Chirurgeon
Active Member
Ah well thank you. I am having a good time with it
The Nascent Ranger: Book 1 Responsibility
- Thread starter Chirurgeon
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Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 10
Hertis was the proprieter of the mill and had known Faendal. When Halas asked her if they could camp outside she replied “absolutely not!”. Halas was stunned until a smile crept up on her face. “You will stay inside with me for the night.”
Faendal laughed and the three went inside. Halas cooked up a roast of beef with special spices and he also put some potatoes in the coals of the fire. All the while they drank ale and Hertis talked about various things. It was a comfortable place and although Halas wanted to camp under the stars this was much more comfortable.
Halas recounted excitedly to Hertis how he killed his first wolf. “I am sure it wont be the last,” she replied reflectively.
Halas thought about it and realized that she was correct. He told her how Faendal had killed three wolves in a matter of seconds with his bow. The last one landing inches from him. She listened eagerly as Faendal’s young apprentice, ripe with ale, became quite talkative.
Finally after a few hours the yawns began to show and all three bunked down for the night. The basement of the mill had a variety of beds for the workers. Faendal and Halas bedded down for the night and slept like logs.
The next morning they all had a hearty breakfast and enjoyed some coffee. “I never took to that,” Hertis replied as she watched the ranger and his apprentice drink the black liquid.
Finally after breakfast Halas put on his backpack and Bandolier and the two set out for the journey back to Riverwood and then on to Whiterun.
“Faendal why are we going to Whiterun?” he asked as he bent over to pick some red mountain flower. “We are going to meet the ranger of Eastmarch. My good friend Jenassa.” Faendal was scanning the hills next to the road as they walked. It was unlikely an enemy would ambush the two but one had to be constantly vigilant. As the two walked back to Riverwood Faendal explained that the animals of the forests could easily give away an ambush’s location if one knew what they were looking for. He instructed Halas to listen to the birds. “They are everywhere.” Halas replied as he picked some mora topanella mushrooms.
“Yes but if you suddenly don’t hear birds ahead of you, or if some fly at you from a distance it could be a sign of an ambush.” Faendal pointed at the trees on either side of the road. “Each one of those trees could conceal a man if they really wanted to be hidden.”
Halas thought about all this as they walked and became a bit paranoid. Everytime there was a moment of silence in the forest he began to hesitate. “There is a difference between paranoia and caution dear Halas.” Faendal told him as he slapped his backpack.
By lunch they had arrived in Riverwood and they walked up to Faendal’s house to find the horses waiting patiently. Halas and Faendal both took out an apple and fed it to the horses. “We will have the stable master at Whiterun take good care of these guys.” Faendal smiled as he patted the neck of Rugot. In an effortless flight Faendal was on the saddle and began to walk his horse toward the road.
Suriel stood patiently waiting to be mounted by Halas. Halas took a breath and did exactly what he was supposed to do and successfully got onto the horse. His ears flicked and he shook his head and Halas guided the animal toward Faendal’s location.
On the other side of the bridge down the road toward Whiterun a deer was ambling down the road. Faendal quietely told Halas to get off his horse. Hell getting off was the biggest issue and getting off quietly was an even greater challenge. He did manage it although it didn’t look very smooth.
“I want you to assume the scout position and slowly work your way up to the deer. I want you to get as close as possible without scaring it away.”
Halas crept slowly up toward the deer, his feet able to feel the ground through the supple leather of his boots. A ranger’s boots were absent the thick sole that most boots were made of. This is so the terrain could be felt and noise was reduced. He got within 10 meters of the deer when it bolted down the road.
“Had you a bow and arrow equipped you would have taken that down. Not a difficult shot.”
Halas nodded and the two continued the journey. As they did Faendal instructed Halas on the details of stealth. How to use the shadows and mottled look of the land to your advantage. How it was easy to blend into the terrain and how remaining motionless was key to survival.
Finally they came to Whiterun and the stablemaster eagerly took the horses. The horses would be pampered for the rest of the day while Faendal and Halas went into the city.
The great gate of the city of Whiterun loomed in front of Halas and he had never seen anything quite like it. Its great wooden doors and huge hinges an impediment to even the most determined enemy.
Upon entering the city it was quite busy with activity and Halas soaked it all in. They walked up the road toward the marketplace and the usual hub bub of the market stalls was evident. Ascending the stairs he saw a giant dead tree. “What happened to the Gilder Gleam?” Halas asked as he surveyed its massive expanse. “No one knows for sure but it’s a sad thing that it has died.” Faendal thoughtfully replied. It was obvious that his Valenwood roots felt sadness over the loss of such an ancient spirit. “Well maybe there is a way to bring it back to life. Some kind of magic…” Halas faded off as he saw the huge fortress at the top of the road. “Dragon’s Reach, “ stated Faendal as they turned right toward the Comanions home of Jorvaskar.
Halas was in sensory overload as he felt the wind, smelled the city, and soaked in the visuals. On the backside of Jorvaskar was a dark elf waiting for them. Jenessa smiled as she saw Faendal. Her armor was unlike anything Halas had seen. It was Vvardenfell glass and shone like glass but was certainly some sort of metal.
Halas was introduced and felt like Jenassa was quite the adversary. She had two deadly glass daggers at her side and Halas was willing to bet that she knew how to use them.
“I have business with the Jarl. Try not to kill him Jenessa.” Faendal turned around and left. As Halas watched his feet went out from under him and he laid on his back in a pile of dust. He had scarcely hit the ground when he saw a dagger point hovering over his chest. Furious and scared he looked up in disbelief Jenessa was staring at him with those big elven eyes. She smiled and offered her hand after sheathing her dagger.
“Let me show you how that will never happen to you again.” For the next hour she slowly began to teach Halas the dance of death. Everything was in slow motion. She showed him the ready position for daggers. How to feint with your right and hit with your left. She showed him how, with a dummy, to throw an opponent off balance and actually do more damage with your left hand because your opponent trains against right handed opponents.
Throughout the morning Halas drilled the basic moves over and over. All the while Halas was fighting to maintain his posture and body position as he moved in slow motion. Sweat pored off his brow as he ducked and weaved around a wooden dummy and inflicting sharp quick wounds to his opponent. Jenessa told him he had to be like water. The moves had to flow from one to another in a seamless motion.
She showed him how to block an attack with his bracers. It was a lot to learn on his first day. Halas seemed to understand but the speed was so slow he was not sure if he could do it fast like in a real fight.
“Time will speed up as you master the basics Halas,” she said reassuringly.
“Soon I will start to come at you with a practice sword and then a real sword.” She smiled and continued. “and then I will get Vilkas and Farkas to try and kill you with their great swords.” She nodded in the direction of the two companion brothers as they sat running a whet stone up and down the huge blades.
“I hope that will be a while from now,” replied Halas as he eyed the massive steel blades. The sun gleamed off of the brilliant steel, and the two brothers nodded in his direction.
Jenessa smiled and told him to take a break and to practice with his bow. She sat leaning against the wall watching his form and critiquing him on this and that. It was as if he was learning something that was overwhelmingly tedious. However he was improving and could see it. The arrows were sailing to the target and before long he had shot 50 arrows. Half of them had found their target.
The shadows were racing ahead of their casters when Faendal returned. Halas put up his bow and the three of them talked for a bit. Jenessa was going to leave to go back to her cabin on the white river. The Eastmarch cabin is actually closer to Whiterun then to Windhelm. Faendal and Halas walked down the hill toward the banner mare where Halas realized he was starving. They ate and Halas told Faendal of what Jenessa had taught him.
“Well Jenessa will be training you in dual wielding every three days. She keeps a brutal regimen so be ready for that.” Faendal took a sip of coffee and then looked back at Halas. “Oh and you still have to chop wood for Hod over at the mill.”
After words the two left the inn and walked down to the stables. “We won’t be heading to Riverwood tonight, “ stated Faendal as he settled into the saddle. “We are headed to the Whiterun Ranger Cabin.” He smiled and guided Rugot down the road and Halas followed. The late afternoon sun fought desperately to keep the cold at bay but it would lose this battle soon. The shadows grew long and night would be upon the plains soon.
The western watchtower cast a long shadow parallel to the road and Halas wondered at its stoic statement on a plain of almost nothing that tall. “We are now officially in unpatrolled territory. Welcome to the wilds of Skyrim,” Faendal looked around at the plains, his ranger talents for spotting the unseen in a vast area of moving shadows, being tested. “The shadows play tricks with your mind at times during this time of day. A fact that us rangers use to our advantage.” He smiled as he urged Rugot off the road and followed a small stream.
Halas nearly fell off his horse when he saw the two mammoth’s being guided by a giant. He had heard of these great creatures but had never seen one. Even from a distance the ground trembled. Close up pebbles would dance on top of boulders at each step of the massive four legged beasts.
“Don’t get too close to those guys.” Faendal warned. Instinctively Halas had assumed the scout position and wondered at the great beasts as they marched slowly by from a distance.
His next site was of the cabin. Faendal had stabled the horses while Halas watched the mammoths and giant walked by. When he got to the cabin Faendal had lit the lanterns around the porch. The structure was small but sturdy. It also looked quite comfortable. Even from a distance he could see that the porch had chairs to watch the great plains. It looked like a home.
Halas realized as Faendal came outside after lighting the interior candles that indeed he was home. It made him feel comfortable and somewhat a part of something. He smiled as he looked at the small archery range and workshop next to the cottage. He had a feeling he was going to like it here. Looking over his shoulder into the fading light however made him realize that much of the world here was more cold and dark then cozy and warm. Faendal waved at him to come inside and for the moment all thoughts of cold and darkness left his mind.
Azir L'Stros
"So much treasure, so little time..."
Great story, as always. A suggestion would be to make the Ranger Cabin in Falkreath to be Lakeview Manor. Just an idea
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 11
Halas woke up to the sound of Faendal cooking upstairs in the kitchen. He had been really tired from the day before and slept so hard he didn’t even remember his dreams. He washed his face in a basin of water and then went upstairs before greeting his master. Faendal had made a stew of various vegetables and threw some cheese in it for good measure. Together with coffee it was a nice way to start the day.
Before he went to bed the night before Halas had asked why the sleeping area was down below instead of on the main floor. Mainly it had to do with security. Should someone get into the cabin it would give its residents time to at least grab some weapons. There is also an inside latch that would break loudly should someone pick the lock and open the door.
As they finished their meal Faendal showed Halas a simple but effective hood he had made from the wolf skin that Halas had killed by lake Ilinata.
“Its very nice! Thank you so much!” Was pretty much all Halas could say. “Now your ears wont get cold from the winds that sometimes blow across these plains.” Stated Faendal as he sipped the last of his coffee.
“We have a lot to do today dear Halas.” Faendal grabbed his bow and waited for Halas to grab his backpack and other gear. The hood fit well and Faendal smiled before unlocking the door and heading outside.
“I took the liberty of feeding the horses this morning and tomorrow while you are working in Riverwood I will pick up some feed for them.” Faendal crouched down and examined some tracks. Halas remembered that they were wolf tracks. “There are a lot of them, “ observed Halas.
“Three to be exact and they are headed east. These tracks are fresh. Lets see if we can find them.” Suddenly Halas remembered what happened the last time they encountered three wolves and his body spoke of hesitation.
Faendal noticed it and put a hand on his shoulder, “No worries Halas I have your back. No harm will come to either of us.”
Before they went hunting Faendal told Halas he needed more arrows. They went back to the work area to make some arrows. Here Halas started a fire and got it going really hot. While they waited for some coals to form Halas split some wood so that they could make some arrow shafts. With his dagger Faendal showed Halas how to whittle down the wood till you had a shaft about the diameter of your pinky. “Too thick and it will not fly right. Too thin and it will be tossed around too much, “ Faendal said thoughtfully as he examined the shaft. Halas went to stir up the fire and noticed a bee hive in a nearby tree.
“Those bees make the honey I use in my coffee,” Faendal smiled. Faendal showed Halas how to use smoke from a smoldering stick to calm the bees down. He reached in with a gloved hand and pulled out some honeycomb that was dripping with honey and several dead bees. He told Halas to put the bees in one of his apothecary satchels. “Good for many things these bees are, “ Faendal replied as he carried the honeycomb inside to store away.
With the coals ready Halas took some Iron ingots and began to heat them up. As they became supple Faendal showed him how to hammer it down to about a centimeter thickness. Using a chisel he began to make a dozen or so triangles from the flattened metal.
Faendal proceeded over to the sharpening stone and with a pair of tongs held the triangle and sharpened two sides of it. Then made a notch on the unsharpened side in the middle where the shaft would be forced into it. Gentle hammer taps on the shaft drove it into the center of the arrowhead. Looking at the finished product Halas smiled. Faendal then attached several chicken feathers to opposite end of the shaft. Using his dagger he made a quick cut into the end where the bowstring would fit and the arrow was done.
It takes about two hours to make two dozen arrows and the pair finished in about half that time. Only because the work was split up. They were not of the highest quality but Halas would get better as time went on.
They went to a clearing where on the other side some targets had been set up and Halas practiced his technique. At first it was bad but as his practice went on his arrows began to find the bullseye more and more. His last two shots went right into the bullseye. “Remember how you hit the center of the target and it will help you the next time, “ Faendal stated as he walked over to pull out the arrows from the targets.
They then set about to track the wolves and along the way Halas harvested some lavender which could be used to make potions that resist magic.
A small pond surrounded by rocks revealed some mudcrabs foraging around its edges. Faendal instructed Halas to assume the scout position and to get into a position where he could fire safely at one of the crabs. “Good target practice, “ Faendal nodded in the direction of the crabs. Quietly Halas pulled out an arrow and notched it. He held the bowstring taught and remembered everything Jenessa and Faendal had showed him. He sighted above the crab in the distance and waited for it to become stationary. It took a minute but his shot was lined up as best he could tell. He let the shot go and allowed the dissipating force to travel through his body in a smooth flowing motion. He watched the arrow zoom toward the crab. It hit the crab with a crunch and the arrow went ricocheting away. “Damn!” Exclaimed Halas. He seemed disappointed that his arrow didn’t go into the crab.
“Keep watching.” Faendal advised.
The crab stumbled around for a minute and then came to rest in the mud and became motionless. “Once the shell is cracked the crab is a goner. Its very difficult to penetrate their shell. That is why your arrow did not go into it. However all that force of the arrow was enough to crack its shell”
They got to the bottom of the rocks and pulled off the claws and extracted the meat which Faendal said he would use to make something good with. Halas also packed away some of the shell which could be ground up into a powder to make a potion that apparently cured diseases.
The snuck up a small hill until they saw the wolves milling around on the top of the knoll. Faendal instructed Halas to get into position on the rocks and wait for his instructions. Faendal stayed crouched on the ground and told Halas to site the nearest wolf. It was a bit of a shot but it was similar to the distance the target at the practice range would be. He remembered how much he had to aim above the target at that height and did just that. He observed the grasses on the hill swaying and aimed a bit into the wind. He felt his heartbeat. He could hear his breathing. His vision narrowed and put all his focus into this one single thing. He had the bowstring at the corner of his mouth. His weight stable on his knee. When he felt the moment was right he let the arrow loose. It flew toward its target, the poison on its tip glistening in the morning sun.
The familiar sound of the bowstring hit his bracer, sending muted vibrations into his forearm. He watched intently as the arrow found its mark. The arrow higher than he wanted it passed through the spine of the wolf. A sharp yelp went up and the wolf tumbled out of view.
However Halas did not have time to savor the moment. The other two were circling towards their position. They did not move in a straight line like the first encounter with a trio of wolves. One of them was under the rocks he was perched on and he heard an arrow shot followed by a yelp. Unseen Faendal had killed the second wolf. He went to notch another arrow but realized his shot would never make it before the last wolf reached Faendal.
Halas watched in awe as the veteran ranger punished the third wolf with an arrow shot that was nearly point blank, the body of the wolf landing a few feet from Faendal.
Halas realized the fear that had gripped him the first time he faced three wolves was much less. Perhaps it was confidence in his position or with his bow. Or perhaps having Faendal with him, whatever the reason Halas realized his fear was much diminished and his confidence soared. For the next hour the two cleaned the skins of the wolves and packed them away. Later Halas would have to clean the skins so that FAendal could sell them at market.
Halas could not help but to continue to smile. “It’s a good feeling isn’t it Halas?”
Halas nodded and continued to skin the wolves. When completed the two ate some cheese and sliced apples and Faendal walked him toward the stream that ran about a hundred yards in front of the cabin. On the other side lived a ferocious saber cat. Halas had fear return to him. “Don’t worry she wont perceive you as a threat as long as you stay on this side of the river. The day will come when you will have to deal with her however.”
The words were like a dark cloud hanging over Halas’s head. The thought of fighting a sabercat with nothing more than a bow and two daggers made him shudder. “You always have a way of dashing my confidence Faendal, “ Halas sighed as the veteran ranger smiled slightly. “I cant have you getting too much confidence.” He stated wryly as the pair moved on.
They then came upon some more mudcrabs but Faendal told Halas to take them on with his daggers. “You need to know what it is like for death to be up close and personal.” He stated flatly.
Halas took a deep breath and unsheathed his daggers. “Avoid the claws. They will take your arm or leg off, “ cautioned Faendal.
Halas took another breath and marched toward the biggest of the crabs. It saw him and slowly moved at him. He used the daggers as Jenessa had taught him to parry the claws but he had to find a weak spot somehow. He managed the knock the crab sideways and decided that going for the eyestalk would be dangerous. He would have to extend himself and the crab could clamp down on his exposed areas. He then saw that whenever the crab extended his claws on his arms there were two areas behind the claw that were sort of soft and leathery.
He let the crab come at his right side and with his left dagger plunged it into the soft area.
The crab retracted and its right claw dragged helplessly on the ground. Faendal smiled to himself, “What a smart lad.” He did the same thing to the left claw and then plunged the dagger inbetween the eye stalks and the crab ceased moving.
Blood was everywhere but Halas was glad it wasn’t his. Before he could relax he heard something next to him and a small crab came to help the bigger crab. It latched onto his foot and as it did Halas drove the tip of one of his daggers into the shell of the crab. His foot ached a bit but other than that he was fine.
“I think you have had enough fighting for one day, “ Faendal stated as he patted his apprentice on the back.
They walked along the stream and Halas spotted some fish including salmon darting through the waters. “Man those salmon look good!” Halas eyed them wishfully. Faendal smiled and walked up to the backpack and pulled out a small leather tube. Inside was a fishing rod that could be broken down and then re-assembled. “Well lets gets some salmon then!” Faendal smiled as he put the pole together.
Halas pulled out some of the insects he had caught and baited the hook. Faendal noted that the young man had fished many times and now felt like he was in his element. Faendal remembered the conversation that Halas had on the way to Ivarstead when they first left Riften. How once a week the orphans were allowed to go fishing. For Halas it was the highlight of his week.
For the next hour Faendal watched as Halas caught two fish. One was a salmon and the other was an Abcean Longfin. Halas didn’t want to leave but the shadows were growing long and it was time to head back to the cabin. He carried the salmon in one hand and when they got near the cabin he gutted it and took the meat inside. Using some salt he put it in a metal cage near the fire where it would slowly dry out. “We can eat this during the winter. Anything we don’t use to eat now will be stored.”
It was an important aspect of living in Skyrim. Many things could kill you here including starvation. One of the rooms downstairs was used exclusively for storing all sorts of provisions. It was cool and dry and that is what you needed to make sure your meats and vegetables did not go bad. Dried meats did not taste as good as regular meats but they provided the nutrients that could sustain anyone. It would take a day or two for the salmon meat to be dry enough to put into storage for the winter.
Faendal then went into one of the barrels and pulled out some potatoes and placed them in the coals of the fire. He also pulled out some beef from one of the barrels and Halas cut the beef into chunks. Together with some leeks, some of the potatoes, and garlic it made for a delicious stew. After the meal they drank some coffee.
“You still have a few hours before bed. Lets make some potions with what you collected. Last time I checked you only had one vial of poison left?” Halas looked through his bag and confirmed that and began to set out the various items he would need to make some potions.
Halas set about grinding up skeever tail, nirnroot, and red mountain flower to start making mildly toxic poisons. He set aside slaughterfish eggs and mora topanella for more potent toxins. He ground up some hawksbeak and chitin to make cure disease potions. After making the green and brown toxic potions he made one that was a pinkish color from tundra cotton and lavender that would help resist magical affects. He ground up purple mountain flower and thistle to make a blue potion that would resist frost. It was much like cooking and he really enjoyed it. Making sure the potions were the right thickness and color and to make sure that the ingredients were evenly distributed reminded him of making the perfect meal. When he was done it was after dark and he was tired.
Halas opened some ale and sipped on it while he cleaned up the alchemy table. He had wanted to read some of the books around the cabin but was too tired. Faendal bid him good night and Halas walked downstairs toward his bed. His feet breathed a sigh of relief as he took off his boots. His head hit the pillow and he felt himself drifting away from an awakeful state.
His thought s were of flowers, arrows, wolves, crabs, and sabercats. The latter almost woke him but the urge to sleep was more powerful.
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Great story, as always. A suggestion would be to make the Ranger Cabin in Falkreath to be Lakeview Manor. Just an idea
Well the mod I use has the Falkreath Ranger Cabin south of Half Moon Mill near a stream. I think Lakeview Manor is in the Rift if I remember correctly. Thank you for the support
Wow that is awesome. It is a fun build to play with for sure. Challenge accepted! I will do my best to keep you all updatedBTW this inspired me to make a ranger type character. This is not a template I've done before. Reading this motivates me so now you have added pressure to maintain this journal
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 12
The next few weeks would be a blur of training and rapid learning. As the crops continued their continued upward march and the month of Second Seed traveled past Skyrim, Halas learned at a rapid pace many of the skills he would need to be a ranger. Most ranger’s apprentices come to the Imperial Rangers with some skills, however Halas has started from scratch. His best skills are sneaking and lockpicking. These can be important however the main skills of the ranger are still not at apprentice level. It was during this time that Faendal wanted Halas to get to a basic level of apprentice.
Faendal was worried that Halas would not learn fast enough and that come time for his trial next month he would not be ready. He hoped that was not the case. Talon however was a very picky leader and only wanted the best in the Imperial Rangers. Potential to do better was not a skill that Talon considered. Halas had a lot of work to do between now and next month if he was to be the Ranger that Faendal hoped he would one day become.
Halas however was not exposed to this urgency and was learning at what he considered a comfortable pace. When he awoke, after his rather successful day before, he was eager to get back to Riverwood to help the townspeople. He missed Alvor and Hod and wanted to learn more about crafting. He saw the way Alvor effortlessly created amazing items from basic items, and wanted to learn that craft. He would love to be a blacksmith but he couldn’t be a blacksmith apprentice and a ranger’s apprentice.
Faendal bid Halas goodbye and Halas made the journey to Riverwood. On the way he passed one of the massive mammoths that lived near the cabin. They seemed pretty docile but judging by their tusks that was probably a pretty naive assessment.
He arrived in Riverwood and began the mundane task of chopping wood. However mundane it seemed there was a degree of concentration that had to be used to connect properly. As he worked he even began to chop wood with his eyes closed trying to see if he could do it. It seemed to be successful but he preferred being able to see his target. By lunch he had cut half a cord of wood.
He wondered over to a nearby fence and leaned on it looking around at the beauty that surrounded Riverwood. It was a foggy day but not too cold. He enjoyed the village as it had its own rhythm. He had a lunch of stew and bread with cheese and set down on a great stump to take a break.
While there he noticed a different kind of mushroom he had never seen before. He packed it up and took care to place it in one of his apothecary satchels. As he enjoyed his break and the attempts of the sun to break through the fog, he noticed that the children of the village were petting and grooming Suriel. Clearly the horse enjoyed this pampering. As he watched the horse, Suriel turned his gaze toward Halas and wiggled his ears. Halas smiled to himself and Suriel nodded his head up and down. There was a bond growing between Halas and Suriel.
After lunch he went over to Alvor who bought some of the pelts that Faendal had cured in the basement of the cabin. Alvor paid good gold for the pelts as they could be made into many things. Alvor taught him the art of making studded leather armor. Rangers would not use it because it clinked as the iron studs hit each other, but it was a good armor. Right now Halas was working on saving enough pelts to make his fur armor complete. He was off to a good start with the wolves he had killed but he would need more pelts to make a fur armor set.
The rest of the day in Riverwood Halas spent crafting some iron swords and some iron daggers. They were a vast improvement from his earlier work but when he showed them to alvor he frowned. “Melt them down and try again.”
Defeated but determined Halas continued to improve his skills. His studded leather armor he made was not the best and Alvor had him tear that down as well. “I break more stuff down than I make, “ Halas thought to himself. He carefully cut the seams and pulled out most of the leather.
Halas spent the night at the inn and in the morning took the short trip to Whiterun to continue his training with Janessa
The speed of his one handed skills was much faster now. Slowly he was moving fast enough to make it seem almost like real time. Jenessa told him that in good time his speed would be full. It was a dance and to learn a dance you had to start slow and simple. She came at him with sword and shield and even though the sword was dull it would still hurt. He could use the blades to parry some of the attacks but Jenessa showed him that against a living opponent it would be hard. Halas was unable to penetrate the shield wall that Jenessa would throw up. She easily parried his attacks with the short practice sword. It was frustrating and it began to show on Halas’s face.
“You have to stay one step ahead of your opponent Halas, “ she told him as his winded attempts to break the wall failed.
Jenessa studied the boy and realized that even with this basic training he was learning fast. She decided to deliberately leave a weakness for him to exploit. Every opponent had it. She drew her shield across her body each time he attacked.
After a relentless series of drills halas saw the opportunity and hooked the shield with the left dagger after feinting left and plunged the dagger into the left arm of Janessa. Of course he was using a practice sword and it would leave a bruise.
Jenessa smiled and the two continued. Each time she would change the weakness to exploit. Halas was beginning to learn how to size up an opponent. He became faster at learning but still made mistakes. By the end of the session he was covered in bruises and thoroughly exhausted.
“A bruise now is better than a stab wound later,” she smiled at Halas. Halas knew that ultimately the battle would end in the death of himself or his opponent. It was a terrifying thought but for now he put it to the back of his mind. It was lunch time and he ate heartily.
After lunch he worked on his marksmanship and focused on increasing the speed of his arrows. He knew that he would have to perform better to be a true ranger. Janessa pulled out her bow as he shot away and began to shoot at the wall next to halas. He cowered and ducked for cover and Jenessa scolded him. “By the gods how are you going to kill those enemies over there if you cant take a little fire of your own? You think your enemies are just going to stand around if they see you?” Halas looked down at the targets and then took up his bow again. He took a deep breath and muttered “I was hoping to stay hidden.”
Eventually he was able to fire off shots while being shot at but his accuracy was terrible. After hours of this Jenessa told him they would work on it again another day. The sun was racing toward the west and Halas needed to get back to the cabin so that he could do some chores before bed.
Suriel seemed to sense that Halas had a hard day and neighed his approval to his young master as they headed for the cabin. The young man and his horse were getting close together and it felt good for Halas to have a stalwart companion.
Halas smiled and rubbed the horses neck after giving him green apple. It seemed to be his favorite snack.
They made it to the cabin and Halas talked to Faendal about his day and Faendal seemed to think things were going well. Halas used a jug of troll fat to work on making sure his armor was properly maintained and took some time to read a bit before bed. Faendal had already made dinner and afterwords Halas crashed into bed exhausted.
The next day Faendal told them they were going to follow the river a ways downstream. As they readied for the day they left the horses in the stable and proceeded on foot.
On the other side of a small hill near the cabin was a massive stone slab of sorts. “Is this a dragon burial mound?” Halas asked in awe of the ancient site. “Indeed it is. There are several others around whiterun province,” Faendal stated as he searched the area for anything trouble wise. “I wonder what it would be like to have seen dragons?” Halas wondered as they descended back toward the river. “I think you would need some new underwear, “ Faendal laughed. “Are there any left?” Halas continued with a great curiosity. “No they were all slain by the blades hundreds of years ago.”
Faendal told Halas to crouch and that over a small hill was a wolf. Halas knew what to do and Slowly crept up on the beast. Unseen the wolf made an easy target. A good clean kill and Halas nodded his head slowly as he was beginning to understand things better. After an hour of skinning and prepping the skin the pair moved further down the small stream.
There in the water Halas saw a flash that was unlike any fish he had seen. But instinctively he knew what it was. “Slaughterfish, “ he said softly. Faendal nodded and pulled out his bow. “Lets try a tandem shot. We both release at the same time.” Halas was curious about it but understood. The trick with a tandem shot was coordinating your timing. It went pretty well although Halas was a tad bit late. However both arrows found their mark and the slaugherfish spun around in the water.
After extracting the meat and scales Halas asked what they scales could be used for. “The slaughterfish scales have the same properties as the egg.” Halas nodded and found a nearby nest and took some of the eggs. “Remember to always leave some behind. Taking all the eggs means no more slaughterfish,” Faendal said as he smiled at his apprentice.
Nearby on a small hill Faendal spotted more wolves. Halas shook his head and wondered how the ranger could see such things at such a distance. He hoped that one day he would be able to do the same.
The three wolves began to come into site as the two crept up to near them. Here Halas found a nice rock to place himself and a clean line of sight on one. It would be a tricky shot because the closest wolf was facing away. “Remember your poison will kill the wolf if you don’t get a kill shot. But you want a kill shot,” Faendal advised as he pulled out one of his skyforge steel broadheads.
Halas shot hit the wolf square in the butt and he groaned with the terrible shot. The wolf staggered around reaching its head around and snapping the arrow shaft before falling over.
The other two charged and Halas got off a second shot that somehow passed through the lower jaw of the second wolf. The animal enraged tried to attack Faendal but fell dead. The third wolf was already dead by Faendal’s hand.
Surprisingly Halas was not scared. He did not realize it till after the fight but he was intensely concentrated on the task at hand. He realized his skills were no match for a wolf. He smiled as he realized this and his master could see it on his face. No conversation was needed. They skinned the carcasses and then Halas went down to do some fishing while Faendal looked around.
He managed to catch a medium sized salmon and they skinned it. After eating they headed back toward the cabin to do some chores and clean the skins properly.
The next morning Halas headed back to Riverwood to continue working with Hod and Alvor. He was slowly widdling away the cords of wood the village would need for the next few months and making coin while he was at it. Alvor purchased some of the pelts that had been tanning in the cabin and gave Halas 63 septims for each pelt. He also continued to work on making studded armor and was eagerly telling Alvor about his hunting of wolves the day before. Alvor smiled to himself as he had seen the youth rapidly evolve to something no one would have thought possible.
After a restful sleep he headed back to Whiterun where Jenessa continued to run him through the basics of one handed combat. He was still not very fast but his pace of learning was phenomenal. They sat down together and talked about what they had learned and reflected on it for a bit. Jenessa felt like a little more training and Halas would be a worthy opponent.
He arrived back at the cabin around dusk and fell asleep soon after. Jenessa was working him hard and his body ached. However the next morning Faendal said they were going to walk to the great waterfall at the end of the plains of Whiterun. Halas was excited to see it. The most memorable part of the trip was of course the waterfall but also the killing of his first fox. The elusive creature had frustrated Halas up to this point and he was quite proud to have finally taken one down. It wasn’t a kill shot and the poison worked to kill the beast. They also came across some Canus root which apparently when combined with other ingredients helped focus your vision. This would be a great boon to any archer. He gathered some of the root and packed it away.
Halas had some time for fishing but they slowly worked their way back to the cabin by the afternoon. Here Halas dried the salmon out in the cage near the fire and prepared for another night in the cabin.
In the morning he had slept in by accident and hurriedly ran upstairs to find Faendal holding a cloak made from wolf pelts. “I let you sleep so that I could finish making this, “ he smiled brightly. Halas looked at the cloak and marveled at it. He recognized some of the distinct patches of fur on some of the wolves he had killed.
“It will be much warmer than what you are wearing now.” Faendal said pointing out the obvious.
So he headed back to Riverwood and Whiterun for the next two days. He was in a rhythm of training that had lasted several weeks and it was paying off. He felt more confident about fighting and by the time he reached Jenessa again this time he felt something inside of him that made him more in touch with what he was doing. Something clicked and Halas realized that much of what he was doing was somehow instinctual. How he gripped the daggers, the feel of his finger on the bowstring, being aware of how much noise your feet made, it all seemed somehow natural.
Jenessa sat down with Halas before he headed back to the cabin and they talked at length about various things. His training was far from complete, but he was advancing quickly. She took him through a series of breathing exercises that he was to use while fighting. "You must be aware of yourself and your opponent or you will be helping your opponent by not paying attention to yourself." It was confusing a bit for Halas but he felt he understood the main idea: Proper body control helps win.
Before he left to return to the cabin, Jenessa handed him a note to give to Faendal. It had her seal on it. He bid her goodbye and in a soft drizzle urged Suriel home to the cabin. The warmth of the cabin was welcome after his thirty minute ride in the rain. Had he not had a horse it would have taken him over an hour, maybe two to reach the cabin.
When he got inside he handed the note to Faendal and he opened it carefully. He smiled as he read it. It was then that Faendal went to get something that would truly make Halas feel closer to being a ranger.
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Thank you very much. I am grateful for your support in this endeavor
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 13
“This is a recurve bow specifically for hunting. It has been affectionately named the bow of the hunt.” Halas took the bow as Faendal handed it to him. It was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship. Halas noticed the small tic marks on one side and asked what they were.
Faendal smiled, “those are the marks of my previous apprentice. Jenessa put those there to tell me how much game she had killed by the bow.” To Halas it looked like over fifty marks on the wood running up from the grip.
“Tomorrow you will hopefully start adding tickmarks. “ Faendal crossed his arms and nodded at the bow, “the curves give it more power without making the draw to difficult. The tradeoff is the distance. It isn’t much good over 50 meters. But it has an a great punch below that.” Halas nodded and realized it would be very good because most of his prey were going to be 25 meters or less.
Faendal had a moment of beaming pride as he remembered the day he gave Jenessa the same bow. The bow had many stories to tell and Faendal was sure that its new owner would use it well.
Halas was doing some nightly maintenance on his armor such as rubbing oil into any parts that might not be totally waterproof. He rubbed troll fat on anything that seemed like it could soak up more oil. When he was complete he was ready for bed when Faendal handed Halas a new bowstring. Made of fine linen it would do wonders for his accuracy and power. The previous bowstring on his long bow had been made of rawhide.
Each night a ranger would unstring his bow to preserve the string and the bow. If it was wet this was imperative to do unless you had to use it. A wet bow and bowstring would ultimately cause the bow to warp which would affect its power in a negative way. By doing this it allowed the bow to recover much of its original shape right down to the individual wood grain.
Halas let out a yawn as he realized his eyelids were getting heavy. He finished the ale next to him in a big gulp and headed to his bed downstairs. He would sleep soundly.
The next morning the pair were up early preparing for what hoped to be a successful day of hunting. Halas restrung his bow and tested the new string. It felt really good. He then met up with Faendal who was cooking upstairs. He had prepared a cheesy stew that was heavy and help them stave off the hunger of the morning.
The air was crisp and even though it was early summer there was always a bite in the air in the morning in Skyrim. Two deer that had been grazing nearby bolted away at the sight of the rangers. It was just now dawn and the two headed out to an area that had a lot of game. Early summer meant many animals were taking advantage of the fresh sprouts of grass that blanketed the plains around Whiterun. There were large numbers of deer scattered around the plains but they only were here until the autumn when they would work their way south through the mountain passes and into warmer areas of Tamriel. It was an annual migration that was very predictable but also meant a short window to get the meats you needed to get through the winter of Skyrim.
Halas saw the animals bound away but Faendal looked at him. “Follow me I know where there are more.” Halas eagerly followed his master and he found some tracks on the ground that were fresh. They headed west and that’s where they went.
Halas followed the tracks now, Faendal gently guiding him to the intricacies of tracking. He looked for the tilled appearance of the earth as the animal would lift its foot. Were the clumps of dirt damp or dry? Did they crumble easily when you picked them up. These were all things you looked for to determine the age of the tracks. It was not an exact science but you could get a lot of information from the tracks. They were tracking a deer that was very close by. Judging by the tracks, Halas assumed, the animal was close by.
Over the next rise near some rocks his suspicion was confirmed. Faendal nodded at his apprentice and he quietly withdrew an arrow from his quiver. Each arrow head wrapped in a piece of rawhide to keep it from rattling. The air was still as the morning mist was not moving. Halas saw the deer with its great antlers look around but either did not see the two crouched in the weeds or did not care.
He coated the arrow with his most toxic poison. A noxious fluid created from the mora topinella mushroom and slaughterfish eggs. Faendal watched from behind as his apprentice prepared his shot with great patience. Halas pulled the bowstring back the taughtness of the bowstring becoming a comfortable companion. He was less than 15 meters from the deer. Unless something went terribly wrong it was an easy shot. However he knew that you had to treat all shots the same. Halas’s eyes scanned the grasses and he noted no breeze whatsoever. He would not have to adjust his shot. He slowed his breathing and felt his breath on the back of his hand as he held the bowstring up to the corner of his mouth. For a moment the deer the shifted and Halas held his shot. When it looked down Halas loosed his arrow.
By the time the deer heard the sound of the bowstring hitting the bracer the projectile was already enroute and would be very close to the target. The arrow found its mark in the ribcage and punched through easily. The deer took off but quickly stumbled and fell down. There it stayed. The breathing stopping just a few seconds after the arrow impact. It was a kill shot but the adrenaline of the beast enabled it to run a way a short distance.
Halas walked up to the deer and saw that the head of the arrow had come off inside the body of the deer. A great gush of blood came out when he pulled the arrow shaft out. “You hit the heart. It was a quick and merciful death.” Faendal looked down softly at the magnificent deer.
Halas waited for Faendal and the two began to skin the beast, the cold morning air filling with the hot steam from the freshly dead carcass. Halas noted that as he skinned the deer the warmth of the animal made his hands warm up. It was an eerie thing to feel the warmth of the animal finally fade away. All told they had a good chunk of venison.
Halas would take most of it to Riverwood or Rorikstead and give it to the innkeeper to preserve so that he may sell it in the hard months of winter. There is an entire economy that revolves around food and the supplying of places for winter
Halas would kill two more deer that day and they would spend the entire morning skinning the carcasses, and pulling the meat off. It was hard work and by the time they were done it was time for lunch.
Halas did some fishing and managed to snag a nice salmon. After some other fish stole his bait it was time to head back to the cabin and spend the afternoon racking the skins and drying the meats. They talked about a variety of things and by the time they got back to the cabin it was several hours past noon.
Upon arrival Faendal noticed a note punched into a wood beam near the door with a dagger. The dagger had the emblem of a deer on it. “It seems the Ranger of Falkreath has a message for us, “ stated Faendal as he removed the note and read it.
Halas looked at the wood beam and noticed that there were few dagger marks on the wood, “Is this usually how messages are delivered?” Faendal was reading the letter and then shook his head, “No we typically meet up once a month and then once a year all of meet at the summer solstice.” He rubbed the note thoughtfully between his fingers and walked inside. Halas naturally followed. Faendal sat down and placed the dagger of the Falkreath dagger in his belt and let out a sigh. “Apparently Aetia had urgent news and wishes to meet at the Frostfruit Inn in Rorikstead.” Halas was internally excited but outside he managed to keep a facade of seriousness. “You wont be heading to Riverwood tomorrow. Instead we might just have a very interesting day tomorrow.”
Faendal told Halas that they were to pack whatever they might need food wise for a week worth of trekking. It was always standard procedure to pack a weeks worth of food no matter what. Once they were done, and the rest of their work from prepping the skins of the deer that Halas had killed, they sat down to eat and then went to bed so that they could get up at dawn and head out to Rorikstead.
On the way Halas spotted some Wolves near some rocks and Faendal told him to take them on by hand. “I don’t think I am ready for that Faendal, “ he stated with a low tone. “Do you really think you will ever be ready the first time you encounter a beast without your bow?” Faendal retorted. Halas grimaced at the thought but dosed his daggers with poison. “Use the animals against each other Halas.”
Halas thought about what Faendal had said and if both wolves charged him he might be able to move in a way that could cause the wolves to maybe block each other or at the least get in the way. Then again wolves were pack hunters and knew their place in the hunting hierarchy.
Halas took a deep breath and diligently moved toward the wolves. He could hear their warning growls and he took a deep breath and focused on the training and meditation that Jenessa had taught him. “How is your opponent going to strike you? All life fears death.” Her voice seemed to echo inside his brain as the wolves charged toward him.
As the lead wolf prepared to charge, Halas sidestepped and the animal went passed him. It was a brief respite but enough to catch the second wolf off guard. Following on the heels of his packmate it was baffled by the sudden miss of the target. It slowed down and turned but before it could launch an attack Halas plunged one of his daggers into the wolves neck behind the ear.
He withdrew the knife only to see that the first wolf had pounced and he drove the dagger through the lower jaw and out the top of the nose. The momentum of the animal carried him backwards onto the ground and here Halas used his left hand to inflict another deadly neck wound.
Unscathed but somehow still focused Halas looked at the carnage he had created. It was an important moment. It was here that he realized he could go toe to toe with one of the feared denizens of Skyrim.
After skinning the animals Halas remounted Suriel and they continued their journey toward Rorikstead. It was a small village but was important because it provided many of the fruits and vegetables to the city of Whiterun. They entered the Frostfruit Inn and here Halas met Aetia. She was the ranger of Falkreath. After taking a corner table and being the only people in the inn Aetia talked about why she had come.
It turns out that one of the suppliers of potions for the Rangers, particulary poisons, and a master alchemist in many regards had not shown up to the Falkreath ranger’s cabin to deliver some potions that Aetia had requested. She had waited a week before consulting Faendal but she felt she couldn’t wait any longer.
Valus the alchemist and Faendal had gone back to the early days of the Rangers and he knew that Valus never was late or missed a delivery. It was highly unusual. Faendal rubbed his chin as the innkeeper brought over some coffee and the trio eagerly sipped as Aetia continued her story.
Faendal was one of the few rangers that actually knew the habits of Valus , including where he lived most of the time. He had a small cabin in the Rift and enjoyed traveling to the various holds looking for new ingredients and selling his potions.
Aetia said she went to the alchemist in Falkreath, a redguard named Zaria, and she said that a rather despondent man was looking for Valus for a potion to help a rare disease. Zaria had asked if she could help the man but apparently he only wanted Valus.
Faendal was leaning forward now, the gears in his head turning as if to contemplate what could have transpired here. He began to wonder if this man may have done something to Valus but there was no way to tell.
As the three continued to work through their coffee and the innkeeper brought more Aetia finally admitted she had to turn to Faendal because her investigation had gone cold.
Faendal began to systematically go over things in his head. He knew that Valus would sometimes sell his potions to hunters in the area. He knew of some hunters that would come to the plains of whiterun but also stayed in a modest shack near half -moon mill. He decided that the three would head there to try and figure out what happened.
Faendal told Aetia and Halas what they were going to do and the three set out for the Half Moon Mill. Faendal had decided to leave the horses there and travel on foot so that they could make their approach to the area quietly.
As they walked through the great evergreen forest that made up the region of Falkreath hold it was hard not to appreciate the stateliness of the trees and the possible dangers they might conceal. As they walked Halas picked various types of ingredients and warily looked around for his mind remembered how Faendal had said each tree could conceal a man they were so wide. It gave him a bit of chills. On top of that it was raining.
Faendal pulled his cloak around his body as did Aetia as a steady rain began to fall. They found the Hunter’s cabin, which was occupied by two Redguard hunters. When Faendal described the alchemist Valus the pair instantly knew him. “We traded some meat for some of his potions,” one of them stated. The other one nodded and added that the alchemist’s potions were some of the purest out there and did not taint the meat.
Faendal told the pair that the alchemist had gone missing and they both looked at each other. Faendal took that as they knew something as yet untold. Halas spent the time warming his hands by the fire and Aetia sat on a nearby bench. She heard everything but chose to allow Faendal the lead here. Halas was also listening but also was learning from his master.
“He asked if we had seen any areas with interesting alchemical ingredients and we told him that there were some nirnroot and mushrooms growing nearby in a stream by half moon mill,” contributed the female hunter.
Aetia looked at Faendal. “I know exactly where that it is.” Faendal smiled at Aetia. “And so do I.”
After sharing some food with the hunters and paying for some dried venison the trio moved back to the road that the mill was on. The stream that the hunters were referring to was a drainage for part of lake Ilinata. Faendal groaned, the rain was going to cause problems if they had to track Valus or anyone else.
As they came upon the creek they followed it down and Halas grew frustrated as the mud was churned up all over the place. Faendal put his hand on his apprentice’s shoulder and pointed ahead: mudcrabs. There were three of them and Faendal told Halas to go deal with them. As he neared them the territorial crabs came after him but having learned extensively from his first encounter the mudcrabs were easily dispatched with his bow and with his daggers.
Aetia whispered to Faendal as they watched Halas put the crabs down in rapid succession, “Didn’t you get him from an orphanage like a month ago?” She asked as she stared at Halas. “Yes but he comes from a fine stock of rangers” Faendal smiled and Aetia nodded. “The first time I saw him I really thought his parents had come back from the grave. He seems to have the best of their traits, “ she said as she brushed off some water that was clinging to the lip of her hood. Faendal nodded and then walked over to where Halas was still looking for any tracks.
Any footprints would have either been washed away by the rains or trampled by the mudcrabs. After a short descent they found a small encampment with a firepit and tent. Valus’s journal was on a nearby stump and through the wet pages it talked about how this area had such unique vegetation and other rather detailed descriptions. Valus wanted to know why certain plants grew in certain areas and what other animals were dependent on them. He dedicated his lift to unraveling the truth in the natural world.
“Something is amiss here. Valus would never leave all this stuff out like this if it was raining.”
Faendal pulled out his bow and the three began to stealthily move forward to the edge of the rocks. There standing below was a sight that was unbelievable to Halas but cautionary to Faendal.
Next to the small pond were two what seemed like spindly wooden like creatures walking slowly. They glowed and had a small swarm of insects buzzing around them. Also present were a few wolves and a deer. Amazingly the deer were not being attacked by the wolves.
In the middle of the small pond was the body of a man in a black robe. Faendal backed away and took a deep breath. “I think we just found out what happened to Valus.” Faendal frowned and looked sad but then his ranger instinct kicked in. He began a plan of attack that would let Jenessa and himself coordinate a flank attack at all the potential beasts below.
Faendal knew that Spriggans had the power to control beasts. Much like woodelves but more powerful. Faendal knew that his apprentice would not be up for the task of the fighting that would surely happen. Instead he was going to have Halas perched high above the pond and fire a shot into the nearest spriggan. This would force her to take the long way up to the apprentices position and spring the trap. Faendal planned on pouncing on the spriggans and anything else that came up the hill through the brush and trees and sneak attacking them.
There were plenty of risks and Spriggans were not to be trifled with. Two spriggans were certainly not anything to be trifled with. Faendal and Jenessa moved down the hill and were shielded by rocks from a waterfall and the thick brush. Halas moved to the edge of a cliff and looked for a spot for a clear shot and a place where he could take the scout position.
He can’t remember exactly why he wanted to get closer but the result was the same. As he braced one of his feet on the slippery rocks near the waterfall, he was so intently watching the Spriggans below that he did not realize there was a slick moss under foot. It happened quickly. As he put all his weight on his left foot it shot out from under his body and he lost his balance. He would have fallen off the cliff if there had not been a small sapling next to him. To preserve his life he dropped the bow and grabbed the small tree. Halas feared it would not hold him and he used it to keep his body from sliding down to the pond below. “Oh gods!” was all he managed to say in a very loud whisper.
He heard the shrieks of anger below as the spriggans had spotted him. They were running around to his position and he knew he had to get down to where Faendal and Jenessa were to help them in any way.
He pulled himself up and realized his bow had gone clattering down the rocks and into the water below. He groaned but pulled out his dagger and nearly sprinted toward where Jenessa and Faendal were.
He arrived just in time to see Faendal taking on the spriggan and a deer when suddenly a wolf came bounding around a tree and leaped toward Faendal. Jenessa got a shot off and hit the wolf in the ribs while it was airborne but the weight of the beast slammed into Faendal and knocked him sideways.
Everyone stopped at the site of that. Halas ran forward but wasn’t sure what to do. He feared getting in the way or worse yet getting killed. “When does someone simply just jump into a desperate fight like this?” He thought in his mind as he watched the chaos in front of him.
Something clicked and he charged forward and stabbed the deer in the neck. The spriggan and Aetia were going at it. Aetia managed to avoid the swipes of the claws of the nature guardian however the insects were intent on causing misery to Aetia. They crawled over her armor looking for a spot to get in and inflict damage. Finally finding her face Aetia parried an attack by the spriggan and plunged a dagger into the taproot causing her to shriek and fall over.
The second Spriggan was racing toward Faendal but he had recovered from the wolf body slam and now, with lightning speed, sent an arrow careening into the chest of the second spriggan. She pitched forward from her momentum but wound up dead a few feet from Faendal.
Faendal raced over to Aetia and with his dagger scrapped the stinging bees off of aetias armor while she cleared her head and face of them. Breathless all three sat down to recover from their ordeal and to assess what happened.
“Where is your bow Halas?” Faendal asked with a look of seriousness on his face. Halas groaned and told of how he slipped trying to set up a shot. Faendal nodded and wiped his hands on his pants making sure there weren’t any more bees to sting him, “You sacrificed your position for a better shot.” He sighed and then looked at his apprentice sternly, “Sometimes its best to take the shot your given than to take the one you want.”
Halas was quiet as the two senior rangers inspected the spriggans in the steady rain. Faendal pulled out the taproot which had an eerie glow to it. He also squeezed some sap from the wood and told halas to put it in one of his apothecary bags. “The sap strenghthens our bows and the taproot has many magical qualities.” He said as he handed the items back to Halas to put in his backpack.
Faendal looked at Aetia and she said she was ok other than some stings. She had already rubbed an ointment made from troll fat and garlic on her neck to neutralize the toxins.
Halas had been to this place before. Not the location they were standing at but rather this mental state. He felt it after he panicked with the wolves the first time. The same feeling had come rushing back. But this time Faendal didn’t tell him it would be ok. It was up to Halas to learn and adjust. Faendal was not going to continue to re-assure his apprentice every time he made a mistake. Halas knew what he did and it was totally preventable.
He held his chin up and followed the other rangers down to the water’s edge.
The body of the alchemist Valus had been in the water over a week. There were deep slashes all over his body. They had all the hallmarks of a spriggan slashing but the cuts were a little smooth for that. Spriggan attacks left their victims with a green poison in the wound as well but this was not there. Of course soaking in the water for a week would wash away most if not all of that.
“Damn what a way to go,” Aetia said softly. Faendal had pulled the body to the edge of the water and looked around for anything else but there was nothing. “I don’t think the Spriggans killed him, “ Faendal said shockingly as the others looked at the body. He continued, “The slash marks aren’t right and why would he just come stumbling down here into this spriggan den?” Aetia shrugged and Halas decided to be quiet. “Valus is too smart for this. He would not just walk into a trap like this. Besides he could defend himself. He was a powerful mage.”
Faendal was perplexed and looked around for scorch marks in case Valus had used fire to attack his foe. Faendal then went up to the bodies of the Spriggans and looked under the jagged wooden claws of the creatures for flesh. He didn’t find any but still remained skeptical.
“Did Zaria say anthing about this despondant man that came to her?” Faendal asked Aetia. “You think he killed Valus?” Aetia questioned.
“It’s the only thing we have left to go on, “ Faendal sighed and looked at the scene. The rain was steadily coming down and everyone was tired and sore. Aetia raised her eyebrows, “She did say that he said he was from Riften.” Faendals own eyebrows went up. The gears of his mind were turning again and he realized he needed to pursue this further. The first place would have to be the small shack where Valus lived. But to leave his Jarl’s hold he would need permission from Talon. At the moment everyone needed a drink and something warm.
The trio headed back to half-moon mill to pick up the horses and then they headed back to the Falkreath ranger’s cabin. Inside Faendal decided on a plan for the next day. The ale tasted good and was a welcome feeling after what had happened that day.
“Tomorrow I have to ride to Solitude to find Talon and tell him of what has happened and give him my thoughts on how our master alchemist may have been murdered.” He took another sip of the ale and continued, “I need you to go tell the Jarl what happened and fill out a death report.” Aetia nodded and rubbed her hand up and down the mug. “It is likely that Talon will travel to Riften to find out if Halas and I have discovered anything. In that case make sure he has all the supplies he needs for the journey.”
Halas looked at his master and he looked at him. “Halas I want you to go to Whiterun and apprise Jenessa of the what happened and what I am up to. You are meeting her there tomorrow for training and that’s exactly what I want you to do.” He then took a deep gulp from the tankard and told Halas that he was to wait at the bannered mare for him to return.
Faendal sighed and took out his bedroll but Aetia convinced him to sleep in the bed instead. Halas slept near the fire and was charged with keeping it stoked throughout the night. This was a rare thing for three rangers to be in the same place. However in the morning that would all change as they each would mount their horses and take off in different directions.
ultimatedovahkiin
Now's not the time for fear. That comes later.
Another great chapter! I am eager to see what will happen with Faendal in Riften. As for the profile thing, you're welcome!
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Thank you very much.
Hope to get the next installment updated by midweek
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 14
The next morning was filled with much activity as all three rangers prepared to go their separate ways. Outside the morning was crisp and a light fog blanketed the forest. The events of the day before almost felt like a dream to Halas. As he finished his coffee and bid farewell he remembered that he was supposed to wait for Faendal at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun.
All three rangers rode to the road and then split up. Aetia headed toward Falkreath to tell the Jarl of the death of Valus, Faendal raced off to Solitiude, and Halas to Whiterun.
Halas moved at a steady trot in which Suriel seemed to like. However near Riverwood he stopped and began to kick one of his back legs. Halas hopped down, “What is it boy?” He walked and looked that every time he lifted his foot the horseshoe was bouncing around on its nails. “Damn. I guess we have to make a stop and get that fixed.”
It was the first time that had happened but he knew that was a possibility. He got to Riverwood in time to see Alvor loading some ore into the smelter. He looked up and smiled, “Good to see you young Halas. How are you?” he smiled affectionately. “I am on my way to Whiterun but my horse seems to have some problems with his horseshoe.”
Alvor took a look and nodded his head. He proceeded to hold the leg of the horse and pry off the the old shoe and put a new one on. In a few minutes Halas was ready to go again. “Check those other shoes when you get a chance and if you need them reshoed come on back!” Alvor was enthusiastic in his response and partially just wanted to see Halas.
Halas bid his farewell and continued to Whiterun. Here he met up with Jenessa who had not heard about the death of Valus. She was intrigued at what happened and seem to think that Faendal was onto it. “Valus was not a stupid elf. He would not walk into a den of spriggans like that, “ her response echoed that of Faendals and with good reason.
“To make sure that some assassin doesn’t get the jump on you lets get going on your training, “ she said as she changed the subject into here and now. The morning training was tough as usual. Halas started out going through the basic moves with a dummy and Jenessa would point out what he was doing right and wrong. Halas was moving at full speed and focused intently on his technique and footwork. The real life battles he had faced with wolves had given him valuable insight into how to fight with two blades.
Just as his confidence was growing and after a break to get some water and stretch one of the companinon members named Vilkas walked up to Halas and introduced himself. “I am Vilkas and Jenessa here wants me to try and kill you with my sword.” His smile stretched across his face and there was something peculiar about the man. It seemed he could be quite good with the sword.
Jenessa and Vilkas went through a series of spars with wooden swords showing Halas how he could deal with an opponent with such a massive weapon. “This kind of fighter is the norm in Skyrim, not the exception, “ she said with a blunt realistic tone.
Halas watched as Vilkas pulled out his massive two handed sword and prepared to strike Jenessa. She rolled out of the way or even lunged forward depending on which way the sword was moving. “Best to get in close and drive your dagger up through the armor. An opponent with such a big weapon is deadly if you stay back. You have to close the distance, or make them turn a lot. Let them wear themselves out a bit and stay on your toes.” She sheathed her daggers and nodded at Vilkas. Vilkas picked up the practice sword and Halas his daggers and attempted to get in close to the veteran warrior. Suffice it to say that Halas was covered with bruises after unsuccessfully dealing with Vilkas.
Frustrated Halas moved to practice his marksmanship. One of the things that Jenessa did not tell Halas was the companion was a master at two handed combat. There would be virtually no opponents that could wield a two handed weapon as adeptly as Vilkas. As Halas trained against the best he would be better prepared when he faced an average opponent. Jenessa did not want him to know this so that he would be wary of any opponent that carried a two handed weapon.
He pulled out his bow determined to do better in this aspect than he had against Vilkas and his massive sword. Halas began to think that there was always someone better than him no matter how hard he trained. It was frustrating to him because with all the training he felt like he should be better than his opponents. Jenessa however knew that keeping Halas humble would likely save his life.
Later in the afternoon, after finishing training, Jenessa and Halas went to the bannered mare for some much needed food and drink. As the two devoured a tasty beef stew Faendal came into the inn.
Halas looked up at his master and so did Jenessa. “So what did Talon say?” Asked Jenessa quietly. Faendal looked at Jenessa and put his hand on Halas’s shoulder, “We leave for Riften in the morning.”
Faendal went on to add that he had just returned from the Jarl’s before coming to the inn and that Jarl Balgruff was ok with him leaving for a few days. He looked at Jenessa as he continued and smiled wryly, “and he said it was fine that you cover both eastmarch and Whiterun while I was gone.”
Jenessa smiled at that, “Its good that you came to someone as talented as me, however the Jarl may want me to be his new ranger, “ she smiled back. Faendal nodded at the jab but Jenessa had to get one more line in, “Oh and I hear he likes dark elves on his court.” She took another bite of her stew no doubt smiling to herself. Faendal nodded again and understood the reference to Iraleth, the steward of Whiterun.
The three left the Bannered mare and made it to the stables where the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows. It was later and later that the shadows came as this was the end of second seed and with the month of midyear coming soon the sun would reach its peak intensity. As they rode past the farms that surrounded the base of Whiterun it was sort of surreal watching farmers working the land this late in the day. In the winter it would have already been dark for hours. Children ran through the grasses and birds still flitted about. The crossed the bridge over the White River and headed down the road that would take them past the Valheim tower, a great observation post that guarded the road and river. There was no way past it and it could be manned should the occasion rise. For now it was abandoned.
On the way there Faendal spotted some wolves on the side of the road. Usually traveling in threes this particular group was in a group of four. Halas took the point and with careful instructions dismounted his horse and crept to a rock where he could get a clear shot.
This was actually a difficult shot because of the distance but also multiple targets. Halas had to concentrate on one of the wolves and not the others. It was a challenge because they were so close to each other. But slowly he began to block out the other targets and he began to scan the grasses for wind. There was a small steady crosswind and he adjusted for it the best he could. One of the females was facing him and provided a good target. She bent her head down to lick her paw and Halas released his shot. It sailed true and drifted a bit to the side but not off the target. It connected below the neck and into the chest. The other three were alerted and began to charge the rangers. Jenessa and Faendal put down the other three quite efficiently.
The trio then skinned the animals and made their way to the Haalmarch cabin which sat on a bend in the White river. Halas would be responsible for racking the skins at the cabin, working by candlelight, while Jenessa and Faendal worked on the evening meal. It was a hearty meal full of venison stew and cool ale that had sat in the White river for over an hour to make sure it was cold.
As they talked, Faendal told them that they would be taking the back way to Ivarstead and then to Riften. It would take the day just to get to Ivarstead and then most of the morning to get to Riften. It was a long climb to the rift from the valley of Eastmarch. By the time they got to Ivarstead the horses would need to be groomed and fed a plenty to replace what they lost pulling them up the mountain. Faendal was sure they would run into some animals along the way as the backway was seldom traveled. In the back of his mind he also knew smugglers and bandits used the backroads of Skyrim to keep a low profile.
The three went to bed for the night and slept quite soundly. In the morning Halas woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and the trio began to prepare the morning meal. It was typically a heavy meal to get them through midday in which they would eat some cheese, bread, and maybe an apple on the trail. Then typically the evening meal would be a big affair topped off with some ale.
The cold and often brutally exhaustive life in Skyrim gave way to what seemed to be constant hunger. In fact much of life revolved around getting enough food. Not just enough food for that day but also for the Winter.
Every year people would die because of the extreme cold coupled with starvation. It was a sad reality of an unforgiving land. Rangers did their best to help with the situation since they are uniquely gifted with a bow and know how to hunt effectively. Not only do they have to be a good hunter, they had to defend against the animals that hunted the herds of deer.
Suriel and Rugot were saddled and ready to go. Jenessa bid Halas and Faendal good bye and the two set off for the nearby cut through to Ivarstead. The morning was cool but comfortable and the air was still. Songbirds were around and overall it looked to be a gorgeous day.
They began to work their way up the path and would occasionally dismount to pick up some unique ingredient or mine some ore that had been exposed in the hillside. The latter even revealed some garnet and amethyst.
Faendal had still not said how they would use the gems and Halas could only wonder. He had several of each of the stones, and was curious as to how a Ranger would use gems.
Regardless the ascent was a series of countless switchbacks that were cut into the mountain a long time ago. By the middle of the morning the pair had reached dizzying heights. “Now is the time you appreciate a calm and loyal horse, “ Faendal joked as he looked at the huge drop off just a few feet away. Halas preferred not to look down and instead just patted Suriel on the neck and the horse seemed to nod in agreement that he couldn’t wait to get off this narrow path either. Both animals were sweating and huffing and puffing from the steep climb.
“Lets stop up ahead in this clearing and rest a while. The horses need a break.” The clearing had a great view of a huge waterfall that overlooked a great view of the valley of Eastmarch far down below. One feature was one of the great evergreen trees that had fallen across the gorge in front of the waterfall and acted as a bridge. Halas was still full from the morning meal and ate an apple and gave a few to Suriel as well. The horses eagerly left to graze in the clearing began to chomp down on the various types of vegetation. Halas found some ore near some rocks and gathered some ingredients from the area. He also noticed an abandon firepit.
“People use this as a stopping point. Likely not the best characters either,” Faendal said reflectively. Most law abiding citizens would use inns and the main roads. Most people that used the back roads did not want to be seen.
After an hour they resumed the climb up into the Rift. Up ahead there was some howling and at the bottom of the trail was a dead goat that had been picked clean. Faendal hopped down and showed Halas the bite marks and characteristic tears that gave it away a kill by a wolf. It was important to know what killed something you ran across. It was also an easy way to find the animals that killed it.
It was easy to sneak up on the pair of wolves and Halas lined up his shot as he done before. Before long he was skinning one of the beasts. The second animal had fallen off of a cliff after being shot. “Sometimes that happens,” he remembered Faendal telling him.
They continued their climb and soon had come to an area that was essentially sloping down toward a river. “Darkwater river and upstream is Ivarstead,” commented Faendal. Suriel suddenly stopped and tensed up along with Rugot a moment later. Both rangers knew the animals sensed something so both rangers dismounted and began to scout ahead. It was hard to see at first but in a distant cave along the river something was moving. It wasn’t a bear because it was walking on two legs. However it was hairy. It had massive hands that had three great fingers.
“Troll.” The word sent a wave of fear through Halas. As children you heard of these almost mythical creatures that roamed the hills and mountains. But you never really had to think about running into one.
The two crept forward. They found a rock that gave a good view but not one that would reveal their position. There was no cover from this point toward the troll. The cave faced the river and the troll could see anything that was coming within a hundred meters.
“You wont be able to hit him from that distance. And I wont be able to do a killshot, “Faendal said with a frown. “Our best bet is to get some poison into him and wound him. Then when he comes at us try to turn him into a pincushion.
Halas thought about the plan and developed a frown of his own. “If we both use a poison we can kill it right?” Halas asked hopefully. Faendal shook his head. No trolls have a remarkable ability to heal themselves. If we wait too long the poison will wear off and the beast will be at full strength again. We have a short window of opportunity.
Faendal looked at the raging river and realized the crossing ahead of them was over some slippery rocks that would likely slow the troll down. Faendal thought of a plan to put his apprentice on the waters edge giving him an advantage when fighting the troll. As long as halas stayed off to one side Faendal could punish the beast with an arrow shot. Trolls were big strong brutes but by the time this one got to their location there wouldn’t be much fight left. Besides his apprentice needed a challenge. It was risky and Halas could be hurt or worse but it was a great learning opportunity.
Faendal reviewed the plan with Halas. It was a bit risky but it gave the pair every advantage imaginable. They both set up behind the rock and Faendal set his first shot sailing toward the troll. It moved at the last second and the shot buried itself in its shoulder. The beast howled and moved blazingly fast. Faendal’s second shot missed as the beast moved unpredictably fast. Halas did his best to hit the beast with a shot and as it worked its way down the trail to the crossing, Halas’s shot connected with the calf of the troll. It howled again in pain and with poison coursing through its body it was weakened. It shambled across the water and for the first time Halas had fear combined with adrenaline coursing through his own body.
He remembered what Jenessa had told him and what Faendal had told him. He controlled his breathing and anticipated the trolls move. Halas moved close to the water and prepared his daggers. The beast swung its mighty arms but Halas managed to avoid the blows. Faendal let another shot tear into the creature and it howled again. The sound of the arrow was close and it distracted Halas for a split second. The troll hit him with a backhand and knocked Halas sideways. He let go of his daggers so that he could break his fall and he tripped over a tree trunk on the side of the river and fell into the shallow water. Soaking wet he hopped up and located his daggers that were behind him. The troll was already dead, the animal laying in the water on the near bank.
Halas was feeling a mixed bag of emotions as he realized he survived a fight with a troll but certainly didn’t win. It was a difficult thing to get used to this constant thrashing by his opponents. What FAendal knew was that his apprentice was actually doing quite well. Remarkably the young man had avoided the first three swings of the beast. In a fight that is a distinct advantage. It would provide him enough time to counter attack and had Faendal’s arrow not distracted him it was likely that Halas would have been able to get in a few poisoned jabs of his own. But it was sobering to realize that there is always something out there that can best you in a fight.
Faendal took the time to show halas how to harvest troll fat. It was disgusting work and they would have to boil it and strain it to make it useable but it was a good resource. Trollfat was renowned for its ability to waterproof things.
By the time they were done and by the time they reached Ivarstead it was late afternoon. The innkeeper knew Faendal and remembered Halas. The first night that Faendal had left with him from Riften they stayed in the Inn. He was a cheery man and showed Halas the room they would be staying in. That evening Halas has a few ales and told the innkeeper about the fight with the troll. The man had said that Halas was brave for fighting the troll and glad that he was going to be a ranger. Halas smiled at that. He realized as he looked around at the patrons that one of them could have been walking along that trail today and been attacked by the troll. It made him feel good that the people here felt safer. Halas was beginning to realize why being a ranger was such an important job.
ultimatedovahkiin
Now's not the time for fear. That comes later.
great chapter! I love the pictures, I noticed though in one when the troll got shot by an arrow, it looks like the arrow is bleeding haha!
Azir L'Stros
"So much treasure, so little time..."
Wonderful story, as usual! Keep up the good work!
Chirurgeon
Active Member
yea its a blood mod I have and sometimes it glitches. The screenshots are the hardest to capture...haha.great chapter! I love the pictures, I noticed though in one when the troll got shot by an arrow, it looks like the arrow is bleeding haha!
thank you very much
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Chapter 15
Faendal was already up enjoying a cup of coffee with the innkeeper when Halas smelled the rich brew heating up near the fire. In fact it was that smell that inspired Halas to get dressed and amble his way out to the main hall of the inn. “Can’t even wait for the innkeeper to make a pot of coffee for ya ranger?”, the innkeeper joked as he came out of his own room. “Well I didn’t want to wake you fine sir.” Faendal cheerfully retorted. The innkeeper looked at Halas and winked, “If you want to drive the rangers out of Skyrim all ya gotta do is cut off the flow of coffee!”
It was interesting for Halas to watch because during the nearly thirty minute breakfast not once did the innkeeper ask where they were going or why. Later Faendal would explain that innkeepers kept their noses out of things like that for fear of reprisal. Plus a ranger could hardly tell an ordinary citizen what exactly they were doing. Many of the things that rangers did were meant to be secretive.
The two said goodbye to the innkeeper and walked out into the cool morning. With the daylight nearly reaching its peak for the year it was harder for the cold nights to assert complete control. For the next few months vast stretches of Skyrim would be devoid of freezing temperatures at night. It was a welcomed respite that the crops would enjoy and flourish.
They crossed over the bridge that signified the beginning of Dark Water River, and found their horses comfortably stabled and happy. The stablemaster was still asleep but a small bucket by the door was a tip jar of sorts. Faendal put in 20 septims, Halas put in another 20.
They made it to the shack that Valus used as a home of sorts and found it abandoned. “For a man with such a great reputation, this is not much of a house.” Halas noted as he looked around. Faendal grinned “sometimes simple is best when you don’t want attention.” And yet both of them knew that the master alchemist had indeed gotten attention.
After searching for any clue as to what happened even climbing on the roof to look around, the pair decided that there was nothing in the shack or surrounding area that would indicate anyone knew of this place. However if a worthy assassin was at work they would cover their tracks effectively. No human tracks were evident around the cabin.
“Work on making some potions I am going to have a wider view. Try mixing those elves ears with canus root, “ Faendal stated as he began a search of the woods around the cabin.
It turned out that Faendal enabled Halas to learn another recipe which would increase his eyesight slightly so that he could focus better on a target. The effect was short lived but it was apparent. This was good to know as elves ears were commonly found around various places of skyrim. Halas also took some time to make some other potions and about an hour later Faendal returned. Halas looked to his master but realized that he did not need to ask if he found anything. The slight frown on Faendal’s face indicated that things were not going well for his search of clues.
The pair left the cabin behind and it wasn’t long till they heard the baying of wolves. They dismounted and tracked them to a stand of trees not far from the road. “Better take care of these before some poor traveler gets it from them,” Faendal stated purposefully. There were two wolves and each took one of them. They were moving back and forth and were hard to track. Faendal stood up revealing his position and the wolves froze in place. In the time it took them to assess the two rangers, two arrows were inbound and connected with them, each one dying quickly from a combination of poison and deadly accuracy.
After skinning the carcasses and washing their hands in a nearby stream they continued their journey toward Riften. Talon had already sent word for Willow to assist in any way possible the investigation into the death of Valus. They were to meet her in the Bee and Barb and share their details.
As they rode south something eerily moved in the distance across the road. Faendal let out an audible gasp and dismounted. Halas quickly followed suit. “What is it?” Halas asked apprehensively. “Frost spider. I hate those damn things.” Halas nearly laughed when he realized his master had arachnophobia, but he guessed everyone had to be afraid of something. “They don’t bother me when they are dead its just when they are alive its like there are too many legs for their body.” He tried to explain leaving Halas unconvinced.
However Halas felt like dealing with the spider at hand then further mocking his master. “Will poison work?” Asked halas curiously. Yes as long as its not frostbite venom. Halas dosed one of his arrows with a lingering poison that would last for some time. It was a considerable distance away and would be substantially weaker when it got close. However the beast would never get close. The two rangers fired on the spider nearly simultaneously and it went down some 20 meters from their position.
Killing it was the easy part but to get the venom and any eggs it might be carrying was the real gross part. Faendal showed Halas how to milk the fangs to get the poison out and collect it in vials just like any other poison. “Frostbite venom is toxic but we can make better poisons. This venom has a much more important purpose which I will show you later.” He said this as he cut open the abdomen of the creature and pulled out a few eggs. “These will also improve vision,” he stated as he tossed the chicken egg sized eggs to Halas. Halas wrapped the eggs in some burlap and placed it in a protective area of his backpack. Suriel didn't seem to like this whole affair and neighed his disaproval. Faendal looked at Halas, "See I am not the only one that dislikes spiders." Halas smiled at that.
After washing their hands with some water from their packs and stopping to eat a lunch of dried meats, cheese, bread, and water, they continued their journey toward Riften. Here the guard patrols were more regular and the incursion of things like frost spiders much more rare. Halas found some slaughterfish egg nests along the lake and some iron in a nearby hillside. Halas remembered this route all too well as he had to chase after Faendal on his horse on a full belly after eating too much at the Bee and Barb. He smiled to himself as he remembered those early days of becoming a ranger’s apprentice. Faendal noticed the smile and nodded in the direction of his apprentice.
They stabled the horses outside the city and it was just midday. They wondered into the city and many memories, some good and some bad, flooded back into Halas’s mind. He put those aside as they met up with Willow in the Bee and Barb. Here the three sat and tried to figure out what may have happened to Valus. The trio went to each of the shopkeepers but only the alchemist that was on the canal seemed to know the man that the rangers were after.
“He wasn’t alone.” Said the wife of the alchemist. That statement got the ranger’s attention. “That’s right there was a woman with him and she was cloaked. We could not see her face.” Chimed in the apprentice. “How long ago was this?” Asked Faendal. The apprentice and wife and alchemist all looked at each other and agreed it had been several weeks. They then added that he said he was from Windhelm. They also said that the man claimed the woman was a protector of sorts because he was traveling dangerous parts of Skyrim.
The rangers thanked the alchemists for their time and went outside where they were not in earshot of anyone. “This doesn’t make any sense.” Said Faendal in a frustrating tone. Halas shook his head also. Willow who had been mostly quiet added something interesting at this point “Perhaps she is the real assassin?” Faendal seemed to latch onto the idea, “It could be. Or it could be another ruse to throw off any would be followers like ourselves”
“Gods were going in circles here. Without anything else to go on we are stumbling around in the dark.” Both Halas and Willow nodded in agreement. Willow was looking down and playing with a pebble with her toe when she stated the next most important thing, “What do we tell Talon?”
That was important. Talon would want a report and would likely be at the Riften Ranger’s Cabin by nightfall. “I think its best that we have Jenessa go to Windhelm just in case this assassin was really telling the truth. I just can’t see having yourself and your apprentice chasing ghosts all over Skyrim for a murder of a man that we don’t even know was truly murdered for being associated with the rangers!” Stated Willow forcefully and yet thoughtfully.
Halas frowned now and added his two septims, “Well if they could not see her face she could have been an orc , dark elf, high elf, wood elf, you name it!”
It made sense and the two rangers agreed that they would offer that to Talon. Faendal was not one to leave loose ends and he was not happy but did not see any other choice. It wasn’t like a ranger had been murdered. So the three plied off to the Riften Ranger cabin which was just north of lake Honrich. When they arrived Talon was already there making a meal for the soon to be three rangers and one apprentice.
He smiled and embraced both Faendal and Willow. “Good to see you guys are safe. Now tell me what have you learned about this murder of our master alchemist?”. Faendal took a deep breath and went over with painful detail everything they had discovered so far. When it was over Halas went over and poured several cups of coffee and brought them back to the other rangers. Talon looked at Faendal and smiled, “Teaching him the ways of the ranger I see?” Everyone chuckled for a moment and then as they sipped the brew they thought about all the different possibilities. “You said his house in the woods was untouched?” Talon asked as he rubbed his hands around the warm mug of black liquid. “As far as I could tell. It had rained twice since he had been murdered so it would be difficult to find tracks. Judging by the mold on the fruits it had been several weeks since anyone had been there.” Talon nodded in deep thought.
He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “I think its best we put this to rest for now. Until something else turns up were doing nothing but running around in circles. I will tell Jenessa to poke around in Windhelm and see what she can find out. However I doubt the assassin would be that careless. It is curious that the man would appear with a cloaked woman like that. And I wonder why she didn’t accompany him to the apothecary in Falkreath?” Talon shook his head and stood up and stretched. So many questions and not enough answers was the theme of the night it seemed. The four began to prepare for bed and Talon hardly talked to Halas at all.
Halas expected the leader of the Imperial Rangers in Skyrim to be a bit more receptive but he seemed to keep his distance. It was a strange sensation. Every other ranger seemed to like him and yet Talon was so distant. Maybe it took him a while to get comfortable. Or maybe because Halas was just an apprentice then he wouldn’t talk to him until he became one of them. Who knows. But what Halas did know is that he was tired and had his fair share of adventure for the day. His last thoughts were of the look on his master's face when he saw that frost spider. He smiled quietly to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
Azir L'Stros
"So much treasure, so little time..."
Love it, absolutely wonderful. But I have to ask: Faendal's face seems to be much darker than the rest of his skin. Is that a glitch, or something else?
Chirurgeon
Active Member
Thank you very much for your continued support. I have not noticed that. I have a mod that makes him look younger because in the original game he is grey haired. Which picture are you referring to?
Azir L'Stros
"So much treasure, so little time..."
All of the pictures seem to show this. Faendal's face seems to resemble a dark elf's, for lack of a better word, while his arms and hands are like, say, a wood elf's or high elf's.
