Nora had debated on whether or not she should walk into the village in her power armor or not. She couldn't be sure they would be friendly to strangers, and the armor would give her absolute protection. However, it would make an impression she might not want. The people would have to be frightened if she came stomping in wearing a ton or more of mechanism. So she compromised and crept in using her nanosuit on invisibility mode. She would get a read on these people before revealing herself.

 

It was a village, maybe a couple of hundred people. The houses looked like what one might have found in the quainter areas Europe before the bombs dropped. What looked like a lumber mill, numerous houses, and inn toward the center. There were large trees and clusters of shrubs, and the people seemed to like living alongside nature.

 

The people looked like Earth humans for the most part. All of the men were fit and handsome, the women beautiful. Blond or reddish-blond hair, fair skins for the most part. And speaking the same language as the Raiders. It sounded kind of like German, or possibly Islandic. Nora had a passing familiarity with German, and had heard spoken Islandic, a language said to be close to what ancient Vikings spoke. Not exactly, and it still surprised her that she understood it so readily. She had yet to try and speak it, and she thought that it would take practice to get the pronunciations correct.

 

The Viking people weren't the only ones in town. There were three different kinds of Elf, if she had pegged their differences correctly. One of the lizard people, and a couple of the big cats. All seemed to be getting along, and the town was bustling with activity.

 

So it's a multi-species kingdom, thought Nora, watching in fascination as an Elf and a cat person hauled a log to the mill between them. The species seemed to interact, and she had no evidence that any of them were slaves. Moving carefully, since making a lot of noise or letting someone trip over her would give her away despite her invisibility, she listened in on the people. A lot of talk about a Jarl. That must be the ruler. Of the region, or the whole planet? And dragons? That was the point of most conversations.

 

Did they really have dragons here? And from what she heard they were very large, could fly, and breathed a variety of harmful breaths. She moved closer to some of the cat people who had made up a camp just outside of town. One was building a fire, stacking wood, while another was seeing to one of their kind who had walked over with a limp and collapsed on the ground. Suddenly, the one who was building the fire started sending flames from his fingers, starting the logs to blazing. While another of the cats placed his hands over the leg of the injured one and a glow linked hand with leg.

 

Magic? They've got fucking magic? It could have been technology, but she saw no machines, and tech like that was incongruous with the level of this society. But magic? That was impossible. Unless it wasn't.

 

Well, now I have a choice, she thought. She could continue to skulk in the wilderness. Or she could walk into town and meet the neighbors. There was no way she was going to find her way back home on her own. These people might not have the tech to help her, but with magic they might possibly have something that could point her in the right direction. Deciding she would make contact, she moved out of town, not willing to just pop into existence in their midst. She didn't doubt they knew about invisibility, but using it to spy on them might be perceived as a hostile action.

 

Nora had walked her suit with the other slaved to hers to a concealed spot about two miles out of the town, a couple of hundred yards off the road. Both suits were stealthed, invisible, which was using up energy that she really didn't want to waste. The sooner she got them someplace where she didn't have to worry about people messing with them, or them messing with people, the better. R4 was buried in a shallow grave back at the campsite. As soon as she made contact and found out how these people handled their dead she would make other arrangements.

 

That thought brought a tear to Nora's eye. R4 had been a good friend, a sometime lover, and Nora felt guilty about her death. If the damned synth hadn't tried to rescue her, she would still be back in the Commonwealth, safe. It was not Nora's fault that R4 had tried to follow, but she still felt terrible about what had happened.

 

“I will have your gold,” called out a voice as three figures stepped out of the woods in front of Nora. Her helmet HUD showed that two more had come out behind her. There were two arrows pointed her way, but this time she was ready. She had her hard helmet on, the face shield of her HUD visor down. Her neck was protected by the collar she had raised. There was nothing these people had that she needed to be concerned about.

 

“You will have death,” she said, her throat and tongue struggling to form the words.

 

“A stranger,” said the leader, a black-haired human who looked different than the Nordic types from the village. She had seen some of his kind back there as well, realizing that there was more than one human culture on this world. “And it looks to have some interesting kit as well.”

 

“It's a she,” said another, this one an elf. “Let's say we take her alive and have some fun for a fortnight or two. If she isn't uglier than sin under that clothing.”

 

Nora felt her anger growing. Not that she resented the reference to being ugly. She thought she would be considered good looking even among the beautiful people back in the town, with her raven hair, ice blue eyes and toned athletic body.

 

I'm not even going to bother talking with you scum, thought Nora. She had her M16, drum filled with a hundred rounds. Forty caliber pistol on her hip, monomolecular knife on the other. She knew she needed to conserve ammo, and she thought she could take these without a problem. So she pulled out her knife and ran toward the Raider spokesman.

 

That man smiled and drew a slightly glowing sword. He swung it out, and Nora moved out of the way like he was standing still, her augmented physiology letting her move at double normal speed. She didn't like the look of that glow, and thought avoiding the blade might be for the best. The sword almost hit the ground before the Raider recovered. A quick thrust of her knife and the Raider would never swing a sword again.

 

Leaning back, Nora sent a side kick into the elf standing to her other side, sending him flying through the air to strike hard against a tree. Arrows struck her, bouncing from her armor. One hit her faceplate, leaving a shallow scratch that had her cursing. A duck, a thrust, and a knife hand, and two more Raiders were down, one bleeding out, the other choking for breath through a crushed windpipe.

 

Something hit her, like nothing she had ever felt. Cold, deep, bone deep. She stumbled forward; her muscles suddenly weak. She wanted to sink to the ground and let the fatigue take her into sleep. But she knew she wouldn't wake from that and forced herself to turn, to face one of the smaller elves, blue magic glowing in his right hand.

 

Can't let him do that again, she thought, taking a couple of steps to the side, then diving to the right, feeling the chill pass over her. Rolling on the ground she came up with pistol in hand, tracking in on the elf and squeezing the trigger. The bullet struck the elf to the left of his sternum and the man folded in on himself as he collapsed.

 

“You bitch,” yelled the remaining Raider, picking up the glowing sword and heading for her. Only stopping when the point of an arrow poked through his throat. He coughed a few times, then collapsed.

 

“Are you okay,” yelled a man in hunter's leathers, running up.

 

Nora wasn't sure how she felt. That cold, spell was it, had almost taken her down. She thought if she had normal physiology she would have gone down for the count, if not dead, at least incapacitated.

 

“So cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

 

“The bandit mage hit you with freezing magic. Must not have been very powerful, or you wouldn't still be on your feet. Still, it would be best if I got you back to town and you saw a healer.”

 

The elf pulled her arm over a shoulder and started back toward town.

 

“Wait. I want that sword.”

 

The elf nodded, went back and picked up the magical sword, pulling a sheath off the bandit leader and putting it away. He then went back to help the stranger.

 

“Good job taking care of those bandits, by the way,” said the elf hunter. “There's a bounty on that rabble, and you've earned it.”

 

People stared at them as they entered town, and Nora was certain it wasn't the elf that was attracting the attention. Soon they were in the inn, the fire warming her as a middle-aged woman with light colored hair and different features from the natives helped her out of her helmet, then her jacket. Her weapons were laid on the table and the woman, whose name was Delphine, picked them up and started looking them over.

 

“Don't fool with those,” she shouted, then took a breath. “Sorry, but they're really dangerous. It would be best if you didn't fool with them. I'll show you how they work later.”

 

The woman seemed satisfied with that, and Nora addressed the steaming bowl of soup in front of her. People in the crowded inn were talking about her. Many remarking on her appearance and her costume, others on how she had single handedly taken out the bandit gang that had become such a nuisance, preying on travelers for the last couple of months.

 

“You probably didn't get all of them though,” said one of the townspeople, looking down at the guest. “They hang out in the mine nearby, and not all of them come out at any one time.”

 

“Let me get my feet back under myself and I'll pay them a visit,” said Nora, getting gasps of appreciation.

 

“Where are you from?” asked a high-pitched voice as a pretty stranger came into view. This one had black hair, unusual eyes that didn't look quite real, and slightly Asian features. “Your outfit isn't from around here, and those weapons never originated on Tamriel.”

 

“I'm from the Commonwealth,” said Nora, realizing as soon as she said it that these people wouldn't know what she was talking about.

 

“The Commonwealth,” said the woman, recognition in her eyes. “You're a long way from home.”

 

“And who are you? And how do you know anything about the Commonwealth?”

 

“I'm, Recorder. That's right, Recorder. And I can't tell you how I know about the Commonwealth.”

 

“Recorder? Is that a name or a designation?”

 

The woman simply shook her head, then started looking over the weapons.

 

“I feel much better now. And I'm in a killing mood. Would someone like to show me where that mine is.”

 

“You're still weak,” said a man in the robes of a priest.

 

“I recover faster than you would believe. So, someone help me belt on that sword, and I'll go take care of the rest of your bandit problem.”

 

*     *     *

 

Nora felt like her old self as she approached the mine entrance. She had gone into invisibility well before reaching the mine, gaining the gasps of the people who had led her to it.

 

“She's a mage,” gasped one of the hunters.

 

Not yet, she thought, though she was of a mind to learn some magic if she had the aptitude. They had healing spells, spells to ward off offensive spells like the one that had almost laid her low the other day. Spells to kill, spells to protect. Her energy sources wouldn't last forever, and the warrior could see clear advantages to learning the art. But first things first.

 

There was a large bandit with a warhammer outside the entrance, clearly nervous and looking for the returning party. Well, they're not coming back, she thought. She had learned that the Nords, as the people were called, in town and villages buried their dead, while in the cities they were interned in crypts. Some of them had gone after R4's body to take care of her burial. Bandits were left where they fell, stripped of all belongings. She had been delighted to find out that the belongings of her kills belonged to her now, and they could be sold off. That, and the bounties she would gain from the Jarl, would go a long way to keeping her financially secure for the moment.

 

She stood within a foot of the bandit for over a minute, breathing softly, relishing the feeling of power she had over the scumbag. She grabbed his hair, pulled hard, and slid her blade across his throat, slicing all the way to his spine before releasing him and stepping away. One down, an indeterminate number to go.

 

“Hjor,” said a voice as she opened the door to the mine and stepped in. “Are they back?”

 

Something's back, thought Nora, soft footing it over to the bow armed woman watching the door. And it's not what you expected.

She cut the throat of this one as well and move further into the mine. Next up were a pair of bandits sparring in a well-lit chamber. She had cut the throat of one while the other looked on in terror. That one swung with his sword, but Nora wasn't anywhere near where he struck. She thrust her blade through the spine of the bandit, killing him instantly and letting his body fall to the ground.

 

“Anyone there,” called out a concerned bandit, bringing a smile to Nora's face. The bandits here were no brighter than the Raiders back home. Moving like water buffalo and talking when silence would have served them better. No tactical sense. Just the way she liked it. That bandit drew her in like a flashing light, bright on her night vision HUD, and then there was one less plaguing this world.

 

She killed three more before she ran into trouble. This one was a magic user, suspicious and scared, and started sending fireballs her way. Nora moved quickly, always one step ahead of the ball of fire, until the made it to cover. She watched the heat signature of the mage through her HUD, sure from the man's movements that he really didn't know what she was. Still, no use taking chances, and a single rifle round through his head made sure he would never cast another spell.

 

Nora continued searching, never one to take it for granted that all the enemies were gone. She found the back entrance, and when she was sure all the opposition was done for, she disengaged the stealth field to conserve energy and started looking for loot. Nora was a looter from way back. To survive in the wasteland one had to be watchful and ready to grab anything and run. No need to run here, and she marveled over the gold ingots and jewels she found, as well as some more magical weapons. She didn't know the value of anything, but was sure they would increase her fortune.

*     *     *

Nora hadn't gotten drunk in some time. Tonight she made an exception. She was both in mourning and celebrating. A good friend was dead, and she made many toasts to her. And she had become a hero to these people, as well as racking in a good bit of coin. Not bottlecaps, like in the Commonwealth, but real gold. A little heavier, but she had learned there was a bank in Whiterun, the Hold capital, that issued letters of credit. So things were looking up.

 

Nora had always been one to land on her feet, and this was no exception. She still wanted to get home, but if that didn't happen she was willing to make a life for herself here. Her metabolism prevented her from getting falling down drunk, but she did get to the point where her inhibitions were nonexistent. After watching a very drunk Recorder dancing on a table she joined in, and soon she was moving to the bard's music. One thing led to another and clothing started to come off, to the disapproving looks of the women and the cheers of the men.

 

She didn't get completely naked, leaving the panties on, but she showed enough to attract the interest of many of the men. Nord women were larger breasted than her, C cups being the lower extreme, D's more common. Nora had perfectly shaped B's, with large areolas and thick nipples. Still, she wasn't about to let herself get laid by men she didn't know, though it definitely wouldn't be the first.

 

Finally it was late, people started filing out of the inn, and Nora thought about bed. She asked the inn-keep and was disappointed to learn that there were no beds available. Joking around with the very handsome bard, a light-haired male from Hammerfell, a Breton, whatever they were, she found herself starting to like the man. He was handsome, sweet, had a great voice, and one thing led to another, including the offer to share a bed for the evening.

 

Laying naked on Mikael's bed, watching him disrobe, she felt herself getting very aroused. She had always resorted to sex as a way to purge herself of the memories of the killing. While she was good at it, and knew that some people just needed killing, it always bothered her after the fact, and a good orgasm always made her feel right with the world again. She wasn't sure how good this bard would be, realizing that medieval cultures weren't known for their forward-looking sexual practices, but he had a tight body and was well hung. Not the best she had ever seen, but definitely not the worst, and with little surprise she felt herself getting wet.

 

Mikael lay with her and enfolded her in his strong arms. He kissed her neck, then worked his way down to her left breast, suckling a nipple. Nora moaned, feeling a thrill of pleasure as she gave in to someone she recognized as a skilled lover. They made out for some time. Mikael went down on her, giving her the first orgasm of the night. He looked up with her moisture on his face, then lay back so she could do the same to him.

 

“Wait,” he said, reaching over to grab a small flask from his dresser and down it. He reached over for another and handed it to Nora.

 

“What?”

 

“Mine was to make sure I could perform to your satisfaction, my Lady. Yours is to prevent unintended consequences.”

 

Like pregnancy, she thought, downing the awful tasting concoction. Of course they didn't have condoms, and that got her to thinking about diseases.

 

“Oh no,” laughed the bard. “Oh, sometimes something crops up, and the healers find out how to stamp it out. So no worries there.”

 

Nora worked her way down the muscular body, thinking about how STDs were so easily cured in the Commonwealth. And of course, there were very few obese people post apocalypse. There had been plenty in prewar America, but they hadn't survived to pass their genes down.

 

Mikael gasped as she took him in her mouth. She worked her tongue around his manhood, then swallowed him all the way down. He was larger than average, just the kind of cock Nora liked. Not so big as to hurt, but large enough to reach all the right places. She fondled his balls gently as she sucked him into her throat, and she wondered how long he would last. Not long, it turned out, and with sudden spasms he was launching his seed down her throat as she swallowed greedily.

 

“That was wonderful,” gasped Mikael, looking up at her smiling face. “I've, I've never had anyone that was so well versed in that art.”

 

“How long till you’re ready to go?” she asked, wanting to feel him inside her.

 

“Give me a minute,” he said, laughing at her surprised look. “The potion of aphrodisiac can work wonders. I'm yours for the next three hours.”

 

Nora laughed, then went back down on him, lifting her own leg over his face so he could service her genitals. If he had three hours in him, thanks to the potion, she wasn't going to waste any of that time.

 

She had two more orgasms in that position, Mikael shooting another large load into Nora's mouth. Nora loved his taste and swallowed it with relish. Then she was ready for something else and rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs and reaching up for her lover. She experienced another orgasm as the bard penetrated her. She wondered if he was a straight in and out man, or if he had some technique. He had technique, in spades, and soon she found herself screaming out in ecstasy as he moved inside her.

 

When he shot his seed deep inside her Nora orgasmed again. Like many women her pleasure was growing with each orgasm, and she was beginning to wonder if the bard was going to fuck her to death. Mikael didn't miss a beat, continued thrusting, and soon another orgasm was rising. She had three more before he came again, and this time he stopped thrusting, raising his body up enough so he wasn't crushing her.

 

Nora felt the instrument of pleasure soften, then slip out of her, followed by a stream of semen. She was still trying to get her breath, and the bard leaned in to kiss her again.

 

“Wow,” she said, gasping. “I don't ever think I've been fucked like that.”

 

Mikael laughed, then kissed her again. “And I don't think I've ever had such a partner before. Are all women like you where you come from?”

 

“No,” laughed Nora. “And I'm glad I could please.”

 

“Very much so. I've never been in such a wet tight cunt in my life.”

 

Nora made a sour face. Where she was from cunt was a derogatory. But here it seemed to be a common term for pussy. She yawned and enfolded Mikael in an embrace. From there they both fell into a deep slumber, smiles on their faces.