Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The Line Begins to Blur	By : VirusVescichetta Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 61884 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Look at the URL. Now back to the disclaimer. Now the URL. Back to the disclaimer. Sadly, I don't own Skyrim or make money off it, but you can now read a story that's written as though I did. And yes, I just wasted a mod's valuable time.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
"By the Nine, I was starting to think that place didn't have an exit," I spoke as I inhaled the crisp mountain air of outside. Hadvar and I had spent the last two hours, at least, trying to get out of Helgen Keep. A clawed finger absentmindedly poked at dark grey scales through the slit a Stormcloak blade had left in the side of my leather armour.

"I'm glad you decided to come with me. I wouldn't have made it out of there alive without your help," the Imperial smiled at me gratefully.

"Sure you would've. You just might be missing a couple pieces," I brushed the comment off, hiding the fact that his thanks actually made me somewhat uncomfortable. The comment also reminded me of the now stunted spike on the back left side of my head, causing me to move my hand from my armour to it. I was surprised that the blow hadn't knocked me unconscious, and was thankful I tended to heal quickly. My earlier concussion was gone and I hadn't experienced anymore periods of hazy vision or lightheadedness.

Hadvar noticed and gave my hand a quick nod. "I was sure that bear had you when he swiped your helmet off. I told you we should've snuck by it."

"It'll grow back in a couple days," I shrugged. "Though I am upset about that helmet. It's harder than you might think to carve holes so I can actually wear one."

"I can imagine," he nodded as we started walking down the path. He was leading the way, though to where I had no idea. It wasn't something we had really discussed before. "Finding Argonian clothing must be a trying experience."

"Sometimes. I'm surprised no clever elf has cornered the market on it, yet. He'd make a killing," I remarked offhandedly. "Where are we going, anyway? I'm...mostly just following you right now."

"To Riverwood, a little village just a couple hours down this road," he pointed vaguely northeast. "My uncle is the blacksmith there, so we should at least have a place to stay until we're back on our feet."

I just nodded and we continued on in silence for some minutes before another question occurred to me. "Why was I arrested, anyway? Insofar as I know, border crossing isn't a crime."

Hadvar seemed rather embarrassed as he answered. "You were caught with those Stormcloaks in an ambush by mistake. Believe me, if it were up to me I would have let you go."

"But your captain was a bitch," I finished. "And she probably burned for it. I think there's a word for that."

He nodded and was silent for a moment and then suddenly turned to me. "Look, I know your first impression of the Legion wasn't very receptive, but we could use someone like you in our ranks," his suggestion took me by surprise.

"And why exactly would I want to join up with the people who just tried to have me executed because they were too lazy to sort out some logistics?" I looked at him incredulously. "I don't even know what you're fighting for. No news of any conflict here has reached Cyrodiil." I thought about that for a moment before he answered. "Well, not the civilian populace, at any rate. I'm sure it's all they talk about in the Legion down there."

Most of the rest of the trip to Riverwood was spent by him explaining the situation in Skyrim. Apparently it boiled down to Ulfric Stormcloak murdering the High King over a religious matter and starting a war with the Empire. "You don't honestly think the dragons are on the Stormcloaks' side," I raised a sceptical eye-ridge.

"It attacked just as Ulfric was to be executed. Why else would it do that?"

"Actually, it attacked just as I was to be executed," I countered. "And then it tried to light me on fire. I think it was just a random attack that happened to be really, really well-timed, especially for me."

"I hope you are right," he said. We came around the next bend to see what I assumed to be the gate to Riverwood. My thoughts were all but confirmed when Hadvar picked up his pace. "It's good to be back in Riverwood. It's been years since I was last here," he said as we crossed the threshold into the town.

I nodded quietly as I looked around. It was a very quiet, quaint little village; the only sounds reaching my keen hearing were from the river running through town and the waterwheel it turned. Said waterwheel ran a sawmill, which two people were busily working at while another chopped the logs into more manageable pieces. Not far from the entrance was a glowing red forge, and across from that was what looked like a shop or trading post. I couldn't see any further in, but my observation was cut short anyway by Hadvar hurriedly making his way towards the man working the forge.

"Uncle Alvor!" he called out as he approached.

"Hadvar?" the man looked up quizzically from the metal he was pounding. He was middleaged and had a slight touch of grey in his beard, but a lifetime of smithing had clearly kept him strong and fit. He finished shaping the piece of metal in his hands, dropped it into a basin of water and walked over to greet Hadvar with a hug. "It's good to see you. Did you just get some time off?"

"Not exactly," Hadvar shook his head. "We have a lot to talk about."

Alvor seemed to take note of his sombre tone and gave a nod before turning to me. "And who is this?"

"He's...a friend," my companion answered after a moment. "He helped me out with some trouble recently. His name's Kailev-Tel."

"Call me Kai," I said as I shook Alvor's hand. He had a strong grip, and seemed quite pleased to learn that I did, too.

"Well, any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. Please, come inside. You look like you could use a bite to eat."

It was starting to darken outside by the time Hadvar and I had finished explaining what had happened in Helgen. "A dragon..." Alvor spoke as though in awe. "I thought they were only a legend."

"Perhaps Hilde wasn't speaking nonsense earlier, after all," his wife Sigrid said. "She mentioned seeing a dragon flying towards Whiterun. We all assumed she was imagining things."

"If only it were so," Hadvar shook his head.

"Still, we've had far too much talk of dragons and war for today," Sigrid suddenly stood up, looking quite determined. "Come on, Dorthe, help me prepare supper for Hadvar and his friend." She turned towards me at the last.

The young girl had sat staring at me nearly since we entered the house, and despite her mother's words she continued to do so. "You've never seen an Argonian before, have you?" I asked her with a slight smile. She shook her head, transfixed by the razor-sharp teeth lining my mouth. "Don't worry, I'm not nearly as mean as I look. Go and help your mother." She finally stood and went along with Sigrid, earning a slight chuckle from her father.

"There aren't many Argonians in Skyrim, it's true. The few that there are mostly live in Riften or Windhelm working the docks," he explained.

"That's usually where we end up," I remarked.

"Which is a shame," Hadvar interjected. "The Argonians I've fought beside have been some of the most competent warriors I've ever met."

"Black Marsh forces us to be tough and skilled," I nodded. "The beasts there aren't known to be particularly friendly. Either we figure out how to evade them or kill them...or we get eaten."

"And if the Stormcloaks have their way there won't be any of you left in Skyrim before too long," the soldier continued. I had to give him credit: he was certainly persistent.

I decided to bait him a little bit. "Which would hardly be in my best interests."

His eyes lit up almost immediately. "So then you'll-"

"I'll think about it," I cut him off. "I'm not making any promises. Truth be told, I'd rather avoid taking any sides in this conflict, if I can. It isn't my problem."

"Unfortunately, lad, it may well turn into your problem," Alvor shook his head as Sigrid and Dorthe returned with our food. "Each day Skyrim is split more and more. Neighbours turning on neighbours...It isn't the way things should be."

"We can speak on this more tomorrow. For now, let's just enjoy our food," his wife shushed him. "Though I must admit, I don't rightly know what it is Argonians eat. I hope this will do."

"We eat the same as anyone else," I assured her as I speared a piece of meat on my plate with a fork. "Except for bread. It gets stuck in our teeth something awful and you wouldn't believe how hard these things are to keep clean as it is."

I woke up the next morning on a bedroll in their basement, which certainly beat whatever hole I could've dug myself outside. Alvor and Sigrid had assured me that I was welcome to stay for as long as I needed and could help myself to whatever food was around their house. I actually felt a bit guilty at receiving such hospitality when I hadn't done anything to earn it, so I decided that I should work to earn my keep.

I went outside to find Alvor at his forge, as I expected, and offered to help him with whatever I could. "Have you ever done any sort of smithing before?" he asked as he heated and pounded at what was shaping up to be a sword.

"No," I admitted, a little embarrassed. "Though I wouldn't mind learning, if you'd be willing to teach me."

He stopped what he was doing and stared at me seriously for several moments before giving a curt nod and beckoning me over with his head. I was actually somewhat eager as I strode over to join him.

The next couple hours were spent with Alvor teaching me how to work the forge, making it hot enough to make metal workable without being so hot it warped it. I learned the differences in heat for different metals like iron and steel, as far as he could teach me. He readily admitted to simply being a capable blacksmith; he was no master of the craft. If I wanted to learn from a true master, he said, I would have to seek out Eorlund Gray-Mane in Whiterun, a much larger town to the northeast.

By the end, though, he seemed to believe I was well on my way to becoming quite the smith, myself. Aside from helping him with his own orders, I had sharpened and strengthened my blades, toughened my armour and crafted a new helmet for myself that quite happily accommodated the spikes and spines on my head and neck. "Argonian equipment is the most difficult to make," he said as he watched me work. "You have to account for a thicker tail than with Khajiit, not to mention all the spikes and horns you have sticking out of you."

"I guess that puts me at something of an advantage, then," I smirked as I stitched a wool tunic into my leather armour to help protect against the cold. "What should I do with all the extra equipment I made?"

"Take it across the road to the trading post. They'll give you some gold or supplies for it, I'm sure," he answered. I did as he instructed, gathering up my assorted weapons and bits of armour and carrying them across the cobblestones to Riverwood Trader.

I fumbled with the door, trying to balance the load in my arms without dropping any of it. The door suddenly opened to reveal the very pretty face of a young Imperial woman. "Would you like a hand?" she asked with a smile.

"No, no, I'm quite alright," I smiled back as I slipped in past her. "Just thought you might like to buy or trade some equipment."

"Perhaps," the man standing behind the counter sounded apprehensive. "Let's take a look and we'll see what it's worth."

Several minutes later, after a bit of conversation and some sneaky haggling, I was walking out of the shop with about a hundred septims, a leather backpack and some basic supplies and potions. After all, my stay in Riverwood wasn't permanent, and I knew that at some point soon I'd be leaving, though exactly where to remained a mystery to me. The owner of the trade post, Lucan Valerius, had mentioned a nearby town called Whiterun, so that seemed as good a choice as any.

I dropped off my newly acquired goods at Alvor's house, then went out and asked if he needed anymore help with his smithing. "No, but you could go ask Hod, if you're looking for work. He runs the mill, and he's always looking for a good pair of hands," he told me.

I did as he said and wandered over to the lumber mill across the river. Working the saw was an older Nord man who I assumed to be Hod. He dropped a log onto the track and set it running against the saw and turned to me. "So, you must be the Argonian staying at Alvor's house," he said aloud in a thick Skyrim accent.

I made a great show of looking across the village. "Are you sure about that? This place is swarming with them and other races tend to find us hard to tell apart."

He seemed less than amused by my comment and I mentally marked him down as someone with no sense of humour or irony. "Is there something I can help you with?" he quickly cut to the point, reaching to pull down another log to be cut.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could give me any work. Preferably the paying kind," I said.

He motioned to a chopping block at the bottom of the stairs leading to the saw. "I'll pay you for whatever wood you can chop by the time I'm done with these logs."

I gave a nod of acknowledgement before hopping down to the block. An axe was quite handily sitting nearby on a table that I grabbed and hefted to get used to the weight. The pile of wood to be chopped was huge, but hardly insurmountable. After the first chop I decided my leather tunic was only going to get in the way and shucked it off, revealing a torso marked with the pale pocks and lines of many scars, though none were quite so striking as the three raised slashes running down the left side of my face across my eye and cheek.

The early afternoon sun was hot on the dark grey scales of my back as my axe came down on what felt like the hundredth piece of wood. I had lost track of how many I had chopped or how long I had been chopping for and my arms were starting to grow a little tired from the constant swinging of the axe, but I still had wood to cut so I pressed on. If there was one thing I could truly pride myself on it was work ethic; I refused to let a job go half-finished. Still, I had to wonder how many logs Hod possibly had to saw through that it could take so long.

A woman clearing her throat nearby caught my attention and I turned to face the woman from the shop earlier. In her hand was a canteen she had held out to me. "You look like you could use something to drink," she offered with a smile.

I accepted with a returned smile and quickly downed a mouthful of what I happily discovered to be cold water. "Thanks. Argonians have a little trouble with that whole sweating thing you humans do," I remarked after downing half of the water. The rest I poured over my head and back, cooling my overheated scales and making them shine in the sun.

I could swear I caught the young woman staring before she cleared her throat again, almost nervously. "I'm Camilla, by the way," she said as she brushed a stray hair behind her ear. The display of human femininity actually caught me a little off guard.

"Kai," I introduced myself.

"So, Argonians can't sweat?" she asked somewhat lamely as though trying to make conversation. I briefly thought she was trying to flirt with me and suppressed a chuckle at the ridiculous notion.

"Nope. We can breathe underwater, though, and pretty much never get sick, so I think it's a fair trade," I said as I handed back her canteen and resumed chopping.

"I didn't know you couldn't get sick," she suddenly seemed very interested, so I decided to indulge her a little.

"A lot of creatures in Black Marsh carry diseases, so we've just gotten more or less immune to it over time. A lot of creatures try to eat us, too, but so far we haven't picked up an immunity to that," I explained. "Though I suppose we've built up a resistance, if stabbing a giant snake in the face with a knife counts."

I actually heard her laugh quietly at my stupid joke before excusing herself to retrieve me some more water. Considering my introduction to Skyrim, I was actually fairly surprised at the hospitality I had been shown in Riverwood.

Hod came walking down the steps of the saw mill just as I was taking another deep drink of water. "Friend of yours, Camilla?" he sounded almost amused.

"Oh, no. We're having a wild, steamy affair," I deadpanned. "Or do you actually need to be in a relationship to have an affair? I can never remember." Hod looked somewhat bemused and Camilla looked at me nearly aghast. I simply shrugged. "Okay, maybe a little inappropriate, but I thought it was kind of funny."

"He looked like he could use a drink, chopping so much wood," she shook her head at me and turned to Hod.

"You've certainly cut a lot more than I thought you would," the Nord nodded approvingly. "Looks like more than Faendal would chop in a week. Lazy Bosmer."

Camilla sighed and shook her head again. "Bring the canteen back to the shop, once you're done here," she told me before heading off.

I was about to tell her that once Hod had paid me I'd be done when the man cut me off. "If have more paying work for you, if you're interested."

"Depends on the work, I suppose," I said as I took a swig of water.

"I just need some help sawing the logs I just cut into smaller pieces so we can actually do something with them," he explained. I nodded and followed him over to the large pile of half logs at the far end of the mill.

Between the two of us and a long bow saw we made short work of the pile of wood, though I could tell by my tired muscles that I'd probably be sore later. Hod handed me a fairly heavy coin purse once we were done with another of his approving smiles. "There you go. Honest pay for honest work."

I thanked him for the coin, retrieved my armour and started my way back to the Riverwood Trader to return Camilla's canteen. On the way I was stopped by a young Nord man whose only real defining feature was blonde hair he had clearly spent too much time working on. "Hey, you're the Argonian looking for work around town, right?"

"Word certainly travels fast around here," I raised an eyebrow at him. "Something I can help you with?"

"Yes. Camilla Valerius knows I'm the best man in Riverwood," I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. It was obvious where this was going. "Faendal is kidding himself into thinking any differently, but he's been spending a lot of time at the Riverwood Trader when I'm not around."

I had to wonder what possessed him to come to a complete stranger for help with his girl problems. "Well that just sounds awful. Two people in a small town spending time together, possibly becoming friends. How horrible," I remarked dryly. "Or are you just concerned that maybe someone is trying to steal her away from you?"

"That's exactly what he's trying to do," he seemed rather ignorant of the sarcasm dripping from my voice. "But I have a plan to stop that little idea of his. Take this letter and deliver it to her, saying it's from Faendal," he said as he passed me a slip of paper. "Do this for me and I'll make sure you're rewarded. I make enough money as a bard at The Sleeping Giant to spare a few coins for this."

He walked away with an air of arrogance I couldn't help but feel would be better off doused in the river. I looked over the note and almost snorted at the ridiculousness of it. I decided that I should probably hear Faendal's side of this story, too, and set out to look for him.

Finding a Wood Elf in a Nord village turned out to be as simple a task as it seemed. "Excuse me, but are you Faendal?" I asked as I approached, despite knowing the answer.

"Yes," he answered cautiously. "Is there something you need from me, stranger?"

"Oh, not really. I just wanted to see who Sven was causing so much fuss about," I remarked in an offhanded tone.

"What's that blowhard been saying about me?" Faendal was instantly defensive, just as I'd assumed he would be.

"Just that he had some plan to make sure you and Camilla didn't get too close," I said. I didn't want to reveal the false letter unless I truly had to.

"Hm. Divines only know what that fool is thinking," the elf said dismissively. "Still...just in case, if you wouldn't mind I'd like you to deliver this letter to Camilla and say it's from him. It should put a stop to any plan Sven thinks he's figured out."

I took the note wordlessly with a nod and left towards the shop. I was actually somewhat disappointed that both men turned out to be the same. It just went to show that being a jackass knows no race. I also thought that maybe it would teach the both of them not to let people they had never met handle their personal issues.

When I arrived at the Riverwood Trader I found Camilla and Lucan arguing about something. In their excitement they didn't notice me standing at the entrance and I took the opportunity to listen in.

"For the last time, you're not going! It's too dangerous!" Lucan was all but shouting at his sister.

"Someone needs to go after them! We can't just let them get away with stealing that claw," she shot right back.

It was then that Lucan noticed me standing nearby and quickly hushed Camilla. "We can discuss this later, when there aren't customers around."

I looked between them for a moment before sighing. "I'm probably going to regret this, but...is something the matter?"

A/N: This chapter is random as fuck and all over the place, but I swear that's not what every one is going to be like. I just had a lot of ideas for how I wanted the initial stay in Riverwood to be and this kind of ended as a mash-up of all of them. Clearly there's a bit of a story arc to be followed for a couple more chapters, but after that I'd be happy to do this in true Elder Scrolls fashion and follow whatever questline someone requests. If you want to see Kai do any particular quest (or series of quests), just leave a review and I'll try to work it in to be believable with the overall story flow. Considering the sheer scope of the game, there's definitely potential to craft a rather epic (at least as far as length goes) story out of it. With gratuitous violence, sex and sarcasm along the way.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Line Begins to Blur