long as you like. There is one favor you can do for us though. Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun needs to know of this. With a dragon on the loose, the Jarl will need to send defenses to Riverwood. We have no guards of our own. If you would do this, I would be in your debt.”

I placed the key in my breast pocket and gave a slight bow toward our new hostess.

“Thank you, Gerdur,” I replied, “I can do as you ask, but I must rest a bit first, and I’ll need provisions for the journey. I can work for them. I don’t expect you or your family to give me anything."

“I’ll go let them in the house and help them get settled in,” Hod said.

“Help them drink all our mead, you mean,” Gerdur retorted. My ears perked at the mention of mead. Then she continued, “I have to finish up some work here. I’ll see you all at the house.”

With that, Ralof and I stood. He thanked and hugged his sister before we started for the house. When we reached the roadway that divided the settlement, I paused and looked up and down the road. There was an inn called The Sleeping Giant, and a trading post on one side of the road. A blacksmith was located on the other side. Another road headed east out of town, and this was the way Hod and Ralof were presently walking. I quickly rejoined them, ready for the taste of mead to wash over my thirsty lips.