Clark in Skyrim, A continued report from across the border. Options

[ghastley]

If mALX is back, then Clark should return too.

We left him in Evergloam at the beginning of the 4th Era, where Nocturnal had just inducted him and Minx as Nightingales, to join Dralsi. The two other members of the first trinity had been slain by Ogrim the Restless, who was the original occupant of the cave complex that became the Twilight Sepulchre.

He's about 225 years old now. Nocturnal and Azura made him immortal, rather than risk having to train a new one. He retired as a Nightingale some time ago, and went back into business managing brothels, and other enterprises that remain profitable in times of war. Much of the other intervening history should emerge as this unfolds.

-------------

Part 1 - Over the border

"So Gilda, have you been into Skyrim before?" Clark asked the young woman sitting next to him. Ahead of them, the horse plodded onward, pulling Clark's carriage along the road towards Helgen. He gave the reins a jiggle, but the horse's gait didn't change. It only knew slow and steady.

Gilda wasn't really paying attention. She was busy looking at the scenery, which is why Clark had asked. "Oh, what? No, I barely got a mile from our farm before now. Mother didn't like me wandering off; she was scared I'd run into bandits."

"Is that how your nose got broken?" Clark guessed.

"Yes, the one time I did get away, she turned out to be right. When the bandits found out I didn't have anything valuable, they ... well, you can imagine what they had in mind. I gave the first one who tried anything my knee, and he did that in return. The others didn't stop me when I ran off, they were too busy laughing at our discomfort."

"How long ago was that? It looks like it's been that way for a while."

"About five months, I think. One day was much like another at our farm, and I lost track of time. I can't thank you enough for getting me away from there."

Clark wasn't sure what had made him offer to take her with him. He did need a new apprentice, that was true, but why he'd suddenly decided it could be her was beyond him. It wasn't her looks, for certain. Apart from her nose, she had crooked teeth, and looked like she never ate anything. Her mother was the exact opposite, so it was clear where all the food went in that household. She was wearing one of her mother's hand-me-down dresses, which fit her like a sack.

But he'd stopped at the farm for directions when he left Bruma, and she'd caught his eye. Before he knew it, he'd told her mother she could have a good career as a merchant's apprentice, hinting that she might be able to send some of her earnings home.

And if she'd persuaded him to do that, she probably had some speech talent, so she might work out well. He'd need to heal her nose, and fix her teeth first, and that would need more magicka than he had. Once he got to Whiterun, he'd be able to use the Alchemy lab at his house to make some fortification potions, but until then he couldn't do anything.

"We'll be in Helgen before long," he told her. "It's just over there, where you can see the smoke rising..." Clark's voice trailed off, as he realised that there shouldn't be that much smoke. Something had apparently set part of the town on fire, if not all of it.

They soon met a ragged bunch of imperial soldiers coming the other way, telling of a dragon attack on the town. Clark didn't think there were any dragons in Tamriel.

"Nor did we, until that one swooped down on us," the legionary told him. "We were preparing an execution for Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his men, when it was interrupted by a blast of magic. Threw everyone around like dolls. We'd heard that Ulfric could use the Thu'um like that, so we had him gagged, but a beast that size doing it was something else entirely."

"General Tullius and the Thalmor Ambassador were there too," one of the other men put in. "We have no idea if they got out."

Nobody knew if it was safe to try passing through. There were trails to Falkreath that might be preferable, as long as you weren't hauling anything heavy.

"But watch out for bandits if you go that way," another soldier advised. "That applies any time you leave the main roads in Skyrim."

Clark had heard much the same from legionaries in Cyrodiil. In his opinion, the roads weren't any safer than any other route, just better paved. He let his horse continue down the road.

Helgen was deserted when they got there. Most of the population seemed to be lying dead in the streets, scorched by the dragon's breath. Anyone alive had presumably fled, and the dragon itself was nowhere around. Clark decided to continue down into Riverwood and let them know what had happened. If the dragon didn't attack there next, of course.

---

Riverwood was intact, but they'd seen the dragon fly over. Gerdur, the mill-owner, told Clark that her brother Ralof had escaped from Helgen, and she thought that Hadvar, the legionary from the town, had too. Ralof had brought a stranger with him, and she'd gone on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl.

Clark knew from his earlier trips that Ralof was a Stormcloak, and he asked Gerdur if he'd been one of the men the soldiers had mentioned as due for execution. Ralof hadn't mentioned that part, just that he'd escaped from the dragon. But now it made sense why Hadvar had been there at the same time. "I'll make sure Ralof stays well hidden," she told Clark.

She turned back to what she'd been doing when they arrived. "When the dragon flew over, I was so startled, I dropped this firewood I'd just split in the river. I was trying to dry it out with a flare spell, but it looks like I'll just have to split some more."

"There's an easier way, you know," Clark told her. He took one of the pieces of firewood and stood it on a stump. "Cast a frost spell on it," he told Gerdur. She did so, until Clark told her to stop. "Now dispel the ice"

Gerdur didn't know that spell, so Clark taught it to her. "Now try the flare."

The wood caught immediately, and she quickly dispelled the flames. "I hardly used any magicka doing that. It was a lot easier than the way I was trying."

"Right, especially as the frost comes easily to you. Here, I'll help you finish these."

"You make it look so easy," Gerdur told him. "Are you sure you're an Imperial, not a Breton?"

"It's all practice, not magicka reserves," he told her. "It looks easy because I'm using less magicka than you would. Just like you know how to roll a log instead of doing it the hard way by lifting. But some spells are beyond my normal reach. That's why I have to wait until I get to Whiterun before I can heal Gilda's nose."

Gerdur noticed Gilda for the first time. "I can help her with a good meal, and you too. I owe you for that firewood trick."

"I hoped you might. Cooking is where you show your skill."

---

"Looking at her, I expected she had no appetite," Gerdur whispered to Clark. "But she's on her third helping of the stew already."

Clark told Gerdur that he suspected her mother had been starving her. Whether that was to keep her thin, or just because the mother ate all the food, he didn't know, but the mother was really fat. "She didn't think enough of Gilda to get her teeth straightened, so I doubt she had any positive feelings for her."

"If Gilda eats like that all the time, she might take after her," Gerdur warned.

"I don't expect she will. I'll get Lydia to look after her, and she'll keep her fit, not fat."

Lydia was Clark's housecarl in Whiterun. She'd been part of the deal when Jarl Balgruuf made Clark a Thane of the city, for his services to its people. He'd forgotten what he'd done for them; nothing major, just a lot of small things that added up. And the Jarl had noticed his effect on the local economy. Even the Khajiiti caravan that camped outside the gates seemed to be more prosperous after Clark had arrived.

They'd be at his house, Breezehome, by the end of the day, if there weren't any problems on the road.

---

"Oh, It's you, Thane," the guard at the gate knew Clark, even if he didn't know the girl. "Is she with you? I have orders to keep strangers out, with dragons sighted in the area."

Clark vouched for Gilda, and the guard opened the gate for them.

"That's a new development," Clark remarked. "The only ones not allowed in before were the Khajiit traders. They have an unjustified reputation as thieves. Well, maybe it's partly justified, but they're not the worst. They just have a more sharing attitude to property than the Nords are accustomed to, and it's often misinterpreted."

---

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.

"That's not a nice thing to say," Clark admonished. "Even if that is a good description of her outfit. This is Gilda, my new apprentice, and we'll be exchanging that 'sack' for something better-fitting as soon as we can. She's about your height, so is there something in the wardrobe she can try on?"

"You know I only keep a few changes of armour. If you're looking for a dress, you're probably out of luck."

"Leather armour might be more comfortable, if it fits."

Gilda took a look in the wardrobe, but there weren't any dresses, and the leather was loose, even with the straps tightened all the way. She put the "sack" back on, and tied the string back around her waist.

"We have to go to Belethor's in the morning anyway. We'll find you something then. Come out to the back room while I brew up some potions, and then I'll see what I can do about your nose," Clark told her.

Lydia was already back at the cookpot, stirring up some food. She could see that the poor girl needed feeding, even if Clark couldn't.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Oct 2 2014, 07:52 PM

[ghastley]

Acadian: The mages' duel scene is standard Clark tactics. He'll keep them busy with futile attacks on him, while his partner finishes it. Gilda catches on fast, which is why she became his apprentice.

Yes, it was Abiene that started me down the road to comparing healing and necromancy. That, and building the back-story for Ulicetta, Mucianus Alias and Mariette Rielle in his Oblivion story. When I read Traven's Black Arts on Trial, I found myself agreeing with Ulicetta completely, and it was hard to believe that she was really a necromancer, so her story came out of those two components.

Grits: It's always been a problem to combine the instant full-spectrum healing of TES's magic with its apparent limitations (scars, blindness, etc.), so I've taken the approach that it depends on the knowledge of the caster. You can't heal what you don't know needs fixing. Sylgja was one of the loose ends the game leaves demanding resolution.

Swinging a pickaxe is clearly good for the pectoral muscles. I've noticed the same thing in Orc women who use big axes and hammers.

-----------------

Previously: Clark and Gilda had cleared the spiders from the mine at Shor's Stone, and finished healing Sylgja. Now they've reached Riften.

-----------------

Part 14 - Riften

"Later" was that night, in their room at the Bee and Barb in Riften. He told Gilda about the time Taminwe and Ocato gave him a new face. Gilda had enough trouble believing that Clark was really as old as he said. Lydia had told her that Clark was immortal, although she hadn't explained how, or why. That seemed possible, if you did a big favour for the right Divines or Daedric Princes. But now he was claiming that the Potentate of All Tamriel had been his personal physician?

"It wasn't like that. They had good reasons of their own for doing it, and it was their idea, not mine. Besides, Taminwe did all the face-changing, Ocato just helped out with the paralysis, because of the extra magicka it needed. They were both Altmer, so you can imagine what it took."

"And she made me look older, so I wasn't actually as old as I looked when becoming immortal stopped me aging. Yes, I'm older than I look, but not quite as much as it appears."

Gilda's head was starting to spin. "I'll probably regret asking, but tell me how the immortality thing happened."

"It was a joint decision by Azura and Nocturnal. They're sisters, as far as that applies to the Daedric Princes, with all the usual sibling rivalry balancing the closeness. When my good friend Minx became Guildmaster of the Cyrodiil Thieves Guild, Nocturnal summoned her to visit her realm of Evergloam for some tasks, and persuaded me to accompany her."

"I have an idea what it takes to persuade you," Gilda mused. "Are you saying that she..."

Clark nodded.

"I'm starting to feel inadequate. And you haven't got to Azura yet."

"Then I'd better stop, and reassure you, hadn't I?"

---

"So Nocturnal has a connection to the Thieves Guilds, right?" Gilda asked as they walked through Riften the next day.

"Yes, she usually recruits her Nightingales from their ranks. It seems that thieves are the best suited to the tasks she wants done. It's a matter of having the right skills."

"Is that why you want me to train with them? Because the skills are those that Nocturnal wants?"

"Not directly. Nocturnal recruited me, and I wasn't a guild member, and didn't have the sneaking and lock-picking skills. The ones I did have were useful for getting secrets a different way, by persuasion. I can teach you that part, but I can't teach the other. I've filled the gap with larcenous partners in the past, but I want you to be more of a well-rounded merchant."

"Yes, I know you like well-rounded. But do I really need to join the Thieves Guild to get training? You want me to be an honest, fair trader, don't you?"

"The Thieves Guild aren't the cut-throat rabble you probably think they are. They have rules, handed down from Nocturnal. They help the beggars, because they get information in return. And they're one path to becoming a Nightingale."

"Your daughter's one of those, isn't she?"

"Well she was the last time I saw her, which is quite a few years ago. Karliah was a member of the Guild here, but she disappeared a while ago, along with Gallus Desidenius, the Guildmaster at the time. Mercer Frey was the third Nightingale, and he took over as Guildmaster, and presumably still holds that position. If you can find out anything about Karliah, I'll be grateful."

Clark noticed Brynjolf at his stall in the marketplace, selling his Falmer-blood elixir. He took Gilda over and introduced her. She seemed to make a good impression, but there would still be a test before Gilda could join the Guild.

"Show me you can pick the lock on Madesi's strongbox, and put the ring you find in Brand-Shei's pocket. I'll provide the distraction, while you demonstrate your skills."

That seemed reasonable, and Gilda felt she had the ability to do that. The two traders weren't guild members, who'd be watchful for those tricks, and she half-expected her second test would be to put it back. She was rather surprised when a guard was summoned to arrest Brand-Shei.

Clark wasn't expecting that either. "You go with Brynjolf, and see what he wants next. I'm going to see what's going on with Brand-Shei."

---

Gilda walked into the bar at the Bee and Barb and joined Clark at his table. As Talen-Jei brought her a drink, she told Clark about her afternoon.

"First off, Brynjolf tells me to meet him down in the Ragged Flagon, at the back of the Ratway, and then leaves me to make my own way, while he goes in via the secret entrance I'm not allowed to use yet. That's apparently the next part of the test. I don't know if I was supposed to sneak past all the low-lifes who wanted to cut my throat, or deal with them permanently, but I ended up doing a bit of both. It's a real maze of tunnels down there, so I guess they were testing my navigation skills, too."

"And my next test is to collect loan repayments from some of the merchants. That's why Brand-Shei was the target today. He was late with his payment, and needed to be taught a lesson. I have to do the same for Haelga, Bersi Honey-Hand, ... and Keerava here."

"That matches the story I got about Brand-Shei. You don't have to get anyone else arrested," Clark pointed out. "Just persuade them to honour their debts. Reasonable people know what they owe."

"The way Brynjolf explained it, they don't feel like they do owe anything any more. Debts to the Thieves Guild don't count, aren't legal, or something." Gilda looked worried that she'd have to threaten them with violence, which just wasn't her way.

Talen-Jei was back at their table. Clark asked him if he knew that Keerava had borrowed from the Thieves Guild. He didn't, and looked alarmed; he didn't want any harm to happen to her. Clark didn't believe that the Guild would do her any harm, but Talen-Jei did. And it seemed that Keerava would, too. "Just tell her you know about her family in Morrowind," Talen-Jei told Gilda. "She'll be frightened, but at least she won't risk her own safety that way."

Clark shrugged. It wasn't a real threat, after all. He told Gilda to do that, if she thought it would be effective. She could make it seem like she was concerned for the family's well-being, too.

Gilda went up to the bar, to talk to the Argonian, and returned a couple of minutes later with a small purse of gold. "She paid, but I don't think she likes me."

"I have an idea how we can make it up to them," Clark offered. "Talen-Jei's been looking for some flawless amethysts to make an engagement ring. He wants to marry Keerava, and that's an important part of the rituals. I can get him the gems for that."

Gilda cheered up a little at that idea. But there were still Haelga and Bersi to deal with.

"Those can wait until tomorrow," Clark told her. "We'll think of something."

---

Clark had met Svana Far-Shield outside the Bunkhouse the previous day. She'd told him about her aunt's devotion to Dibella, and the shrine she had in her room. Clark wasn't sure if Svana was scandalised by Haelga's practice of the Dibellan arts, or the fact that she wasn't getting paid for it. He'd declined Svana's request to embarrass Haelga with proof of her promiscuity. Only three different men in a month sounded quite restrained to him, and he was sure Haelga felt the same.

Clark and Gilda went into the Bunkhouse to look around. Clark noticed a statue of Dibella, standing on a table in the corner. It was different from the ones he'd seen in Markarth, and he wondered if it had been made by the same people. He picked it up and looked for a maker's mark on the bottom.

"Be careful with that!" Haelga rushed over to make him put it down. Gilda noted her concern and asked her what she'd do if it got lost or damaged.

"I can't even think about that," the Nord replied. "That statue's really important to me."

"More important than paying back your loan?"

Haelga paled, adding two and two in her mind and getting worried. "Here's what I owe, now just leave."

---

Bersi Honey-hand had apparently heard that Gilda was collecting, and just paid up without any fuss. He looked very relieved to have done so. He was clearly concerned about something, but nobody had told Gilda what it was, and she really didn't care now. All that mattered was that she'd done what the Guild had asked her to do, and maybe now she'd be a full member, without anyone getting hurt.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Dec 18 2014, 01:30 PM