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 I could never understand why Elisif sends you to a shrine in the wilderness, so I made up a reason. More dragons this time, too ... and Jordis!

Grits: It was the way the skull is shown in the load screen that inspired that. The circlet is way too tight on the skull, and looks embedded. So I ran with the idea.

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Previously Gilda and Clark finished off Potema, and took her skull back to Styr, and then Lydia and Clark delivered Torygg's War Horn to a shrine of Talos outside Whiterun.

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Part 25 - Proudspire

As Clark and Lydia walked up to the main gate, back at Whiterun, the guards were excitedly gathering on the battlements and pointing towards the Throat of the World. The two joined them, and saw a number of dragons flying around the peak. They could hear the great beasts chanting, all their voices in unison. They couldn't understand what was being said, but it was clear that some important ceremony was taking place. Did this have anything to do with Diablita and Alduin?

A visit to Dragonsreach confirmed that she hadn't returned that way. How long had she been gone now? A week?

"Time in Sovengarde may not pass as swiftly as it does here," Jarl Balgruuf reminded him. "Eternity's a long time, no matter how fast or slow it goes. And I'm certain that she prevailed, or Alduin would have been back for vengeance before now."

---

Clark needed to report back to Elisif, so he didn't wait for Diablita's return. She might not go back to Whiterun, anyway. Clark couldn't imagine her not telling Balgruuf what had happened; not after he'd put Dragonsreach at risk for her. But she might have other tasks to attend to before that could happen. He just didn't know.

---

He handed Elisif the orders that he'd taken from the Justiciar's corpse. They named the agent as Lorcalin, not a name she recognised. But the signatory was Elenwen, the Thalmor First Emissary. They didn't mention Elisif, or Clark, but just told him to kill anyone going to the shrine.

Elisif passed the orders to Falk Firebeard. He read them, too, and put them in his pocket. Nobody said anything.

"I'm considering making you a Thane of Haafingar," Elisif announced, as Falk nodded his agreement. "You'll need to purchase property here in Solitude, but I already have reports that you've done enough to help my people. Proudspire Manor is available, isn't it, Falk?"

"It is, if you have the 25,000 gold for the building. It comes with a housecarl, of course, since you'd become Thane. There's only a minimum of furnishing there at the moment, enough to be able to use the place while you upgrade. I can supply better furnishings when you have the funds."

"Then let me pay you for the building now, and we can do the formalities. I'd like to see the place before I know what needs changing," Clark decided.

"Jarl Elisif, Clark is now a property owner in your city. There is no longer any impediment to his becoming Thane, and you have my recommendation."

"Then by my authority as Jarl, I pronounce you Thane of Haafingar. You'll have duties here at the court, but those will be shared with Bryling and Erikur, my other Thanes. We'll let the guard know about your new status, so they won't treat like you were one of the common rabble. And I'll give you a tour of the Blue Palace, so you'll know your way around."

"You're most likely only familiar with the entrance, hallway and the audience chamber, the one we're in now. Follow me to the private sections."

Clark followed Elisif into the corridor at the side.

"The rooms here belong to Sybille Stentor, my court mage, Falk Firebeard, the steward, and Bolgeir Bearclaw, my housecarl. My own is the one at the end." Elisif paused to make sure Clark had registered that.

She turned and led him down the back stairs. "On this level, you'll find the staff quarters, the kitchen and the guest quarters. Bolgeir often sleeps down here, I suspect he likes being close to the kitchen." They walked along the corridor, to emerge at the hallway. Elisif pointed. "Across there is the Pelagius wing. We normally keep that locked, as it's supposed to be haunted. The staff go in and clean from time to time, but reluctantly."

Elisif turned and retraced the corridor to the stairs. "There's one more level below here. We have guests from Markarth staying there at present. Ex-Jarl Igmund and his immediate retinue relocated here after the peace conference. Let's not disturb them right now."

They walked back up the way they'd come down, and Elisif pointed out where Bolgeir usually stood when he was on duty. "He's quite dedicated. Sworn to protect his Jarl, and his wife, and continuing to do so, even now she's a widow. He makes sure nobody disturbs her rest."

Clark got the distinct impression that the arrangement wasn't entirely to Elisif's liking. She made several references to Falk's relationship with Bryling, and the fact that he might not be sleeping at the Palace every night. Sybille was a bit of a night-owl, sleeping most of the day, but you could rely on her staying in her quarters at night.

The final hint was that Elisif's door was never locked. "The Jarl should never be shut away from her people, should she?"

"I'd better go and take a look at Proudspire Manor before I do anything else," Clark reminded her. "I presume my housecarl will be waiting to give me the tour there."

---

Jordis the Sword-Maiden was a blonde version of Iona or Lydia. She had the same basic steel armour that they'd worn when he first met them, and the same introductory speech about protection and burden-carrying, but it stopped there.

That was because she had to show him around the house, and the opportunity for the other part would unfold as she went. She opened the door at street level, and handed him the key. "We're entering at basement level," she told him. "There's not a lot down here at present, just my little room here on the right. Single bed, not enough room for two. On the left there's space for an alchemy lab, and enchanting facilities, if you choose to have them installed."

The housecarl's room was clean and tidy, if a bit sparsely furnished. Comfortable enough, if you only wanted somewhere to sleep, and stash your gear. Clearly, Jordis had just arrived and hadn't had time to tidy any more of the house. The other side was piled with crates and barrels, and straw was scattered everywhere.

The stairs led up to a main floor with an entrance hallway, dining room, and living room. The main door led out to a stairway down to the street, but there was another door that led out to a patio, overlooking the harbour. Most of this floor was devoid of furniture, with just a few broken crates lying among the cobwebs.
On the upper floor was a small living space, with the bedrooms leading from it. The smaller one was empty, and the larger contained just a simple double bed. This floor, too could do with a good cleaning.

"This is the only double bed in the house." Jordis pointed out, sitting on it. "So I assume you'll be using it. Where would you like me to sleep? There's nothing fixed in my duties, but I'm amenable to persuasion."

"Your choice, of course. I should point out that I am Thane in Whiterun and the Rift as well as Haafingar, so I won't always be here. I'm also likely to have duties at the Palace that may continue into the night. In addition, I'd like to get this place cleaned up and refurnished first. That bed looks like it may already have occupants. Ones that bite."

Jordis got up quickly from the bed, and dusted off her posterior.

"So what would you like me to do for you now?"

"Just come with me to the Palace, and we'll arrange for the upgrades. I doubt that it will take long for them to move everything in. While they're doing that, we'll go to Beirand's and see what he has. You'll need better equipment than you have at present."