A True Companion (Illusionfish x Battle Bunny Riven)

[Illusionfish]

Torah gra-Wroth was in trouble. And she knew it. Her massive greataxe was almost useless, due to the fact that she couldn't get to the enemy who were firing magic and arrows at her, peppering her greenish skin with small holes and assorted magical effects. She fought against the spells immobilising her, taking a few steps forward and releasing a savage roar, actually scaring a few of them so much they stopped firing for a few seconds, granting her a very brief reprieve from the onslaught.

They had attacked out of nowhere, just as the first rays of morning sun had peeked over the slopes of The Throat of The World, bathing the area in warm golden light. She had emerged from a small cave nearby, having rested for the night, and unready for the attack had barely enough time to draw her weapon before she was paralysed and under attack. She wasn't in the best shape ever, which was probably why they had attacked her, thinking her an easy target. She smiled at the thought. Orcs were never easy targets.

She had dispatched the few attackers who came close, swinging her two handed weapon in massive arcs and cleaving their bodies into pieces. Those pieces lay scattered around her now. Thinking quickly, she grabbed a shield where it lay, abandoned by the dead, and blocked a few arrows with it before it shattered. But it had served it's purpose, allowing her to move closer to the enemy and their eventual death at her hand. Then the onslaught continued. Grabbing a red bottle from her pocket, she gulped down the contents, magic healing her multiple wounds as she continued to try and defend herself.

 

[Battle Bunny Riven]

Freyja Frost-Guard was on her way back to Whiterun from Rorikstead when she heard the commotion. What exactly was going on was hard to tell, but her ears had definitely heard the sounds of battle - the shouting of war cries, the clashing of steel, and the crackle of magic. It wasn't too much farther ahead of her now, and she was in a dead sprint to get there before the battle was over. With the current state of affairs, it was most likely a skirmish between the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Legion. While Freyja had not officially laid her allegiance out to either side, she always intervened in the fights with the interest of sparing the lives of her nordic brothers and sisters. How she wasn't a wanted woman by the Legion yet was a blessing from Talos, himself.

Of course, Freyja had always been blessed. She had been the daughter of a great blacksmith and she had learned that craft from him. She had shown considerable skill as a smith and had even crafted all of her own armor and weapons from the time that she had left home till the present day. Her mother had been a sword-maiden, to boot, and her skills with the blade were something of a local legend back home. Needless to say, she passed those legendary skills to her daughter. Then there was Freyja's uncle... He was an odd fellow by nordic standards - used magic and the like. Freyja learned from him, too. He taught her to wield frost magic with the same proficiency that she could swing a blade. The end result of all of this training and tutoring was a dangerous sword-maiden with a powerful sword arm and equally dangerous skills with icy magics. That was how Freyja earned her title of Frost-Guard.

Finally, Freyja arrived at the scene of the fighting and what she saw was not what she was expecting. Instead of a climactic struggle between the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Legion, she found a lone orc woman who had managed to get herself into trouble with a hoard of bandits. Surely this orsimer knew better than to venture out of town alone like this? Skyrim was a dangerous place and it had only gotten more dangerous now that there were rumors floating about that dragons had returned to the region.

Freyja stood atop the rocky cliff overlooking the battle for several moments before she decided what she would do. The orsimer deserved whatever she got for venturing out here. This was a harsh and dangerous land. Everyone knew that; even the folks that did not live here. On the other hand, she was a Companion and it would not be honorable to simply allow these bandits to have their way with any poor traveler. In the end, Freyja knew that she had to intervene.

Orsimer were known for their ferocity and Freyja was confident that if she could stop the mage then the orc could handle the rest herself. Having not yet been noticed, Freyja raised her right hand and pointed it towards the bandit mage. Her eyes and hand began to glow with a gentle white glow mere seconds before an ice spike all but erupted from the warrior woman's hand and went flying towards the bandit mage. Neither he, nor his comrades had seen it coming. He never stood a chance.

The spike struck the mage in the back and it pierced through his chest before coming to a stop mid-way through. Moments later, the now-dead corpse of the bandit mage fell to the ground. Now that the orc did not have him to worry with, she should have been fine.

 

[Illusionfish]

Freyja Frost-Guard was on her way back to Whiterun from Rorikstead when she heard the commotion. What exactly was going on was hard to tell, but her ears had definitely heard the sounds of battle - the shouting of war cries, the clashing of steel, and the crackle of magic. It wasn't too much farther ahead of her now, and she was in a dead sprint to get there before the battle was over. With the current state of affairs, it was most likely a skirmish between the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Legion. While Freyja had not officially laid her allegiance out to either side, she always intervened in the fights with the interest of sparing the lives of her nordic brothers and sisters. How she wasn't a wanted woman by the Legion yet was a blessing from Talos, himself.

Of course, Freyja had always been blessed. She had been the daughter of a great blacksmith and she had learned that craft from him. She had shown considerable skill as a smith and had even crafted all of her own armor and weapons from the time that she had left home till the present day. Her mother had been a sword-maiden, to boot, and her skills with the blade were something of a local legend back home. Needless to say, she passed those legendary skills to her daughter. Then there was Freyja's uncle... He was an odd fellow by nordic standards - used magic and the like. Freyja learned from him, too. He taught her to wield frost magic with the same proficiency that she could swing a blade. The end result of all of this training and tutoring was a dangerous sword-maiden with a powerful sword arm and equally dangerous skills with icy magics. That was how Freyja earned her title of Frost-Guard.

Finally, Freyja arrived at the scene of the fighting and what she saw was not what she was expecting. Instead of a climactic struggle between the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Legion, she found a lone orc woman who had managed to get herself into trouble with a hoard of bandits. Surely this orsimer knew better than to venture out of town alone like this? Skyrim was a dangerous place and it had only gotten more dangerous now that there were rumors floating about that dragons had returned to the region.

Freyja stood atop the rocky cliff overlooking the battle for several moments before she decided what she would do. The orsimer deserved whatever she got for venturing out here. This was a harsh and dangerous land. Everyone knew that; even the folks that did not live here. On the other hand, she was a Companion and it would not be honorable to simply allow these bandits to have their way with any poor traveler. In the end, Freyja knew that she had to intervene.

Orsimer were known for their ferocity and Freyja was confident that if she could stop the mage then the orc could handle the rest herself. Having not yet been noticed, Freyja raised her right hand and pointed it towards the bandit mage. Her eyes and hand began to glow with a gentle white glow mere seconds before an ice spike all but erupted from the warrior woman's hand and went flying towards the bandit mage. Neither he, nor his comrades had seen it coming. He never stood a chance.

The spike struck the mage in the back and it pierced through his chest before coming to a stop mid-way through. Moments later, the now-dead corpse of the bandit mage fell to the ground. Now that the orc did not have him to worry with, she should have been fine.

Torah heard the icy crackle of frost magic as the arrows stopped flying. Had they run out? It was a common problem for bandits, who never seemed to have full quivers but she nevertheless looked around in surprise. Was this someone new coming to join the fray who would surely finish the fight? Then she saw the body of the mage with a long shard of ice, sticking out of his body. The archers had stopped firing in what seemed like shock, but even if it was only temporary, it gave Torah her chance.

She charged the bowmen and women, her greataxe singing through the harsh cold air to her targets. They were pitifully slow, no match for her speed or ferocity as she cut them down. Blood splattered the ground as limbs were lopped off like tree branches before an arborist. They had attacked her, and if they couldn't take her 1 on 1, they didn't deserve to live anymore. She wasn't innocent by many standards, but ambushing with a greater party is cowardly in any form.

As she separated another head, she heard the tight twang of a bowstring being released and an arrow grazed her left ear. This one was a remarkably good shot. Turning, she lifted her axe high before throwing it at the bandit. They never stood a chance before the axe was spinning towards them and the blade, already slick with the blood of the other bandits, lodged in his skull. The battle finished, she walked up and retrieved her axe. She was going to have to either repair it or get a new one soon, due to there now being cracks in the metal and splintering on the shaft.

Facing the group of now dead bodies, Torah placed a hand over her heart and saluted them. They had ambushed her, true, and that was cowardly, but despite this, they had fought well. She looked behind her to see a Nord woman, still standing atop a rocky outcrop. "She must be the one who helped me" Torah thought as she jogged up to the woman.

 

[Battle Bunny Riven]

Though the orc was not from Skyrim, there could be no doubting the race of the woman that had come to her rescue. She was fair-haired and, despite being a woman, was tall enough to look any male orc in the eye. This woman was a Nord; the native peoples of Skyrim. Well, perhaps not native, but they had been in the region long enough to call it their own, to say the least. All of Tamriel now considered them to be the rightful inhabitants of the continent's frozen cap.

"You are lucky that I happened by," the Nord said very matter-of-factly as she appraised the orc. She didn't look much worse for the wear, all things considered. "Skyrim is a harsh land and our less friendly inhabitants are even harsher. Those bandits would have stripped you of everything that you own and slit your throat; most likely after having their way with you with a body like that."

The Nord woman spoke so casually of matters of robbery, murder, and rape that it might be an every day subject in this frozen wasteland. The orsimer were a hardy people, however, and their lives were as hard and harsh as those of the Nords regardless of where they called home in Tamriel. If this orc woman had been born and raised in a Stronghold then these were not matters that would have likely shocked or surprised her. Perhaps that is why this woman had come to Skyrim... Though the orsimer met cold shoulders and harsh tongue no matter where they went, the Nords were the most understanding and accepting of them. Their cultures were not all that different when it came to core fundamentals.

 

[Illusionfish]

Thanks dying on her lips, Torah stopped in front of the woman when she began speaking. The flippant way the Nord spoke was actually amusing to Torah as she listened. When the Nord finished, Torah started.

"Yeah, well, thank you. You saved my life." She knelt before the Nord woman, before continuing. "As such, I owe you a Life-Debt. You need simply call on me and I will repay what I owe" she said solemnly before rising. "I am Torah gra-Wroth. Would you permit me your name?" she said rather formally yet brusquely. If she was being honest with herself, the stranger had saved her life. She most certainly would have died if that mage had continued his onslaught.

"Where are you bound for? If you will permit it, I shall like to accompany you. Two warriors are always better then one" she offered, appraising the Nord. The pale blue eyes and brown hair giving the woman a foreign beauty, whilst the muscles evident in her chest and arms indicated she was no stranger to battle. There was something else though. Something subtle that lay behind the flawless skin. Torah couldn't place it, but it was like this Nord exuded power. Torah pushed it to the back of her mind. This was the one she owed a life-debt to, and she would follow the Nord's orders without question

 

[Battle Bunny Riven]

Freyja's brow quirked to see the orc woman humble herself before her Nordic savior. This was simply not the way things were done back in Jorrvaskr. Some of the other Companions were arrogant and their pride would would never allow them to admit that another had pulled them from the edge of death. Even those who were not too proud or stubborn to do so were her Sheild-Sisters and Brothers. Thanks were not needed. This is what the Companions did for one another. Of course, this orc woman was not a Companion... Freyja had not saved this green-skinned beauty in the hopes of profiting from her efforts. Still, the Companions were normally paid for their heroic deeds and this woman clearly had nothing of value with her. Perhaps her vow of loyalty was an acceptable payment.

"I am Freyja Frost-Guard," the Nordic woman spoke in a slightly amused tone, "and I am traveling to Whiterun but I am afraid that there is still a day's journey ahead of me. I do not suppose that there would be any harm in allowing you to accompany me, but I will not be burdened. You will keep up or you will be left behind. You seem more than capable of defending yourself anyway; for as long as that axe holds, at least."

There was still an arrogant tone in the Nordic woman's voice. Perhaps it was just the way that she spoke. It seemed a common thing for Nords of notable power or wealth, though this woman did not look as though she were wealthy and if she were the wife or daughter of one of the Jarls then she surely would not be out in the wilds alone. There had to be something about this woman that elevated her sense of worth...

 

[Illusionfish]

The clear arrogance in Freyja's tone grated against Torah's nerves. "What makes her so special?" she thought silently. It didn't sound like she was trying to show rank, ignorance or cruelty. Either way, the Orc filed it away for later thought.

"I would be honoured to accompany you on your travels" Torah said to the Nord. "I can keep up regardless, so do not burden yourself with thoughts that I may not be able to do so."

Torah, hefted her greataxe, running a green tinged finger over the pitted metal. It would need sharpening when she got a chance. Putting the axe in it's holster, she looked at the position of the sun.
"We should get moving. It is easier to navigate by daylight." she suggested to the pale skinned Nord.

 

[Battle Bunny Riven]

The nord woman merely smiled before turning her back on the orsimer woman and starting back towards the road. As she walked, her hips and body swayed in the way that any woman of her figure would. Though she held a definite air of power about her, she did not hold it at the sacrifice of feminine grace and allure. It was yet another trait that the the orsimer and nords shared; both races' women were as strong and stout as their males but neither sacrificed their female charms.

"Easy does not often coincide with safe in Skyrim, orc," the Nord said idly as she walked along the frozen landscape towards the road. "Nightfall may bring with it the difficulty of navigation, but here in Whiterun, it brings with it a certain safety. The trolls and the giants sleep at night. The bandits hold up in their encampments and the bears are less active. Only the wolves and the sabrecats are more active here at night. Skyrim has its fair share of werewolves and vampires, but they are most common in our southern regions."

There was a certain irony that the nord would warn her new companion of the potential threat of werewolves, considering that the blood of the beast coursed through her own veins. She was a member of the Companions and, furthermore, a member of their inner Circle. Her shield-sister, Aela the Huntress, had passed that gift on to Freyja. She was hesitant at first, but she and Aela were very close. Ultimately, Freyja accepted the blood only because it was a gift from Aela.

 

[Illusionfish]

"Safe? If you want safe, you would probably be holed up in a pretty house as close to a Jarl as possible. As for the various 'dangers', well, we just have to be a little more careful won't we?" Torah retorted, following the Nord.

The Orsimer followed the Freyja as they walked, thoughts unrelated to the relative safety of the journey going through her mind as she watched the other woman walk with such a raw sensuality in her stride it was near impossible for the Orc to tear her eyes away from Freyja's very feminine figure. She did though, but her eyes did seem to wander a bit, straight back to where she didn't want them.

Torah cleared her throat. "So, Frost-Guard wasn't it? Why are you out and about?" she asked in her bass voice, simply wanting to make conversation.

 

[Battle Bunny Riven]

"I am a Companion," the nord woman answered without so much as turning her head to speak over her shoulder at the orc woman. It mattered not. Freyja's voice carried well enough to be heard clearly. "I was ordered to Rorikstead to remedy a problem that a local barmaid was having with some ruffians in her tavern. Folks far and wide tend to pay well for the services of the Companions because we always get results."

Thinking back on her trip, Frejya could not help but smirk. The barmaid had paid very well, indeed, but it had not been with coin or ale. Freyja had a special gift when it came to helping the poor... The Companions did not work for free, you see. most worked for coin but there were some that accepted other forms of payment. Some would take food or drink, some would take trade goods, and Freyja... Freyja would take the company of a beautiful woman and she had been paid handsomely by both the barmaid and her daughter.

"You really are quite fortunate that I happened by. Another brave hero might not have taken a 'life-debt' as suitable payment. Your savior could have very well been worse than the bandits themselves."

 

[Illusionfish]

Torah looked at the Nord in confusion. "What's the Companions?" she thought as Freyja described her reasons for being out of any of the towns. "I'll figure it out later. If its a group, maybe they are looking for members" the thoughts ran through the Orc's head before being quickly dismissed by the thought of a 'brave hero' saving her instead of Freyja. The green skinned woman shuddered a tiny bit before regaining her composure.

"Well, I'm sure a skilled warrior such as yourself handled the situation with ease" Torah said, her voice still sounding like steel despite the slight optimism in the sentence. One of the cons of being an Orc, your vocal chords vibrated at lower frequencies, sounding rough and deep. Torah let the conversation flag a little as the duo continued to walk.