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.

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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: Gilda's got to compensate for her ... archery limitations, so destruction magic is her ranged attack. She'll continue to prefer one-handed with a sneak bonus, though, when she gets the chance.

Grits: Gilda's going to be doing that again this time, with variations. Lydia being more audible has nothing at all to do with her being left behind on the next trip. Just coincidence, really!

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Previously: Clark and company cleaned up their loose ends in Markarth.

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Part 12 - Road to Riften

They returned to Whiterun to drop Lydia off, and Gilda and Clark headed towards Riften.

Clark hadn't heard from his daughter, Karliah, in ages, and he was beginning to get worried about her. She'd followed in her mother's footsteps, as one of Nocturnal's Nightingales, and the last he'd heard was heavily involved with one of the others, an Imperial called Gallus Desidenius. The third Nightingale was Mercer Frey, the current head of the Thieves Guild, which had its headquarters in Riften.

Gilda had shown promise with her stealth, and the two places you went to train that further were the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood. It wasn't a difficult choice between those. And if Gilda was going to become a successful merchant, she needed to know how thieves operate. If she did well, she might get some level of immunity, too.

The other attraction was the uniform. She knew she looked good in tight leather, and theirs would make the most of her assets. For the journey, however, she was wearing a merchant's dress, and looking just like the apprentice she was.

---

Their wagon was stopped by a bandit demanding a toll, outside Valtheim Towers. Clark got down from the wagon, and put himself between the bandit and the horse, while he argued with her. Gilda could see another bandit out on the bridge, so she moved the wagon into the shadow of the tower where it would be safe from archers.

The one on the ground saw her do it, and broke off her conversation with Clark to draw an axe. Clark sent a lightning bolt through her at close range, then cast his Ebonyflesh spell in case any more bandits came down. An arrow flew past him, fired from the top of the tower.

Gilda and Clark rushed into the base of the tower and ran up the stairs. "If we meet more archers, stay behind my ward, and use that Ice Spike to shoot back," Clark instructed.

They met another axe-wielder first, coming down the stairs. Clark blocked and Gilda thrust past him with her sword, before the man could react. One more down. Clark peeked through the window slit and saw an archer waiting on the bridge, with his bow half-drawn, and aiming at the door. He cast a strong ward and stepped through the door, with Gilda firing Ice Spikes past him. The archer went over the side of the bridge, but not before Clark had taken an arrow. They retreated into the tower as Clark removed it and healed the wound.

"We'd better clear this tower first, or we'll just get shot in the back trying to get over the bridge," he reasoned. "Didn't you say there was another archer at the top of this one?"

Gilda nodded and was first up the stairs towards the top. She was sneaking up, hoping to catch the archer unaware, as she usually preferred. She found him peering over the edge, wondering when they'd come out onto the bridge. She struck silently. If he hadn't already been dead, the fall would have killed him.

When they got back to the bridge level, two more were coming across looking for them. Neither carried bows, and the bridge was too narrow for them to dodge Gilda's Ice Spikes. But her magicka reserves ran out just as the lead one dropped. The other stepped over his body triumphantly, and ran towards her. Clark pulled her back into the tower where they could both engage the man with their swords. Lydia had taught her well, and as she dodged back, Clark struck the man's side. When he tried to retaliate, Clark stepped back, and the bandit's swing missed him. Gilda stepped forward and thrust her sword at his flank. He flailed at the two of them alternately, each time getting hit by the other.

"That's the way to do it," Clark smiled over the corpse. "If you find yourself in the opposite situation, just keep going after the same one, and don't let him recover. Especially if you have a shield facing the other one."

"I'm putting on some of their armour before we cross to the other tower," Gilda responded. "Close tactics are one thing, but they'll have the same advantage I just did while we're on the bridge."

"Except that you'll have your magicka back, and will be able to return fire." Clark handed her a restorative potion. "In case you run out again, drink this. Oh, and since they'll have room to dodge, use the lightning instead of the ice. It's faster, even if it doesn't hit so hard."

Clark went first, running across the bridge. He couldn't zig-zag, but he varied his speed so the archers couldn't predict where he'd be so easily. Gilda noted that, and copied when she followed, at one point stopping completely to make the archer try to duck a bolt of shock. She was pleasantly surprised when he failed to do so, and staggered back from the parapet. She didn't think she'd killed him, but he wouldn't have much left.

She found Clark just inside in a mages' duel. Both parties had their wards up, and spells weren't getting through. Gilda stepped around and used her sword instead. Scratch one mage.

She let Clark know about the archer at the top of the tower. "Better go up there next before he can heal."
They had to go out onto the ramp, and came under fire from someone on the rocks. But the ramp circled around the back of the tower and they were quickly out of reach of the arrows. The archer at the top got off his knees as they appeared, and drew a dagger. It didn't help him, as Gilda gave him another dose of shock before he got close.

"Just the one on the rocks?" Gilda asked. Clark hadn't seen any more than one, but he'd been more interested in getting behind the tower than in counting. He peeked over the edge of the parapet, and saw the archer still watching the ramp. "He knows we have to come down."

Gilda drank Clark's potion and cast a lightning bolt with both hands. "Now he can stop waiting."

---

The bandits didn't have a lot of gold stashed in the various chests around the towers. Presumably the tolls hadn't been making them much. A few restorative potions, and discarded weapons were the only other things they found. Since they had a wagon, they collected all the bandits' armour and weapons. Usually they'd be too heavy to be worth taking, but this time was different.

"Are there any more places like this between here and Riften?" Gilda asked. "If there are, I'll stay in armour."

"No, not until we reach Fort Greenwall, just before Riften. And I want to stop at Darkwater Crossing tonight. There's a small mining village there, and they welcome traders. We'll trade at Shor's Stone tomorrow as well, but that's not far from Riften, so we'll not need to stay the night there."

---

They reached Darkwater Crossing without further incident, unless you count wolves. They were always a nuisance, wherever you went in Skyrim, but not a real threat to a competent traveller. Gilda thought she heard a bear, too, but it didn't come onto the road, and they didn't stop to look for it.

After trading with the miners, mainly food and trinkets for ores and ingots, they put the boards across the wagon to make their bed for the night. "Before we turn in, come this way," Clark told Gilda, and led her north past the smelter.

Clark led her down a slight slope to a pool. "Feel the water," he said.

"Ooh! It's warm! I wasn't expecting that."

"The water here bubbles up out of the ground hot, not far from here, and the pools around the edge are just right for soaking in. You don't want to stay in too long, as there's a lot of dissolved minerals that will start to make your skin itch. But it's just the thing for a dip before bedtime."

They luxuriated in the warm waters for a while, floating easily on their backs. It seemed that the heavy mineral concentration in the water buoyed them up more than usual.

Clark wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a dragon fly over, heading toward the Throat of the World. There were rumbling sounds coming from that direction, too. Perhaps the Greybeards were practising their Shouts.

They were just climbing out and towelling off when Annekke and Verner walked down the slope. "Oh, it's you two," Annekke said. "If it was the other miners, I'd be worried that the water would be dirty. They'll all probably be here in a minute."

The two Nords stripped off and took Clark and Gilda's places in the pool.

"Mining must be good exercise," Gilda remarked, as she and Clark climbed into the back of the wagon and pulled the furs over themselves. "Verner's in excellent shape. And I know you were peeking at Annekke."

"We'll probably meet their daughter tomorrow in Shor's Stone. She's a miner there."

"Really? They have a grown daughter? I didn't think they were that old."

"Let's just say that Annekke may have been a bit adventurous when she was young, and wasn't very old when she had Sylgja. She'd still be happier as an adventurer than a miner, but when she found this place, it was too good an opportunity to miss. With Verner's family being mining folk, and Sylgja on the way, they settled. Since her daughter grew up and moved out, though, she's getting restless again."

---

Verner and Annekke gave them a letter to take to Sylgja, since they were going that way. "And ask her why she hasn't been to visit," Annekke added. "She's probably found herself a man, and forgotten her parents."

Gilda would have liked to forget hers, but she said nothing.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Dec 8 2014, 07:56 PM