Faendal went to a nearby wardrobe and pulled out a bow. It had small notches on the wood and intricate bends in the wood.
“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.