Chapter 2

“HASKILL!”

He suddenly appeared. “Yes, Lady Sheogorath? How can I assist you today?”

“Have I told you how much I hate this job?”

“In the last year as they measure time on Mundus, that would be one thousand, three hundred, and forty-two times. Forty three if you count Sun’s Dawn the 2^nd twice, since you seemed to enjoy that day enough that you lived it twice.”

“Well, it is the traditional summoning day for Sheogorath, after all. But I digress, as I find myself wont to do after these centuries of either filling in for or replacing your lost Lord. In any event, that spawn of mine seems to have run into a bit of trouble in Mundus, as we knew she would. Take care of it for me, like a good chamberlain.”

Haskill sighed. “Lady Sheogorath, I do not visit Mundus for reasons of which you are well aware. The doorway into Cyrodiil is quite close enough for me, thank you. However, I have ... well, some mortal inhabitants of Passwall who are available to travel there should it prove necessary.”

“Oh, it is, Haskill, it truly is. Your favorite among all my children has been beaten to within an inch of her life, or at least drugged into unconsciousness, and some blaggard who’s already met his death and will find the afterlife to not be as pleasant as he hoped stole your presents for her.”

He sighed. “You only have one child, Lady Sheogorath. By the very definition of that word she is both my favorite and least ... wait, you say someone stole MY PRESENT FOR HER?”

“Stole it, melted it down, and sold it, even. But he’s beyond your reach now, since people from his village of Rorikstead seem to mostly worship Kynareth. But since he stole – and not just from anyone – Nocturnal has claimed him for her own.”

“Oh, nasty – having your eyes plucked out and flesh devoured by ravens for a few years ought to teach him some manners, after all. I approve. But that still means I’m going to have to get someone from Passwall to make her replacements of some kind – unless you desire otherwise, of course. Your will rules us all.”

“Decisions, decisions, decisions. Such a pain at times – I almost feel like I understand why my predecessor decided to become Jyggalag at times. And it’s certainly not been a thousand years yet. Or has it? Ah, well, either way, she’s still the one thing that centers me. So go ahead, get her some new toys and be quick about it, Haskill.”

“Yes, my Lady Sheogorath, I shall do as you will.”

“Of course you will. And Haskill?” For a moment Chantal Grizé looked more like herself than the version of her that had replaced Sheogorath. “Give her my love and blessing in completing this quest of hers, so she may find the peace in her heart she seeks.”

With that, the Lady Sheogorath sat in her throne and then faded away, to visit some other portion of her realm.

I was still questioning Hadvar while we were still together, just outside of Helgen.

“Hey, Hadvar, before you take off, what can you tell me about Riverwind?”

“Perhaps that blow on your head that addled you also made you hard of hearing, girl. It’s Riverwood, not Riverwind. My uncle, Alvor, is the blacksmith there. His wife Sigrid and little Dorthe are my family there. There’s an inn, a small trader, and a lumber mill. Not much else – there’s a mine between here and there as well, but I don’t know how active it is. Now, perhaps I’ll meet you there, let’s be going our separate ways so one of us can warn the Jarl.” With that, he turned to walk away.

I followed him, since there was still only one road leading away from Helgen. Thinking to myself while I was walking about what a damn stupid Nord he was, traipsing down the path like he didn’t have a care in the world. We came around a curve in the road and I saw a fire off to the side of the trail. “Hadvar, it’s cold, at least to me anyway, and I’m going to rest a bit by that fire over there. I’ll catch up to you soon.”

He looked at me strangely. “What fire? Ah, perhaps it’s for the best.” He shook his head and continued on.

I thought that was odd behavior of him. Oh, well. I walked up the small rise next to the road. There was a tent with a bedroll in it set up, a merry little warm fire going in front of the tent and metal stakes holding a pot of stew over the fire. Some chopped wood was piled neatly nearby to feed the fire, and what looked like a large sack of food was next to the tent. I figured whoever had taken the time to set this up must have been scared off by the dragon.

The pot contained a nice rabbit stew, loaded with lots of vegetables, too. I took a bowl that was sitting by the tent and filled it with the ladle that was still in the stew pot. I hadn’t had time to set the ladle down when I heard a voice from behind me. “I’m warning you now, we have the drop on you.”

“Easy, friend. I’m just getting something to eat. Let me set this down and we can talk about it like reasonable people.”

“Set what down, woman? We want your gold, armor, and weapons. Give us those and we may let you live.”

I sighed. So much for mealtime. I simply dropped the bowl and ladle and dived into a forward roll so that I was back on my feet partway down the little rise. I grabbed the bow from my shoulder, then reached for an arrow. I said a small prayer of thanks that Nord warriors were stupid at time. If they’d simply charged, I would have been in trouble. But instead the one who was talking was bashing his sword into his shield, trying to intimidate me.

That left his friend advancing alone. She was wearing an open faced helmet, which gave my arrow plenty of room to enter and bury itself in her brain. “You’ll pay for that, you milk drinker!” Now the bandit warrior decided to charge me. It did him no good as I already had another arrow ready. I put in into his leg, crippling him and driving him to the ground with a blown kneecap. As he sprawled forward, I simply dropped my bow, pulled my sword, and finished him off.

I quickly checked their corpses for anything of value they might have had. A few gold and some extra weapons that I could sell when I finally got into a town might come in handy. I rolled their bodies down the hill so that any wild animals that might feed on them should be far enough away from me, so they’d leave me alone. It was time to eat. I retrieved my bow and walked back to the tent.

The sight before me caused me to exclaim out loud, “What on Nirn?”

The bowl and ladle were back in their starting places before I’d dropped them. The charging bandit had knocked part of the tent loose as well. Now it was back up.

I frowned. “Uncle Haskill, are you watching out for me here, now?”

From inside the sack beside the tent, a small voice sounds. “You’re well aware that I may not visit Mundus, so it is impossible for me to watch out for you. However, it’s not impossible for me to, perhaps, restore to you that which you so carelessly lost in the first place.” He gave a great sigh, and hearing that made me a little homesick. “It is my duty and my burden to do the will of the Lady Sheogorath. So I find I must provide something for you, no doubt that you’ll end up losing again soon anyway.”

“Uncle Haskill, you old softie. I promise no more drinking with strange men, and certainly no more losing your presents.”

“I do so wish you wouldn’t call me Uncle Haskill, child. I’ve been with the Lord Sheogorath through more cycles than I care to count, and now with the Lady Sheogorath through her ascent.”

“Yes, but you’re still the one who healed my scraped knees. So you’ll always be Uncle Haskill to me.”

I could hear in his voice that he was trying to maintain his usual aloofness, and failing. “Very well, child. You’re as your mother, and will do as you will. Which means that you need some things. Now, get some food and sleep in this bedroll. You’ll understand in the morning. Dreadful things are often discovered in mornings.”

I smiled. “All right, Haskill. I’ll do as you say.” With that, I ate some of the stew, and felt myself growing sleepy. Climbing into the bedroll, I turned towards the sack. “Goodnight, Uncle Haskill.”

“Sleep well, child, and know this. Your mother gives you her love and her blessing to find your destiny here in Skyrim.”

Sleep came quickly.

I woke up feeling rested, and also hungry and thirsty again. Some leftover stew and a small bottle of ale took care of that. Now, where did I ... oh, that’s what he meant. When I had gone to sleep, I’d taken my armor off, sleeping in a mages robe I’d found under the keep. The armor and weapons I’d found and worn yesterday was no longer there.

In their place were the items that had been taken from me before, or near duplicates since these were clean and had no scratches or damage to them from wearing them from Bravil to Bruma.

“Bless you, Uncle Haskill. And thank you, Mother.” I felt whole again. It was time to pack up and see what awaited me in this land. These bandits were too well equipped with weapons and no food on them beyond a small snack to have been just a roving group. That meant they had a camp or hideout nearby. Since I was already here, I thought I’d see what I could find.

I gathered my gear and started following the tracks. Those I had killed apparently had little in the way of woodcraft skills. Even if I hadn’t been trained by the Grey Fox herself, I think I could have followed this trail. I went north, across what apparently passes for a road in these lands, and saw their trail heading towards a structure that looked like a mine shaft going into the side of the hill. A little recon work was due. It’s never a good idea to suddenly surprise a LOT of bandits at the same time. I crept around to the east and climbed up on a rock overlooking the mine entrance.