A Wood Elf in Windhelm, Stranger in a Strange Land? Options

[haute ecole rider]

@Grits: Believe me, Lili has already considered aaaalllll the ways she can get Sten out of his armor! And yes, she knows to give credit where credit's due.

@Acadian: A Nord and a wood elf? Same way a St. Bernard and a mini poodle do it! Where there's a will (and desire) there's always a way! Thanks for calling out the little tags I use to keep the dialogue interesting. As for the nit you pointed out, I double checked with Lili and her response was "That's what I said, not what I should've said!" So I think we both can agree to leave that phrasing alone, as it is uniquely Lil's

@treydog: I had a lot of fun picturing how a wood elf from Valenwood would respond to the bitter cold and rugged environment of Skyrim. Yes, she's done a bit of traveling (Valenwood - Elsweyr - Black Marsh - Morrowind), but has never encountered anything quite like this! Brrrr! And world building is something I really enjoy doing, just not as an info dump, but more as a natural exploration/finding out about things from those who live there. Having Lili be new to Skyrim is a great way to accomplish this, as she would ask questions natives would never think to ask!

@SubRosa: Shenanigans will ensue, but just not quite in the way we are thinking at the moment! That will come later . . . And yes, everything is so different to Lili - even the trees!

@Renee: I'm glad you are enjoying things in Skyrim with Lili. I always imagined Bosmer as being less dependent on their vision and more dependent on smell and hearing in their jungle environment - the sight lines are horrible compared to say the open tundra around Whiterun or the grand vistas in Anequina. Hence her near sightedness. No rowboat mods - I use my imagination a lot here. Cairns, rowboats, raft building, etc - all those are from my imagination. When I was playing Oblivion, I hated those clock mods - they always felt so lore - UNfriendly to the medieval environment of Cyrodiil. So I got to thinking how did they tell time in those days? Then I realized in Europe at least, they used church bells to sound out the hours of prayer - matins, vespers, compline, etc. Since every town in Cyrodiil has a church/cathedral, and they sounded the bells hourly, I just felt it was natural to use that as a way to mark time. And since Skyrim follows Oblivion, I kept some of the Oblivion stuff here. As for DarkFox, I have nothing but good to say about his mods - all the ones I've used work very well.


*****************
Morndas 18 Last Seed - Terms for Future Engagement

Well, I�€™m going to try and squeeze a little bit more into this last bit of parchment. The bounty for the wreck was one thousand drakes. One thousand! Even with the usual split that�€™s going to be a nice chunk of coin to send home as soon as I visit the courier�€™s in the morning. And I can finally get this armor repaired like new. I�€™m looking forward to seeing Oengul again - he�€™s a good smith and honest.

Not only that, but I learned a few new things about wearing and taking care of heavy armor. Maybe it�€™s time to start saving for a good set of steel armor. And best of all, Lilisfina wants to hire me again for future jobs - might bring in even more coin if they�€™re anything like this bounty job. Don�€™t get your hopes up just yet - we�€™ve got to figure some things out first.
I�€™m going to sign off now so I can get these coins off to you tomorrow. Give my love to Halla and Old Fang. I�€™ll write again when I get the chance.

Sten

Star flopped down on the rug beside the bed as Lilisfina dropped the heavy bag on the square table. She pulled it closer to the bed and waved Sten to the chair. �€œLet�€™s get this counted out shall we?�€� she seated herself tailor fashion on the bed and dumped the silver coins over the surface of the table. �€œStacks of ten?�€�

Sten drew the chair up to the table and seated himself. �€œTo start,�€� he cast his gaze over the numerous coins. �€œBut it�€™s a thousand drakes. That�€™s what, one hundred stacks?�€�

�€œHmm, let�€™s count the first hundred,�€� Lilisfina matched actions to words as she started making stacks. �€œWe�€™ll divide that between us, then count out the second hundred.�€� She paused in her counting as Sten picked up a handful of coins. �€œDo you have a coin bag of your own, Stennvar?�€�

�€œYes,�€� not sure if it�€™s big enough though. �€œWonder why the Jarl paid in drakes, not septims? Would be easier to count out ten coins instead of a thousand.�€�

Lilisfina shrugged. �€œWho knows the mind of kings? Or Jarls?�€� She grinned up at him. �€œPerhaps not enough gold in his coffers.�€�

That�€™s a good point. �€œThat�€™s likely, ma�€™am,�€� Sten resumed his counting. �€œThis Stormcloak uprising of his isn�€™t easy to maintain.�€� He caught Lilisfina�€™s curious glance at him.

�€œUprising?�€� She leaned back a moment. �€œWhat�€™s that about?"

�€œYou mentioned the Thalmor earlier,�€� Sten resumed his counting. �€œThey�€™re here in Skyrim, trying to wipe out Talos worshippers.�€�

�€œThat�€™s right, the White Gold Concordat,�€� Lilisfina nodded. �€œAnd Jarl Stormcloak is resisting the Thalmor and trying to preserve Talos worship?�€�

Sten leaned back and regarded the ten tidy stacks of drakes between them. �€œYes, ever since the Markarth Incident.�€� He watched as Lilisfina pushed five stacks toward him and slid the other five into her coin bag. Wait. That�€™s not the usual split. He caught her curious glance at him. �€œHe went to Solitude last spring and killed the High King Torygg in front of his court in defiance of Thalmor rule.�€�

Lilisfina�€™s eyes widened at his words. �€œHe murdered the High King? That took some balls. Either he�€™s foolish or foolhardy.�€�

�€œRumor has it he challenged the High King to a duel, then Shouted him to death.�€�

Lilisfina�€™s gaze sharpened. �€œShouted him to death? Just what do you mean by that?�€�

Sten searched his memory for old tales told at an elder�€™s hearth years ago. �€œWith the thu�€™um, the Voice in the Dragon Tongue,�€� I hope I am making sense. �€œIt takes years of training and study to master the Shouts. Before he became Jarl, before the Markarth Incident, Ulfric Stormcloak studied with the Greybeards.�€�

Lilisfina leaned back again and watched Sten collect his five stacks of drakes into his coin bag. �€œDragons again,�€� she mused. �€œThat�€™s interesting.�€�

�€œYou did mention a Dragon cult in Elsweyr earlier,�€� Stenvar started counting again from the pile of silver coins. �€œAre you familiar with Dragons?�€�

�€œOnly from the tales the Khajiit told,�€� Lilisfina joined in the counting. �€œApparently Dragons have appeared in Elsweyr at times, though none have been seen since the Second Era.�€� In short order the two had ten more stacks counted, and again Lilisfina pushed five stacks toward Sten and kept five for herself.

That again. This isn�€™t going to be the typical split, is it? Sten met Lilisfina�€™s gaze as he slid the coins into his bag. �€œIs this how you want to do the split, ma�€™am?�€�

�€œWhat�€™s wrong? I did say we would split the bounty, didn�€™t I?�€�

�€œTypically the employer keeps sixty to seventy out of every hundred drakes,�€� Sten explained. �€œI thought that�€™s what you meant?�€�

Lilisfina straightened up. �€œI�€™ve never done it that way,�€� she set her fists on her hips in mock indignation. �€œI�€™ve always paid my hirelings fifty to fifty.�€� She smiled at Sten. �€œOh yes, I�€™ve had sellswords like you working with me on the tough jobs. How do you think I paid my way around Tamriel to get here?�€�

Sten shrugged. �€œI thought mages, alchemists and healers usually barter their services.�€�

�€œI do that too,�€� Lilisfina responded. �€œBut somehow paying my sellswords in coin feels more appropriate for the risks they take in providing their services.�€� She aimed her finger at him. �€œRisks you took.�€�

�€œNo complaints here,�€� Sten returned to counting more coins. Lilisfina joined him in making the pile of loose coins smaller.

�€œHow do you normally get paid, Stennvar? By the job, or by periods of time?�€�

�€œBy the job,�€� Sten set up another stack. �€œIt�€™s how folks want to hire sellswords these days. If one wants long term muscle, there�€™s retainers, guards and carls.�€�

�€œCarls?�€� Lilisfina repeated.

�€œYou could call them bodyguards, I suppose,�€� Sten explained. �€œThey enter service freely, and swear to protect their Jarl or Thane with their lives.�€�

�€œI see,�€� Lilisfina nodded to herself. �€œAnd they don�€™t get paid as well as a sellsword, say?�€�

�€œWell, it�€™s a steady employment, they get housing, board and gear provided by their masters,�€� Sten responded. �€œGear is usually a bit better than a guard�€™s, and they stay with their master at all times.�€�

�€œSo why are you a sellsword, instead of serving one of these Jarls or Thanes?�€�

�€œI�€™d like to have a bit more freedom in my choices of whom I hire out to,�€� Sten watched Lilisfina split the next ten stacks between them. �€œI don�€™t want to be stuck doing things that go against my grain, so to speak.�€� He shook his head. �€œCan�€™t do that once you�€™re a carl.�€�

Lilisfina fell silent as they kept counting. Sten wondered at her thoughts. She�€™s thinking over everything we talked about. Sure asked a lot of questions - she seems eager to learn as much as she can about Skyrim.

Finally they reached the last hundred drakes. Sten looked up to see Lilisfina�€™s thoughtful gaze on him. He stilled his hands and waited.

�€œHow do you feel about long term employment, Stennvar?�€� Lilisfina took a deep breath. �€œWith me?�€�

With her? Long term? �€œHow long are you thinking?�€�

�€œWell, I liked the way we worked together out there on The Winter War,�€� she mused. �€œAnd I prefer to keep busy, even if it means doing odd jobs around here for a time. I�€™d like to have a good amount of funds, and be more acclimated to this cold, before I venture north to Winterhold. How does getting paid for a month�€™s worth of work sound to you?�€�

Sten felt wariness rear its head. �€œWhat kind of work do you have in mind?�€�

�€œEvery city I�€™ve come across, every settlement, even individuals encountered on the roads,�€� Lilisfina crossed her arms, then lifted her left fingers to tap on her jawline, �€œthere�€™s always something that needs to be found, a forgotten task that needs to be completed, and a message to be delivered, all involving danger to some degree or another.�€�

�€œHmm, and you want a strong arm at your back?�€�

�€œOr in front of me, or at my side, wherever such strength is needed.�€� Lilisfina nodded. �€œBut such a strong arm needs to be someone I can trust with my life, and here in Skyrim, that�€™s a question that I have to consider very carefully.�€� Again she tapped her jaw with her fingertips. �€œEspecially in Stormcloak territory.�€�

�€œWell, you can ask my Khajiit employers if they have been happy with my services,�€� Sten mused. �€œThey seem to trust me quite a bit. And I�€™ve always done my best by them.�€� He met her gaze. �€œBut they�€™ve proven to be good employers, and have always treated me well. That kind of trust goes both ways, ma�€™am.�€�

Lilisfina nodded. �€œAgreed. I tend to be careful of who I hire, because it would be easy for someone physically stronger than me to take advantage.�€� She tilted her head at him.

Take advantage? Yes, I suppose there are those who would see this little Wood Elf as easy game. But I suspect she has claws ready to unsheathe at any time, like a cat. No, she deserves respect. �€œI doubt anyone who�€™s tried to take advantage of you ma�€™am,�€� he said quietly, �€œlived to tell the tale.�€� He shook his head. �€œBesides, I wouldn�€™t shame my Ma like that.�€�

Lilisfina�€™s eyebrows shot up. �€œYour Ma?�€� She smiled. �€œI hear love and respect in your tone just now. She must be some woman.�€�

�€œAye, that she is,�€� Sten forgot to be embarrassed.

�€œHow much do you typically make in a month, Stennvar?�€� Lilisfina turned serious again.

�€œVaries,�€� Sten replied. �€œIn the winter months there isn�€™t much travel, so I make less. Summer, like the last couple of months, tends to be very busy.�€�

�€œAs caravan escort for the Khajiit?�€� Sten nodded. �€œHow much do they typically pay you?�€�

�€œFifty drakes per trip, and each trip usually takes about two sevendays,�€� Stenvar replied. �€œSo usually fifty to one hundred per month, depending on the weather and trade.�€�

�€œAnd that�€™s good pay for you?�€� Lilisfina shrugged. �€œI don�€™t want to take you away from a good source of income without making up for it.�€�

I�€™ve never heard that from any employer. Sten took a deep breath. �€œIt�€™s one of the best jobs I like to do,�€� he said slowly. �€œBoring at times, but the people are good souls.�€�

Lilisfina�€™s smile shone again. �€œNice to hear that - I haven�€™t heard that kind of sentiment since I left Black Marsh.�€� She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. �€œHow does two hundred a month sound? Plus half of all fees and bounties we collect, and half the profits from any loot, above that two hundred drakes?�€�

�€œThat sounds almost like a partnership . . . �€œ Sten trailed off when he realized he was thinking aloud.

�€œWhy not?�€� Lili divided up the stacks between them. �€œAt least for a month. Or until I get to Winterhold. Whichever comes first.�€�

Should I ask her why? Sten decided to ask a question of his own. �€œWhy do you want to get to Winterhold so badly? It�€™s a lot colder than Windhelm, and not as much fun.�€�

�€œWhen I was but a wee lass,�€� Lilisfina held her hand about three feet from the floor, �€œthe Spinner in my village told me to go to the College of Winterhold to learn how to master my magic. Not the Arcane University, mind you, nor the College of Sapiarchs, nor even Shad Astula.�€� She took a breath. �€œShe was very specific - College of Winterhold. So I started apprenticing with different mages and studying as much as I could, so I qualify to enter the College once I reach it.�€�

Sten regarded the coins in front of him, then slid them into his bag. �€œBut why me?�€�

�€œWhy not?�€� Lilisfina countered. �€œWe worked together well today,�€� she slid the last of the coins into her bag. �€œIt�€™s not every day I find a sellsword who�€™s open to using different tactics, to suggestions from a Mer, and a mage to boot! I doubt I�€™ll find another like you in all of Skyrim.�€�

Well. Sounds like she knows what she�€™s looking for. �€œIn that case,�€� Sten spoke carefully, �€œI agree to a month, and possibly as far as Winterhold if it takes longer.�€� He tied his coin bag shut and hefted it thoughtfully in his hand This is almost a year�€™s worth of work! Wonder if it will indeed be worthwhile working with this Wood Elf mage.

�€œOne more thing,�€� Lilisfina�€™s eyes flashed. �€œSkyrim and its customs are new to me. May I trust you to keep my from putting my foot in my mouth with your fellow Nords? Some seem to be more easily offended than others.�€�

Smart lass. Sten let the laughter out. �€œI suspect you know that�€™s true anywhere you go. Of course, I�€™d be glad to explain our customs as we go along, but I should warn you some of them don�€™t make sense to me, either!�€�

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Aug 17 2024, 07:46 PM

[Acadian]

Another delightful episode as Lili and Sten delve deeper into what makes the other tick and, ultimately, decide to embark on a longer term arrangement than ‘by the job’. Looks like there may be a few more local jobs on their dance card before they head off to Winterhold.


Nit? - -’I’m going to sign off now so I can get these coins off {to?} you tomorrow.’

[Grits]

I enjoyed listening in as Lili and Sten divided up the payoff. Sounds like they will be busy as Lili prepares herself for the journey to Winterhold. Fun to hear Shad Astula and the College of the Sapiarchs mentioned!

[SubRosa]

A thousands dragon bucks! It sounds like Sten and Lil are now high rollers. At least until they blow it all on hookers and skooma...

Funny how later in the game when you fight either with or against Ulfric, he only has the Unrelenting Force shout, that pushes people back. I don't recall any shouts that just kills people straight out. Though there are ones that do fire or frost damage of course.

So Lil is a fair minded person. She seems to me that she's more interested in finding a partner than an employee.

Some nice world-building with the discussion of mercenaries, carls, guards, and the differences between them.

[Lena Wolf]

I keep wondering how Lilisfina is going to get Stenvar out of his armour, because I know it is not going to be "what you've been thinking".

[Renee]

Oh nice. That's clever, the consideration for Lilisfina favoring certain senses over others. Again, I enjoy reading Stenvar's perspective, especially how the influx of new cash is going to upgrade his armor, and also that he hopes Lili will throw more work his way.

“What’s that about?"

I'm noticing the quotation marks. You're using multiple devices to write/edit? Or multiple programs? I only notice this because my old laptop put slanted marks into the story while my new laptop (and my home computer) uses straight marks. All my stories up 'til recently have a mixture of marks.

Hmm, they're talking about Civil War/main quest stuff. See, me and a friend have been trying to predict which quests, if any, Lili's getting involved with. Perhaps this is a portent. I don't want to post my prediction(s) just yet.

Yeah, 50/50 is best. Equal split of proceeds, unless somebody in the party is slacking!

“Why do you want to get to Winterhold so badly?

Magic, baby!

This post has been edited by Renee: Aug 15 2024, 05:38 PM

[treydog]

Another interesting and enjoyable excursion with the "Lillis-var" duo. More world-building, again written in a fashion that is natural and seamless. We begin to see the outlines of the political situation and also why our Wood Elf mage is so determined to get to Winterhold.

And Sten's character shines through, not just in his comment about his Ma, but also his interactions with and preference for working with the Khajiit.

A most satisfying conversation to overhear, with more insight into our friends.

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: Thanks for catching that nit! I'll go back and fix it! I'm glad you enjoyed this "getting to know you under the cover of getting to know Skyrim" conversation between Sten and Lili. And yes, you guessed right, there will be more ticks on their dance card before they head out!

@Grits: Glad you liked the mention of two of the magic centers from ESO mentioned here! As a worldly (nirnly?) traveler, it would make sense that Lili would know of all the magic schools/colleges out there in TES lands!

@SubRosa: Yuppers! I spent quite a bit of time thinking about coinage. Since the Septims have died out, would they continue minting coins in their images? Not in Cyrodiil, by my thinking. In fact, the only place that would continue minting septims would be in Windhelm - drakes would be more common elsewhere, I'd think. And since septims are gold, and running a war is freaking expensive, I'd think the Jarl would keep his gold reserves strictly for the war effort, and everyone else has to get along with silver drakes. And yes, you're correct - Lili prefers a partnership rather than an employer/employee relationship. She has found this the best option for her, when the right option comes along. And again, mercenaries/sellswords, guards, carls, etc are another thing I spent time thinking upon!

@Lena: Yes, how is Lili going to get Sten out of his armor??

@Renee: I'm glad you are enjoying Sten's perspective as well as Lili's. And the wonky quotes are because in doing my final scan, I found a couple of places where the closing quotes were missing, and added them here in the forum editor. And it's fun to try and guess what quests Lili is going to get interested in, yeah?

@trey: I'm glad you enjoyed this conversation and world building that occurred in the last segment. And I agree, his consideration of his Ma and his sometime Khajiit employers are excellent indications of his character.

And now we finally find out how Lili is going to get Sten out of his armor!

***************************

Tirdas 19 Last Seed - Oengul’s Dilemma

Star danced through the falling snow as Lili and Stenvar trudged through the morning overcast toward the marketplace. The smell of winter produce and fresh meat mingled with the sharp odor of hot metal and the smoke from the forge. The market must be close.

As they stepped into the plaza and paused beside the blacksmith’s, Hermir straightened up from the forge bellows, her cheeks already red with heat and exertion. “Hello and good morning to you, ma’am, sir!” She glanced at the old man, fussing with a sword at the grindstone. “Oengul, that Wood Elf’s back.”

“All right, all right,” Oengul snapped back distractedly. Abruptly he stopped the grindstone and set the blade down. “Och, don’t mind me,” he continued in a softer tone. “I’ve been working the forge too hard, trying to get this sword right.”

“Sometimes it helps to take a step back and do something else for a change?” Lili suggested. “While I’m no smith, I’ve done enough crafting to know pushing myself too hard only makes things worse.” She nodded at Stenvar. “He needs to have his armor repaired and his blade sharpened.”

Stenvar shot Lili a sharp glance, then shrugged his zwei-hander from his back and handed it to the old smith. “I’d like the blade sharpened first. Don’t care to go walking around without it.” He set the pack containing his battered armor beside the tempering table. “I suspect the armor will take longer.” He eyed the weapon Oengul had set upon the grinding bench. “It looks pretty good,” he remarked. “What’s so special about it that you have to take extra care?”

“Not good enough,” frustration tinged Oengul’s grunt. “Jarl wants it to look like a particular ancient blade. High Queen Freydis ruled over Windhelm in the Second Era, and her sword was legendary.” He hefted the sword thoughtfully, then sighted along its edge and returned it to the bench. “Getting the real sword would be even better than making a copy. But no one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave and recover it from its resting place.”

Stenvar met Lili’s gaze steadily. He’s guessed this is the sort of job I was talking about last night. And the answer is yes. She smiled at him and took a deep breath. “Where is this Cronvangr Cave?”

“It’s a cave to the southwest of here, across the river from Mixwater Mill,” Oengul saw something in her expression. “If you were to go get it for me, lass, I’d be grateful.”

“Let me think about it,” Lili responded. “For now, we need to get that blade sharpened and the armor repaired.” When Stenvar’s gaze turned away, she laid a finger along her nose. Oengul grinned and nodded. Good, he remembers what we talked about last night. “Let me leave you coin for the work,” she finished. Stenvar opened his mouth to object, but she shook her head at him.

“Now, I hear there’s a good alchemist here?” Lili moved to the plaza.

“In that building on the north side,” Oengul directed her toward a tall, narrow two story stone building that stood nearest the smithy. Around the plaza, in front of other similar houses, stalls with various goods bustled with customers. Lili made out a couple of farm stalls selling winter vegetables, a meat stall, and a few general merchants. Behind them she spotted a sign in the shape of a raven, and pointed it out to Stenvar with raised eyebrows.

“Postal courier,” Stenvar responded. “You can pay to have messages hand delivered to folk across Skyrim. They often travel on the post carriages like the one you saw outside the main gates.” He reached into his coin bag. “Would you mind if I stopped in there for a bit? I’d like to pick up some writing materials.”

“Of course,” Lili responded. “Today I’d like to explore Windhelm a bit more, and get to know it better.” She indicated the alchemist. “Why don’t you meet me in there after you’ve made your purchases?”

“Will do,” Stenvar nodded and strode away across the plaza. Lili watched him go. He’s only got that woolen shirt, and those leather trous. How in Oblivion is he staying warm?

“He’s quite easy on the eyes, isn’t he?” Hermir’s voice whispered in her ear. Lili laughed and turned to meet the taller woman’s gaze.

“I agree, though that’s not why I hired him!”

“I hope not!” Oengul’s growl reached them from the other side of the tempering table. “He’s the strongest sword arm in all of Skyrim!”

“A strong man’s only as good as his heart and mind,” Lili remarked as she moved toward the alchemist’s shop. Hermir’s chuckles followed her into the building’s warm interior.

Within the confines of the alchemist’s, competing aromas assailed her nose, and Lili paused to breathe deeply. As the door swung shut behind her, she heard coughing that drew her gaze toward the Altmer behind the counter. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted in a querulous voice.

The Imperial man facing him shook his head. “Master,” his gentle voice held a healthy strength absent in the other’s, “you’re far too old for this sort of journey. We don’t know what’s inside . . . “

“I’ll - I can - just . . . “ The Altmer’s weak protest dissolved into further coughing. Now Lili recognized the odor of terminal illness and frowned at the alchemist.

“You see,” the other exclaimed softly. “You’re not well! Have a seat, and I’ll fetch you some tonic.”

“Bah! If there was a tonic that could help me I would have found it by now . . . “ Again the Altmer broke into a hacking fit that shook his thin frame. He shooed the shorter man away impatiently and turned toward Lili.

“Ah, a new customer!” He wheezed and leaned on the counter. “Nurelion at your service. Please, how may I help you?”

“Yes,” Lili took a turn around the front room, eyeing the alchemical samples on display. There’s potential for another job, but be careful. “I am a novice alchemist, and am interested in finding new flora. What’s common around here, and what’s hardest to come by?”

Nurelion’s gaze narrowed on her. “Are you looking to open a shop here?”

“Oh, not at all,” Lili answered. “I just arrived in Windhelm a few days ago, and am new to Skyrim. What I had in mind is that I would travel around the Hold, and if I find anything of interest to you, I would bring it back and sell it to you.”

“And set a high price on it, of course,” Nurelion scowled. Lili shook her head.

“Only if it proves to be very dangerous to obtain,” she remarked. “Like, say, a Daedra’s heart.”

His brows lifted as Nurelion regarded Lili for several rasping breaths.

“I’m sorry to hear you’re having difficulty with your breathing,” Lili added. “I have some healing experience myself, and have traveled around Tamriel over the years.” Now to find out what he needs.

“As have I,” Nurelion coughed again, covering his mouth with a square of fine cloth. “But there is something you could get for me.” His voice lowered to a conspiring level.

Aha. “What is it?” Lili drew nearer to the Altmer.

“Just a man’s life work,” he leaned down to Lili. “I’ve finally deduced the location of the White Phial, but that doting busybody won’t let me get it,” he waved his hand in the direction of the younger man at the alchemy table in the corner.

“The White Phial?” Lili repeated.

“Yes, yes,” Nurelion’s tone turned impatient. “It’s buried with its maker, Curalmil, in a long forsaken cave west of here. Curalmil was a crafty one, even in death. You would need the skills of a master alchemist to reach his resting place.” He turned away to the back wall, and shuffled dried plants around in search of something. Once he found it, the Altmer turned back to Lili and handed her a small vial. “Luckily for you, I’ve already made the mixture.”

Cold air and white light flushed through the shop as Stenvar entered. Just as quickly, they were gone when he closed the door behind him and joined Lili.

“Do you have a map, Bosmer?” Nurelion asked. Lili shook her head.

“I do,” Stenvar reached into the sack from the postal courier shop and pulled out a folded parchment. Stennvar didn’t waste any time there. Nurelion took it from him and spread it open on the counter.

“See, the road that leads west from Windhelm, almost all the way to Nightgate Inn,” Nurelion indicated the landmarks on the map. “About here, is Forsaken Cave.”

Stenvar produced a graphite stick and placed a small x where indicated. “What’s in Forsaken Cave?”

“The White Phial,” Lili answered. “Something Nurelion needs to get well.”

“What’s so special about the White Phial?” Stenvar asked as he tucked the graphite away. I was about to ask that question!

“A legendary bottle, forged in the days when Skyrim was just starting its turn to ice.” Nurelion’s gaze grew distant as he searched his memory for the tale. “A small container, made of the magically infused snow that first fell on the Throat of the World. It is said the Phial will replenish whatever liquid you place inside it. For an alchemist like myself, it is the most pure expression of my art. To create from nothingness is . . . poetry.”

“Why is it so important to you, Nurelion?” Lili studied the map Stenvar had purchased.

“I have spent my entire life searching for it. It brought me all the way to these frozen reaches from the warm embrace of Summerset Isle.” Nurelion coughed, then cleared his throat. “Entire years spent in libraries. Seeking out tiny villages with local legends that contain but a whisper of a hint of the Phial. I even named my shop after it, hoping that it might attract anyone who had heard of it.” He lifted one bony hand and curved his fingers toward his palm in a grasping gesture. “And now it’s within my grasp - but the Eight, it seems, have played a cruel joke on me. In my current condition, I’ll never be able to lay my hands on it.”

Lili regarded Stenvar quizzically. Well? He returned her gaze neutrally. After a few breaths, she turned back to Nurelion. “We’ll take a look,” she said.

“Thank you,” Nurelion whispered. “May the Eight guide you.”

Lili and Stenvar turned away. As Nurelion moved to the stairs leading up to the second floor, the Imperial man approached them. “I’m Quintus Navale, Nurelion’s apprentice. I couldn’t help overhearing his conversation with you. Please be careful.”

“Do you think it exists, sir?” Lili asked.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Nurelion does, and that might be the only thing keeping him alive right now.”

[Acadian]

”But no one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave and recover it from its resting place.”
Do I smell a quest in the chilly air?

”I have spent my entire life searching for it. It brought me all the way to these frozen reaches from the warm embrace of Summerset Isle.”
Ooh, and there’s another one!

That dance card’s filling up.

Your evocative descriptions continue to delight!

[Grits]

Star is quite a character! I love the way you bring him to life.

No one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave? A quest!

What’s in Forsaken Cave?! Even better! I love that Stenvar seems as eager to get into questing as Lili.

[SubRosa]

One thing I like about Skyrim is that winter produce is actually a thing. Like the snowberries. I can easily imagine that they have a strain of wheat that likewise grows in frozen ground, and absorbs water from the snow.

I keep expecting that they will roll up on Oengul and hear him saying: "Hammers don't have legs!"

"But no one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave and recover it from its resting place"
No one wants to be eaten by giant spiders! Even January agrees with that!

Ahh, I think I see how the fix is in here. Sten will give the blacksmith his current armor, then they will come back in a few days and Oengul will give him the new armor in its place.

I am sure the meat stall is a wooden stall that sells meat. But part of me likes to imagine that it is a stall that is literally made out of meat. That is what I get for watching the Owl House. It sounds like something you would see in the Boiling Isles.

We have a lot of Nords like Sten here in Michigan, who walk around in winter wearing shorts. That 50% frost resistance is a nice thing in northerly climates.

I see Nurelion is as grouchy as ever. Yet another quest just waiting to be completed.



Your post from August 8th got screwed up. It's a text encoding issue we have seen here in the past. I tried fixing it with a workaround, where an admin can open it in the QuickEdit mode, do nothing, then save. That usually fixes those weird symbols popping up all over the place. But it did not fix it this time. You might need to re-post the story text. Hmm, looking back, July 25th's post looks the same.



A Nit?
He’s only got that woolen shirt, and those leather trous.
Did you perhaps means trousers?

[treydog]

Legendary item quests on the horizon!

"No one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave; it's too crowded." (Or perhaps for other, less... ahem... "alive" reasons).

And I'm sure (like Hermir) that Lili's noticing of Sten's wool shirt and trews was COMPLETELY because she is wondering how he stands the cold.

Adventurous times ahead for our duo- and excellent story-telling for your fortunate readers.

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: Thank you for affirming my "evocative descriptions!" Both you and trey continue to encourage me to seek different ways to describe the same old experiences. Doing this from the viewpoint of one who has never before seen snow is so much fun. And yes, dance card's getting full! Just how Lili likes it!

@Grits: We'll see the day after next why no one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave! Fun times! But I promise Forsaken Cave will be just as fun in its own way . . . And I'm glad Star continues to entertain! He is the comic relief of this story, though he does have his more serious moments, as we will see.

@SubRosa:I had to pause and laugh a few times over your comments on this segment. Michigan guys are just like MN guys, barbecuing in February with the snow piled four feet deep and temps in the teens. "But it's balmy!"

"But no one wants to go to Cronvangr Cave and recover it from its resting place"
No one wants to be eaten by giant spiders! Even January agrees with that!

I wrote the Cronvangr Cave section a few months ago, but just read your section with the giant Abyssal Spider only last week. I had to chuckle at our similar approaches to gigantic spiders . . . I hope you will enjoy my take coming up in more than a few weeks from now. I did mean trousers, but shortened to trous because, sorry, "trousers" just makes me think of Mad Men, and I wanted to convey an image of something more like the worn, casually cut leather pants worn by our medieval heroes. So I deliberately went with trous (never liked "pants", either, come to think of it, and "breeches" just makes me think of powdered wigs, brocaded coats and buckled shoes, soooo). As for the posts from earlier, when I made edits, every quotation mark got replaced with those odd symbols. So weird. I could go back and fix them. As Sten says, Later.

@treydog: Thank you! After seeing (and responding to) Sage Rose's post about "trous", I see you have provided me with the exact word I was trying to remember! TREWS!! So from this point forward Sten will be wearing leather TREWS! For the same reason mentioned in my response to Sage Rose, I won't go back and "fix" his bottom wear in the previous post. I'm sure Sten is fine either way. And yes, Hermir is not the only one who notices Sten's wool shirt and TREWS . . .


********************

Tirdas 19 Last Seed - Tour of Windhelm

Ma,

Started a new letter now that I’ve sent off some coin and my last letter to you. Had to get more parchment - I have quite a bit to write about.

I now have a job that will last at least a month, and I got paid in advance too! I’m also promised half of any profits above my pay as well - it sounds almost like a partnership, except I’m not being asked to put up a stake. Still, it sounds good - The boss likes to keep busy.

My armor and blade are getting repaired now, and Lilisfina has picked up a couple more jobs for us to do once I get my gear back. Both are caves, though who knows what we’ll find in there! Wild animals, like bear and cats, most likely.

I’ll add more later, when I have more to tell.

Oengul called Sten and Lilisfina over when they left The White Phial. He held up the zwei-hander and shook his head. “Stenvar, your blade has been damaged and repaired so often, I’m starting to see signs of failure. Next fight you get into, it might shatter on you.”

Not my da’s blade! It’s not that old. “How do you know?” Sten frowned at the iron sword. In response, Oengul tapped the blade lightly on the anvil, causing it to ring. Sten heard Lilisfina gasp and saw her cover her ears. Star whined and lowered his own pointed ears.

“See, even she hears it,” Oengul nodded at the Wood Elf. “It doesn’t make a clear ring anymore.”

Hear what? I didn’t hear anything unusual. Sten glanced at Lilisfina, who nodded confirmation. “It’s still subtle,” she said, “but I have very good hearing. And I suspect Oengul’s trained to listen for it.”

“Aye, the lass is right,” Oengul drew Sten’s attention back to himself. He nodded at Hermir, who headed within the blacksmith quarters. She returned a few moments later with a sheathed weapon in her hands. “I do have a decent replacement all ready to go, if you’re interested.” Hermir extended the long hilt of the zwei-hander to Sten.

A new blade? And me with a full purse! I was hoping to save up for a new set of armor! After a moment’s hesitation, Sten accepted the offered hilt and drew the blade from the sheath. Steel. Polished, keen edge. Good weight and balance. He stepped back from the others to give himself room for a few test swings. Recovery’s easy with this - better than with Da’s old blade. “It’s a very good blade,” he admitted. “Did you forge this, Oengul?”

“Hermir did,” the older smith nodded at his apprentice, who lifted her chin and squared her muscular shoulders proudly.

“You have done your master proud, Hermir,” Sten approved, returning the blade to its sheath in Hermir’s hands. “You learned well.”

The apprentice’s brows shot up in surprise, then she took a quick breath. “Th- thank you, sir,” she stammered. “I still have much more to learn.”

Sten took the sheathed blade from Hermir and studied the finely worked wood scabbard, its steel fittings gleaming in the overcast light. “How much?” He caught the glance she slid to Oengul, who nodded.

“One hundred drakes,” her voice held none of the uncertainty he had noticed in her glance. That much? She must be good for the old man to approve such a high price.

“Stennvar,” Lilisfina’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “What are your thoughts about this blade? Is it good, or perhaps better than your iron zwei-hander?”

“Very much so,” Sten admitted. “Steel is much more durable, and keeps its edge better than iron.”

“Then I’ll pay for it, if you like it that much.” She smiled at his startled glance. “I consider it a wise investment into your well-being.” She turned to Oengul. “And what of the armor? Do you know when it will be ready?”

“We’re starting on it right now,” Oengul responded. He met Sten’s wary gaze. “Might be a day or two, I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“Very well,” Lilisfina reached into her coin bag and counted out the drakes. “How much of this one hundred is actually going to Hermir for the work she’s done?”

“Seventy five,” Oengul responded. Sten shot him a glance. Seventy five! Typically it’s more like fifty fifty! “I keep twenty five for teaching her,” Oengul continued, his gaze turning proud as he watched his apprentice hand over the baldric that would allow Sten to wear the zwei-hander at his back when sheathed. “If I had forged this blade myself, it would have been closer to one fifty.” He shrugged. “Though I doubt it would be much better than her work. She’s good with the steel - it’s the other metals she still has to master.”

“You’re generous with your apprentice,” Lilisfina remarked as Hermir moved to the forge to work the bellows.

“The girl works hard, and learns fast,” Oengul snorted. “Soon I won’t be taking commission on her steel work - they’ll be paying her smith prices soon. It’s only fair.”

“And the sooner she masters her trade,” Sten remarked, “the sooner Hermir moves on, yes?”

“Actually, I’m thinking of retiring when she gets to that point,” Oengul grinned at Hermir, “and turning this forge over to her.” He laughed at her startled glance. “What’re you looking at, girl? You’re always talking about making weapons and armor for the Stormcloaks, and right here is the place for that!” He shook his finger at her. “But you still got lots to learn, so better get back to work!”

Sten chuckled as he led Lilisfina north to the graveyard outside the Halls of the Dead. Lilisfina paused beside one of the gravestones, her gaze on the carving. “Do you think Helgird has the reavers in her care now?”

“I imagine so,” Sten responded. “What’s on your mind?”

“What will she do with their gear?”

“She’ll set it aside for us to claim, by right of combat,” he answered. “Then you can sell them to Oengul for scrap.”

“Do we need to discuss that with her?” Lilisfina glanced up at the grey sky. Star wandered among the stones, his nose moving along the ground on his own canine quest.

“Let’s stop by this afternoon, after the noon meal,” Sten suggested. “She should have the bodies ready for the fire by then.”

“Fire?” Lilisfina repeated. “Not burial?”

Sten shook his head. “Criminals don’t get buried -“ he gestured around the graveyard for emphasis. “Sacred ground is too limited. Unless they have family to pay for burial, they’re cremated and their ashes fed to the fishes.”

“Is that just Windhelm, or true of all of Skyrim?”

“Other towns and cities may do things differently,” Sten tapped the gravestone beside him, “but that’s the way it’s done in Windhelm.”

“I see, thank you,” Lilisfina’s gaze turned thoughtful, then curious. “Where to next?”

Where to, indeed? Sten spotted the archway leading north from the western end of the graveyard. “Would you like to see where the rich folks live?” He led Lilisfina to the northwestern quadrant of the walled city, tucked beneath towering mountain cliffs. “This is the Stone Quarter,” he indicated the manor homes built from hewn stone, embellished with carvings over doors and windows. He caught her shiver, and a slight frown crossed her face as she lifted her eyes to the houses ahead of them. She looked from left to right.

Sten indicated the modest manor on their right. “That’s Viola Giordano’s house.” He regarded the stone facade a moment. “She’s lived here so long, folks have forgotten where she came from, or how she comes by her income.”

“Giordano?” Lilisfina repeated. “Sounds more Nibenean than Nord.”

“You’re right,” Sten nodded agreement. “She is Imperial, but much more than that we really don’t know much beyond rumors.” Except for one thing. “We do know that she has her sights set on Captain Lonely Gale.”

“Yes, Susanna did mention that the first night I was here,” Sten caught the amusement in her tone. “Something about how her relentless pursuit is not exactly welcomed.”

Sten laughed. “That about sizes it up.” He indicted the larger manor opposite Giordano’s home. “That one belongs to Clan Shatter-Shield,” he continued. “Torbjorn runs the trade office in the port.”

“Does he?” Lilisfina mused. “He’s the one that pays those Argonians in the port?”

“To load and unload his ships, yes.” Sten recalled the angry comments and Lilisfina’s interest in them. “I wouldn’t think it wise to bring up the question of their pay with him right now.”

Lilisfina turned to face him. He could still see the slight discomfort in her expression as she regarded him. It’s almost as if something smells bad around here. “Come with me,” he led her to the far end of the street and stopped in front of the smallest manor house.

“Something’s not right about that house, Stennvar,” Lilisfina murmured. Now he could see the revulsion clear on her face. Star whined from his place next to her side.

“That’s Friga and Nilsine Shatter-Shield’s home,” he explained. Just how much to tell her? “A few months ago, Friga was found brutally murdered in that house. Nilsine was so upset she moved back in with her parents in the Clan house, and this manor has been abandoned ever since.”

Lilisfina took a deep breath and let it out fiercely. “Is her body still in there?”

What? What is she talking about? “Her body was so badly mutilated, they never found all the pieces. They buried what they could find.”

Lilisfina swallowed in visible horror. “That’s dreadful. Poor Nilsine,” her voice was as soft as the misting breath from her lips. “Was she home when it happened?”

“No, she was visiting a friend in Kynesgrove,” Sten led her back south. “She was the one who found her sister’s body. They were twins, so it’s been especially difficult for her.”

Lilisfina paused and regarded Sten. “You’ll point the family out to me, won’t you?” she asked. “I’d like to know so I don’t mistakenly disrespect them.”

That’s considerate of you. “Of course,” Sten responded. He stopped by a narrow street that ran east from the Stone Quarter. “Let’s go this way.”

The path cut through the older inner city walls. Sten pointed out the huge slabs of stone that contrasted with the more modern blocks that made up the outer walls. “It is said these walls were erected by Ysgramor in the Merethic Era,” he told Lilisfina. “The outer walls were built in the First Era, and rebuilt after the Akaviri invasion in the Second.”

They came out onto the Palace Plaza, marked by three huge braziers marching down its center from the Palace to the north to the archway in the inner wall to the south. “This is the Jarl’s Palace,” Sten indicated the huge stone structure that towered at the far end. “Not sure if you want to go in there, considering the Jarl’s supposedly not fond of Elves.”

“Hmm,” Lilisfina nodded her agreement and pointed at the southern archway with a question in her eyes.

“Below the Palace Quarter you’ll return to the center of the city.” Sten led her past the guards and through the archway. He pointed out the stone structure to the right. “There’s the Temple of Talos - currently the only one in all of Skyrim.”

“And that’s Candlehearth Hall, right?” Lilisfina indicated the stone and wood hulk in front of them, rising from the lower ground. “The back side of it, anyway.” She glanced at Sten. “Where do you live, by the way?”

“I rent bedroll and storage space there,” Sten nodded at the inn. “It’s where I keep my trunk and personal belongings when I’m on a job.”

“Good,” Lilisfina nodded emphatically. She looked up at the sky. Sten followed her gaze to see the obscured glow of the sun almost directly overhead. “Time for the noon meal, yes?”

“Yes,” Sten’s stomach grumbled. “We can explore more of the city after lunch.”

[Acadian]

I smiled at Lili’s keen hearing. Like Star's, those big pointed ears are good for something.

It seems Oengul is wise to invest time and coin into Hermir. I should think that retiring and turning his business over to a worthy apprentice trained by him would be a fine reward for a lifetime of smithing.

Generous of Lili to spring for Stenvar’s new blade, though she is right about it being a good investment toward her own success.

An interesting tour of Windhelm. Nice job highlighting how old the city is.

Uh-oh, a sad tale of murder. . . .

Yeah, wise to bypass Ufric ‘Skyrim is for the Nords!’ Stormcloak’s place.

[treydog]

An interesting tour of the city, especially in the way that Lili (and Star) react to certain locations. We get several master-class moments of "show - don't tell" to illustrate her senses and sensitivities. Shout out to Star for wanting to cover his ears at the dissonant "cracked" sound of Sten's iron blade. And the scene of a brutal murder, the echoes of which are still strong enough to jangle our Wood-elf's "spider-sense." Note to Sten- Whether he knows it or not, he IS in a "partnership."

[Grits]

That was an interesting morning in Windhelm, especially the unpleasant sound and smell that Lilisfina noticed. Cold skies and warm company.

[SubRosa]

Bears and cats in caves? Or maybe a bearcat?

Time for a new blade it seems, in addition to the new armor that Sten does not yet know he is going to receive. Lil is making a big investment in him, literally as well as figuratively. Thankfully he seems to be both loyal and reliable, and so worth every drake.

I imagine that burials might be difficult in Skyrim's northerly climates due to the frozen ground. IRL, back in the old days bodies in places like that were sometimes stacked up over the winters, and only buried after the spring thaw. Having a destruction mage on the payroll to fry the remains would seem a good solution, as it would save on wood (that would likewise probably be precious in an ice-bound land).

Sounds to me like the Argonians need to form a trade union and start collective bargaining with Torbjorn. Of course then he would just fire them all. Then they could picket the docks, maybe start throwing magnus cocktails. Torbjorn could hire mercenaries to randomly shoot at them and and anyone else who happened to be nearby. In no time at all it could be Skyrim's version of the Battle of Blair Mountain.

I don't have to ask which house that is that gives Lil the willies. I suspect that she and Sten will end up investigating it further soon enough.

Well that is a trip around half the city, and the fancy side at that - the trade district, the rich folks homes, and the big kahuna's digs.

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I really enjoyed writing this little episode - I always felt that Hermir deserved more credit - she seems a smart lass that works hard and is anxious to learn everything her master knows, but has just enough sass to hold her own when he goes cranky on her. I also enjoyed indulging in my love of architecture and how it reflects the history of a place, so I'm happy you picked up on that.

@treydog: I figured with her more sensitive hearing both Lili and Star would cringe at the sour note at the heart of the ringing blade. I'm glad you enjoyed the way I used her senses to explore Windhelm. And yes, Lili now regards Sten as partner.

@Grits: Cold skies and warm company indeed!

@SubRosa: I had similar thoughts as you regarding burial customs in Windhelm - I figured those who died in winter would be interred in the crypts until the ground thawed in the spring; however over time that burial ground has become so full that funeral real estate now costs a pretty penny (drake? septim?); so an alternative would be to burn those who can't afford burial or permanent interment within the old crypts beneath Windhelm. Perhaps the oldest remains that have decayed enough have their bones (all that would be left) interred in those big urns you see in the Nord Crypts. And yes, Sten will turn out to be worth every drake Lili is dropping on him!

Sten gave Lili a tour of the western half of Windhelm. Now for the noon meal, and one more spot of sight-seeing!

************************

Tirdas 19 Last Seed - House of Curiosities

The common room was nearly empty when Lili and Stenvar returned to their table for the noon meal. Star flopped down beside Lili and whined. He’s looking for his bone. “Shush, Star, you’ll get fed soon enough.”

Susanna brought a pitcher of ale for Stenvar and a pewter mug of mead for Lili. “New blade, Stenvar?”

“Yes,” Stenvar placed the sheathed blade on the table with an air of pride. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Lili asked. “I haven’t really looked that closely at it.”

“Are you that way with all your purchases, Lilisfina?” Susanna’s tone turned teasing.

“He looked at it!” Lili pointed her thumb at Stenvar, who chuckled.

“Go ahead and take a look,” he invited with a wave toward the long hilt.

Lili laid one hand on the hilt, noting how her small hand seemed dwarfed by its length. This is why it’s called a zwei-hander - the hilt’s long enough for both of Stennvar’s hands. And those hands aren’t as small as mine! She grasped the scabbard with her other hand and pulled on the blade. It slid out with an ease that caught her off guard.

“Scabbard’s been oiled to make it easier to pull that blade,” Stenvar remarked. “Lined with a very fine horker skin.”

“Why horker skin in particular?” Lili wondered aloud.

“They hold the oil better and longer,” Stenvar responded. “But the exterior part’s made of hickory, that’s strong and durable.” He tapped the wood with a knuckle. “Won’t warp or crack with hard use, either.”

“You have hickory trees here?” Lili glanced up startled. “All I’ve seen are pines.”

“In the south, yes,” Stenvar said. “Along with oak, aspen and birch trees.”

Cautiously Lili pulled on the hilt, keeping one hand on the scabbard. At full stretch of her arms, the blade still hadn’t cleared the sheath, and she could feel the weight of it in her right shoulder. Stenvar gripped the scabbard and nodded for her to take the hilt in both hands. She did so, and the tip nearly hit the floor as she pulled it the rest of the way out. “Oh,” she exclaimed softly.

“Tiny blades don’t hurt enough,” Stenvar remarked with a grin. “A sword needs weight!”

Lili closed her eyes against the sudden thought that surfaced in her mind. Are we speaking of swords literally, or metaphorically? She fought down the grin and met his gaze. “There is such a thing as too much weight, Stennvar,” she kept her tone level. He laughed as she cupped the blade with her left hand and lifted the tip from the floor. Susanna put her platter down and took the hilt in both hands, steadying the zwei-hander enough for Lili to tuck it back into its scabbard. It slid in as easily as it had come out. “It helps that this is so well oiled,” Lili added, lifting her right brow at him. His grin widened, and Stenvar’s eyes flashed. Did he get the innuendo? If he did, he wasn’t offended!

Susanna stood between them, hands on hips as her gaze traveled from one to the other. “Is there something going on here I don’t know about?” she demanded softly.

Lili only laughed and took her seat next to Star. “Do you have anything Star can eat? Doesn’t need to be much, just enough to tide him over until dinner.”

“Of course!” Susanna tucked her platter beneath one arm and leaned down to Lili’s ear. “And if you choose to walk that path with Stenvar, you won’t regret it!”

Lili spluttered her mead and looked down, hoping the inevitable flush didn’t show too much. “Stennvar, tell me more about Skyrim, please.”

The sellsword looked up from settling in his seat at her right with raised brows. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything,” Lili said. “Where to begin? Windhelm is the capital of the Stormcloaks, correct?”

“Not exactly,” Stenvar responded. “It’s the capital of Eastmarch Hold.” He reached into a parchment pack on his belt and drew out the new map he had just purchased earlier. “Are you able to read a map, ma’am?”

“Yes, once I get myself oriented,” Lili said. She noted that Stenvar had spread it out so that north was at her top. He watched while she studied it. “This is Windhelm,” she indicated the city, “and here, I think, is where we found The Winter War and that fishing camp of Einar’s.” She traced her finger down the coastline. “And about here is Yngold’s Tomb, where you stopped to pay honor.”

“You are correct,” Lili could hear new respect in Stenvar’s voice. “And this area,” he indicated an expanse south of Windhelm which extended to a mountain range in the south, “is Eastmarch Hold. All of this belongs to Jarl Stormcloak.”

“So the Stormcloaks don’t have a capital city?”

“Not as such, no,” Stenvar shook his head. “Though you can consider Windhelm the heart of the Stormcloak rebellion, since it is Jarl Stormcloak’s seat.”

“So if he isn’t the Jarl of Windhelm, the Stormcloaks would just be a group of rebels?” Lili cast her gaze around the map. Eastmarch is a small part of the whole of Skyrim! “Not as legitimate?”

“You could say that,” Stenvar agreed. He indicated a few more cities on the map, “Riften, Winterhold, Dawnstar are all allied with Jarl Stormcloak. Morthal, Falkreath and Markarth are all sworn to Solitude, which in turn has sided with the Imperials.”

“And the Thalmor as well?” Lilisfina asked.

Stenvar nodded. “And Balgruuf in Whiterun has remained neutral so far.”

“And what is the climate like in these - Holds?”

“Winterhold, Dawnstar and the northern part of Eastmarch are snow covered year round. Southern Eastmarch Hold and the other provinces have snow only in winter.” He grinned at her. “You might find these more to your liking.”

“I might!” Lili exclaimed. “If I ever have a reason to visit them I would.” She leaned back as Susanna returned with steaming bowls of soup and fresh baked bread. “Hmm, smells great, Susanna,” she smiled as the server slipped a fresh bone into Star’s waiting jaws.

“Smoked boar and leek soup,” she said proudly. “One of Nils’s own recipes!”

Lili slid a spoonful of the soup into her mouth. “Oh,” she exclaimed softly. “So good - my compliments to Nils!”

“There’s a place in town I’ve been wanting to visit,” Stenvar said after a few gulps of the soup. “Calixto’s House of Curiosities,”

“House of Curiosities?” Lili repeated. “What is that?”

“I’ve been told it’s a place where you can go and look at things,” Stenvar said. “Oddities and such.” He shrugged. “The owner, Calixto Corrium, has collected things from his adventures around Tamriel and he likes to give tours.”

“Hmm, it would be interesting to see what another adventurer has collected.” Lili regarded Stenvar. “It’s something to do while we wait for your armor.”

The sun stood halfway to the top of the western city walls when Stenvar led Lili and Star to a shabby stone building tucked into a corner above the Grey Quarter. “The House of Curiosities,” Stenvar said with a flourish. “After you, my lady,” he held the door for her. Lili stifled a chuckle and stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was multiple layers of odor - mustiness, dust, and age. And beneath it all, death, the kind she had scented before in old crypts in Elsweyr and Morrowind. This is not good. The hairs on the back of her neck and down her arms prickled like so many fine thorns. At her left side Star whined anxiously.

An older Imperial man rose from his seat by the fire. “Welcome to the House of Curiosities!” He spread his arms wide to encompass the entire ground floor of the building. “I am Calixto Corrium, at your service.” His brown eyes studied them cannily. “I offer a brief tour of my treasures for a few coins, or you can simply browse at your leisure.”

We can browse on our own? Some treasure, if he trusts strangers among them. Lili regarded him a few moments, fighting the nausea and dread that the close air of the house triggered. She sensed Stenvar move to stand behind her right shoulder.

“What are your curiosities?” His voice calmed her. “How did you come by them?”

“Oh,” Corrium waved his hands vaguely, “my sister and I inherited a modest sum of money. We decided to travel and seek out whatever adventures we could find.” His gaze wandered around the cluttered interior. “As we did so, we encountered many tales of exotic and wondrous artifacts, and collected as many of these as we could.” His pallid face fell. “Alas, my beloved sister passed away a few years ago. I decided to settle here and open the House of Curiosities. I like to think my sister would be happy to see so many folk enjoy our collection!”

“How much for the tour?” Lili asked.

“Only three drakes each,” Corrium’s eyes flickered to Star. “The dog’s not welcome, though.”

Lili turned and gestured Star to wait beside the door. “Stay.” The Husky licked his lips and wrinkled his brows at her in a worried expression, but obeyed anyway.

“Let me,” Stenvar had already moved past Lili and dropped silver into Calixto’s eager palm.

“Splendid!” Corrium bounced to Lili’s left and directed their attention to a rack of shelving cluttered with various items. “Here are tools that were found in a crypt outside Windhelm. They belonged to the ancient Nords from before the First Empire.” He regarded them with a possessive air. “Most scholars believe they were used to prepare their dead for burial.” He glanced at them with a conniving expression. “What macabre mysteries these tools could reveal if they had the power of speech?”

The same sort of mysteries Helgird engages in daily with her own tools, Lili exchanged glances with Stenvar. She kept silent and followed Corrium to another set of shelves, this one full of books and scrolls. On a central shelf rested a large volume by itself.

“This is the Book of Fate,” Corrium announced in a mysterious tone. “It was discovered in a secret room in the Arcane University. The text describes the fate of the reader, and the words change from one person to the next.” He placed a finger on his lips. “Some have reported only blank pages, and no one knows why. Perhaps it means one has no destiny, or it signifies imminent death.” He sent an arch glance toward Lili and Stenvar, then led them to a collection of eating utensils arranged on a nearby table.

“And this is Ysgramor’s Soup Spoon!”

Stenvar leaned forward and peered at the indicated utensil. “But it’s a fork!” he protested. “No one can eat soup with a fork!”

“My friend,” Calixto countered, almost mischievously, “you did not know Ysgramor!” Lili stifled a snicker behind her hand and caught Stenvar’s grin. The aged Imperial moved them to a cluster of musical instruments. “And this is the Dancer’s Pipe,” he held up a bone flute, yellowed with age and use. “Legend has it this instrument has won wars, toppled empires, and changed the very course of history.” His gnarled fingers stroked the bone almost lovingly. “Its origins are lost to history, but stories tell of men who are compelled to dance uncontrollably upon hearing it, no matter the peril they are in.” He studied the carved holes. “To activate this strange power, one must only speak the magic words, which are — oh!” He stopped and covered his mouth with one hand. “I very nearly got us into a nasty predicament, didn’t I?” He gently placed the flute back in its resting place. “And with that, the tour is over! I thank you for your patronage, and I hope to see you again soon!” His assessing glance roved over Lili, and she sensed Stenvar tense behind her.

She swallowed against the odors roiling her nose and made herself smile at the Imperial. “Thank you very much for such a fascinating tour, sir.” She managed to walk, not bolt, out of the museum after Star once the door was opened.

Out in the cold afternoon, Lili took a deep breath and forcefully soughed the last of the disturbing atmosphere out of her nostrils. Stenvar regarded her in puzzlement. “Something wrong, ma’am?”

“It smells awful in there,” Lili whispered. “So much death.”

“Smell?” Stenvar paused and considered her words. “Sure, it’s poorly ventilated, and full of dust and must and other things, but death?”

“I have a very sensitive nose,” Lili reached down to touch Star’s ears. “Almost as sensitive as his,” she indicated the dog.

“I see,” Stenvar grunted. “What did you think of the tour, other than the smell?”

Lili chuckled in spite of herself. “Ysgramor’s Soup Spoon!”

Stenvar laughed heartily. “And the Dancer’s Pipe - good story there!”

[Acadian]

Thanks for the hearty lunch!

I laughed at Lili’s innuendo-laced flirting with Sten. Not so subtle, apparently, that Susanna couldn’t pick up on it. Probably wise of the blushing Lili to engineer a change of subject.

More nice review of Skyrim’s clime, geography and politics.

I confess, when I first read ‘House of Curiosities’, my mind traveled to the Shivering Isles.

[SubRosa]

So it seems that Lili is taken by Stenvar's new blade, weighty and stiff as it is...

What better way to kill time than go visit a museum! After all, they cannot Netflix and chill, or listen to the radio, or watch videos on YouTube. Things were a lot simpler back in the old days, even in just the 1800s.

I suspect that Lili's instincts about Calixto and his house are just as spot on as her feelings about that other house in the rich neighborhood last week.

Well the Book of Fate certainly sounds interesting. Also like a grift. But at least an interesting scam.

I laughed at Ysgarmor eating soup with a fork, because he was just that cool.

The Dancer's Pipe makes me think of the Dancing Plagues that used to happen in Europe, probably due to ergot poisoning.