Breton and Bosmer

Dare you venture further?

Just here for gold	14.3%	[ 1 ]
Is this about Skyrim?	14.3%	[ 1 ]
Cool RP - the characters look interesting	0.0%	[ 0 ]
I like the story!	28.6%	[ 2 ]
What happens next?	42.9%	[ 3 ]
Total Votes:			[ 7 ]

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly nodded, and began stowing her things. She placed the map the Greybeards had given her in the center of her pack, where it would be safe from the elements.

"Sounds good," she said. "I could do with a drink."

She gave her flask a shake to test the contents, then thought better of taking a swig. Best to save the rest for the walk down. She threw on her armor, swords, and cloak, shaking a bit of melted snow off her boots before pulling them on, too. She gave her blades one last check before heading out.

"So," she said as they emerged back onto the snowy cliff. "This god of yours--what did he want?"

[Purplish Space Rock]

The fire beckoned, but Arwen waved goodbye at it, sighing wistfully. If only they could take it with them.

"That's all he wanted," she said, raising her voice over the wind. She covered her face again, cheeks starting to feel frozen. "He just wanted to tell me that we have a greater destiny than we think we do. Said something about us playing a part in ending the war in Skyrim. I think that would be pretty amazing, to go down in history as the essential part of ending a great war that tore apart an entire province."

The wind was still fierce, but the snow was only a light sprinkle, leaving their visibility thankfully rather clear. Arwen kept looking over the edge, a little afraid; the mountain was very steep, and not much for holding on to, should one fall, as mountains tended to be.

"At the same time, going down in history for something like that means we'd be accosted frequently by fawning strangers. How do you feel about it?"

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly was glad Arwen hadn't pressed the matter of whether or not she believed her about the whole god-visit thing. She was still pretty certain that Arwen had just fallen asleep in the warm comfort of the cave and mixed up dream with reality. It had happened to her before, just as it often did the others in her orphan gang in Cyrodiil. It was heartbreaking sometimes to wake up and realize that what you'd seen in your dreams was so much better than what you had.

However, conversation on the trip down the mountain sounded better to Thessaly than an uncomfortable silence, so she kept this counsel to herself.

"So long as they buy me a drink first, I'm okay with accosting," Thessa grinned wolfishly.

[Purplish Space Rock]

"I think I agree, but then again, I've got no fame to speak of." She stretched a little, reaching her arms out in front of her; something made a rather loud popping noise, and she seemed relieved.

"That was nice. I don't know, I can't decide if I'd like to go down in history. On one hand, there's the possibility of finding my soul mate." Arwen placed the back of her hand on her forehead, flapping the other and tittering. "Be they lady or gent, I suppose."

The faintest of howls could be heard in the distance, though it was unclear whether they were close or much further down, as the mountain path went in a spiral. Arwen grinned and peeked over the edge.

"Maybe we'll get to slay some wolves on the way down, too," she said, vibrating with excitement. "If we do, it'll be great fun. Fighting with wolves is pretty high up there on my list of favorite things to get into trouble with."

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly kept herself from snorting aloud at the mention of 'soul mate'. It was rather cute that her companion believed in such things. She felt it would probably be rude to share her own views on the subject.

Similarly, she didn't share Arwen's love of trouble.

"I'd much rather get off this rock and keep all my blood on the inside, thanks," she replied, but checked her blades again anyway.

The walk down was, for the first half, uneventful. So much so that, even counting the rather scenic view of Skyrim below was getting monotonous for the Bosmer. Suddenly, an idea formed.

The meeting with the Greaybeards hadn't been entirely without benefit. A couple of Arngeir's fellow monks had taught Thessaly some new shouts. Perhaps one of them could help her get down the mountain faster.

"Hey," she said to Arwen. "I've got an idea. I've got this new Shout I'm gonna try out. If it works, I'll bring you back a hot ale, alright?"

[Purplish Space Rock]

Arwen smiled broadly and stomped her feet, a little like an excited five year old.

"Oh, come on, that's all the fun of adventuring!" she said, throwing her hands up. "What fun is traveling if you don't run the risk of running into a troll and getting your head literally bitten off? Or trying to take down a mammoth on your own and having to run away screaming like a baby? Not that...I've had to do that, or anything." She laughed a little. "Okay, so I have. It was still a lot of fun!"

At the mention of the Shout, she pursed her lips a little, concerned. She wasn't sure what Thessaly meant, but she was slightly worried- mostly intrigued.

"Bring me back a hot ale? Okay. I could go for a good hot drink. I guess I'll see you at the bottom?"

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly laughed and shook her head. She and Arwen definitely had some different definitions of 'fun'.

"You are crazy," she felt it was her duty to inform her companion. "See you at the bottom!"

She faced the path before her, located the place in the back of her mouth where it felt like the word started, took in a deep breath, and....

"Wuld!"

Just like before, the dash was immediate. But she had misjudged the distance between her starting point and the nearby edge of the cliff, as well as her ability to turn while moving so quickly. In the blink of an eye, she found herself quite suddenly at the edge of the mountain, stumbling out towards the abyss. She threw one foot out into the air in a wild attempt to steady herself, desperately windmilling her arms. She teetered for one heart-stopping moment as her stomach leapt up into her throat and the blood drained from her limbs. Then, miraculously, she regained her balance, and fell backwards, sitting down hard in the snow.

[Purplish Space Rock]

"Maybe you're just boring," said Arwen, smiling. She gave her a little finger wave and hitched her pack up higher as she walked, waiting to see this spectacular feat. She felt the burst of power as Thessaly started her sprint, and it was fantastic- until she nearly went over the edge.

"THESSALY!" she shouted, almost admonishing. Arwen's stomach almost jumped into her throat and she slid a little ways down the mountain in her haste, as if she could somehow get closer fast enough to save her. When Thessaly tipped back toward the mountain, away from the edge, she felt the slightest bit of relief. Finally within reach- it felt it took ages to reach her- Arwen grabbed Thessaly by her pack and jerked her more firmly onto the path, unaware she had the strength.

"By the Eight!" She wheezed in panic and plopped down in the snow as well, suddenly exhausted and out of breath. "I guess we know never to do that again," she said, sweeping snow at Thessaly. "I almost vomited up my heart, you scared me! I thought you were going over the edge!"

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly sat in the snow numbly for a time until she could feel the solid thump of her heart against her chest as it fizzed life back into her limbs. She was sitting in the cold, wet snow, but she didn't think it was safe to stand yet.

"Alright," she squeaked. "Not doing that again."

[Purplish Space Rock]

Arwen also sat in the snow for a long while, her body loosening up and her stomach and heart settling back into their rightful places.

"You're just lucky the wind was blowing the right way," she said, finally getting to her feet. She made a little huff and dusted snow off her, kicking her boots together. She moved to the edge to look over and see just how far it would have been, letting out a quiet "wow," shaking her head. "The gods are smiling on you. How do you feel? Good enough to get going?"

[E is for Enigma]

Thessaly continued to sit until her breathing became regular and her legs and lower back started to become numb with the cold. When she was confident that her heart was pumping at a semi-normal pace, she got to her feet.

"Let's get off this bloody mountain."

The rest of the trip down was far less exciting. Whatever wolves had been howling never crossed their path, and though they passed the now snow-covered body of their fallen foe, they saw no other frost trolls on the trail.

Caution kept them at a slower pace, and, like the climb before, they reached their destination just as night was falling. As the buildings of tiny Ivarstead came into view, Thessaly gazed longingly at the tiny pinpricks of light that denoted the fire and warmth they were headed towards. Even the sound of the rushing river as they crossed the bridge was a welcome relief from the crunch of snowdrifts beneath her boots. The streets were deserted but for a lone guard and scattered farm animals, each of whom gave the pair curious looks as they headed for the tavern--but Thessaly wasn't up for sharing their adventures just now. All she wanted was a hot meal, a mug of ale, and a soft bed. Everything else could wait.

The innkeeper at the tavern she and Arwen had departed only days before was fortunately accommodating, though he pelted them with questions about their journey, having overheard them discuss their destination at their last stay. Thessaly did little more than offer him coins and mechanically consume her dinner before turning in for the night. She muttered a 'good-night' to Arwen and headed for her room. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

[Purplish Space Rock]

In contrast, the tavern was where Arwen had the most fun. She stayed up and ate with strangers, drank with strangers, and swapped stories with strangers, having the time of her life. She'd traveled with the Dragonborn, fought an ice troll, met a Greybeard, and encountered a supposed god. She refrained from exposing Thessaly as the Dragonborn, and kept her meeting with Lore a secret- her companion already thought she was crazy, despite what she said, and she didn't need others thinking the same.

When Arwen finally went to bed, she was very tired and very drunk. She slept heavily, as always, and woke late for once, hung over. She hadn't felt that way in a long while, as she kept a mind to drink water after every ale or wine, but she had been too exuberant the night before the care. When she got up, the sun was firmly in the sky and the morning cold had subsided, the afternoon cold in its wake; it was hardly better, but any little bit of warmth was good in Skyrim.

The inn had emptied out, as adventurers left and went on with their days. A few passersby hung out in the tavern to catch food and drinks before they went on with their travels and work. Arwen finally rose and shuffled from her room, wearing robes in place of armor, and sat down to eat, but she laid her head on the table as she stabbed a sweet roll with a fork. It was delicious, as she had gleaned from the bite or two she'd managed, but she was still a bit sick. Maybe she'd drank more than a little too much.

[E is for Enigma]

The lively tales Arwen had told the night before captivated many of the tavern-goers, who happily bought her drinks to keep her talking, which had probably done much to contribute to her morning hangover. Her audience didn't care if the tales were true or not--entertainment was a rare and valued commodity in so small a hamlet as Ivarstead, and Arwen was quite the storyteller.

There was one man who hadn't joined in the festivities. All night, he sat alone at a table in the corner, facing the door of the tavern, the wall at his back. He nursed the mug in his hand until well after the steam had ceased to rise from it, eyes shifting between nervous lookout and troubled introspection. There was a haunted look to his face, and the noise made by Arwen's audience seemed to startle him every once in a while.

He had been there when Arwen went to bed, and was still sitting at that same table, with what could have been the same cold mug in his hands, by the time she emerged the next morning. The shadows had deepened under dark eyes, and the expression on his ruddy face was worn and drawn. He barely noticed the other folk who came and went, but Arwen sat close enough that she could hear him muttering under his breath, clearly unaware he was doing so.

"Haunted... can't be... can't be true...."

[Purplish Space Rock]

The hangover took it out of her; Arwen barely paid attention to the man in the corner, but when he began murmuring, she couldn't help it. He was close enough that it was audible, and far enough that it was slightly unclear. With a heavy sigh, she stabbed the fork into her partially-eaten sweet roll with finality and stood, pushing her chair back. She moved over and plopped down into the seat across from the muttering man, rubbing her eyes.

"What's haunted?" she said, almost sadly. She felt it was her duty to find out, especially if something was haunted. It could mean a good adventure, for the both of them. If it was on the way to their next destination, that was even better. "You've sat here muttering for the past ten minutes, and you've been around since last night," she snapped. "You're bugging me out, and it's getting on my hung-over nerves, now that I'm not drunk. Wait, only tell me if it's something good." Even recovering from a night of heavy drinking was she a fast talker.

[E is for Enigma]

The man looked over slowly after Arwen sat down with him. It took him a few moments to focus, but her stream of words seem to confuse him a little.

"The barrow!" he moaned quietly, interrupting her tirade. "The dead walk in the tombs of our ancestors!" He seemed to sink into himself again, putting his head in his hands. "What could we have done to upset them so? Why do they return to haunt us?"

Thessaly wandered out of her own room this time, dressed in her normal outfit of furs and thick cottons, though she left her swords and armor back in her room with her other travel gear.

"Hey there, Arwen," she said, strolling over to the table and plucking up an apple. "Who's your new friend?"