Sian's Story part 58 - Take the Long Way Home
Entry posted by jfraser in Sian's Story
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The next morning, the first thing Kellan said to me was, “What is that?” and I, having slept like the dead after the exhausting events of the prior day and therefore having the groggiest of mornings, had the brain function of an amoeba and could only mumble, “What is what?”
A propos of nothing, this world really needs coffee.
I remembered the amulet just after the words left my lips and a I felt a growing panic as I realized the trap I had set for myself – I was not prepared to have a conversation about marriage first thing in the morning! What the hell had I been thinking?! Several conflicting thoughts jumped into my mind and my lips were already moving to try to speak all of them at once when Kellan burst the ballon of my discomfiture by motioning at something lower on my body than the necklace.
“When did you get a tattoo? And how is it moving? Magic?”
This question stopped my brain in its erratic tracks, leaving my mouth to its own devices against the tide of words that it had been about to try to speak. The end result came out something akin to, “Iborlifwhat?”
He pointed, so I focused my bleary eyes on my leg. Sure enough, what looked like a small tattoo moved like an ant horizontally right-to-left across my skin. I twisted my leg as it traced its way around my calf, then watched as it meandered its way back to the front, completing a full circuit in the space of seven-ish second.
“What the fuck.”
“Oh, there are more. Three, it looks like. One is going around your neck. The other…” he stopped, then grinned. “The other is one I would like to follow with my tongue.”
“I…what?!”
He bent forward and kissed the top of my right breast, so I looked down and, sure enough, a similar shape was just dipping into the trough between my breasts. I watched in fascination as it made its way up the hill on the left side, then arched away toward my side.
“What the hell?! Have these been there or did they just appear?”
Kellan shrugged. “I haven’t noticed them until now, but I suppose it is possible they have been here. They’re pretty small and two of them would have been covered by the rug most of the time. Speaking of which, where is the rug?”
“I…” I looked around, then swore. “I forgot to pick it back up. It’s still in the stupid crypt.”
“We can swing by and grab as we leave.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not going to bother with it anymore. It just gets in the way. Fuck it – I used to wear bikinis to the pool and the beach and it never bothered me. I’ll get used to it.” After a brief flashback to the groping hands in the barracks, I amended, “I might get one when we get back to the city. It won’t matter until then.”
“Fair enough. Oh, and by the way, that necklace you found has some meaning for Nords. Might want to be careful about wearing it in public.”
He winked and turned away, leaving me speechless and entirely discombobulated.
Upon further study, I eventually realized the “tattoos” were in the shape of letters in the dragon language and were, in fact, the words of the Shouts I had activated. Eventually my skin was literally crawling with them.
Anyway, we got packed up but then got delayed trying to decide where to go. The answer to that may seem obvious – I was supposed to bring the ugly crown back to Solitude – but the opposite logic from when we were at Ustengrav came into effect: Solitude was hundreds of miles north while High Hrothgar was staring right down at us from its lofty perch. Despite Lazhah’s protests, we decided to make a side trip to begin (and, since we had the horn, end) my training with them.
It took ten days to reach Ivarstead. It would have taken less time, but we had some minor adventures along the way in the form of some ruins/crypts delving, as we had planned. I don’t want to bore you with the ultimately fruitless details of the trip, so here are just the highlights:
- I was a little nervous when we approached Valtheim Towers, the place where Lydia (I paused a moment to wonder what she was doing in this new Skyrim. Did they have female Housecarls? Probably not. Hmm…) had got herself killed and where my first foray into slavery had started last time, but it was quick and easy this time – the bandits wanted a 200 g (which is only about $60) toll, so we gave it to them then went on our merry. Just as Lydia had incorrectly guessed would happen last time!
- We came across a man named Goldir whose brother-in-law necromancer was busy desecrating the family tomb. Goldir had sent his aunt in by herself to confront the brother-in-law. I hadn’t known cowardly Nords existed but turns out they do! We found the aunt murdered and the brother-in-law busily raising family members from the dead. At the end, the guy gave us a measly 100 g ($30). I may or may not have pilfered a few gems on our way out. There were, alas, no word walls. Which makes sense, it being a relatively new (only a couple centuries, not millennia, old) private family tomb.
- We went through a pass under a mountain that turned out to be infested with falmer. Apparently they used to be elves or something but have spent centuries underground and are now twisted blind creatures. Worse, they have pet giant centipedes called churros, or something like that, that spit acid. Next time, I’ll happily go the long way around. Helen and the other horses were very unhappy and would have refused to even enter the place had it not been for Nigel. This is one area where Helen and I were in complete accord.
Although I was never overcome by industrial music again, I found my fighting skills had…well, evolved, I guess is the best term. Through some combination of my daily practices with Kellan, my tougher body (I felt as strong as I had during my peak mining days and, as a bonus, did not have lungs filled with dirt!), and perhaps some ethnic instinct, as Kellen kept insisting despite the fact I was from a completely different world, I found myself hesitating less and less when it came time for action. As a swordsman (swordswoman?), I was still terrible, of course, but with my shouts, I was able to hold my own with Kellan and Lane and, dare I say, could have kicked Lazhah’s ass, had it come to that.
Speaking of the shouts, I was saddened to learn Timeout stopped working the moment I attacked someone. I had hoped I could stop everyone in their tracks then just go up and jab my sword in their throats, but alas, no. I am very glad I had Ghost active the first (and only) time I tried that tactic!
We fought and killed only one dragon in that time, but I learned some things from it. First and foremost, my shouts were somewhat effective against it. Since it had the Full Grown Dragon strength dragon words, my partial words were only a partial counter, but Ghost worked just fine for avoiding being burned to a crisp, Force Push lessened the amount of fiery breath (after I got the full Force Push from the Greybeards, I discovered I could use it to shove the fire right back up the dragons’ throats if I had the right angle and timed it perfectly. Their expressions were priceless when it worked!), and Timeout worked the first time I tried it, allowing me to get close enough to slice a large gash in its wing before it got away. It only worked the one time, though – once it knew I could do that, it took measures to keep me from doing it again. What those were, I don’t know, but every time I tried, it spoke something that stopped it.
I knew the boring part of the trip was over when we stepped into the inn and the keeper looked up and said, not “Welcome!” or “Have a seat, I’ll send someone right over!” or “Come on in!” or any other normal greeting; instead, he stared at us with sleepless eyes and whispered, “If I were you I’d stay away from the barrow on the hill. It’s haunted.”
Since barrows on hills were exactly what we were hoping for, this news did not come across as he planned. Instead, I grinned and did my best Obi Wan Kenobi impression: “Haunted barrows are our speciality!”
I don’t care what you say, the prequels were awesome.
Don’t feed the bastards; grab the high ground instead.
Edited by jfraser
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