"And then I took an arrow to the leg..." [NF & MT]

[mystictiger]

He'd forgotten how cold it got this far north, certainly far colder than anything back home in Hammerfell. Kellen trudged along the North Keep - Solitude road, with each step feeling harder, his pack feeling heavier. It had been a stupid mistake and he cursed himself for the hundredth time to let himself get caught in the open. A single lucky arrow had lodged itself into the meet of his thigh. He'd done his best to tie it off with bandages, but his fur-lined leather leggings were already sticky with blood. He stopped again to gather his breath, sitting in the fragrant alpine grasses. The mixture of gear he'd picked up on his travels had kept most of the cold off; a fur-lined cape, leather armour, and a fur-lined vest. But that was before it got a little soaked. Water. Blood. Neither of them are particularly good for insulation, nor were the added sword-holes.

He adjusted the buckle on his swordbelt again. The Hammerfell steel had served him well these last few years. And, with a little bit more tenacity ad luck, for another few. His hair had gotten free and was hanging in his face. For some reason he found this hilarious.

Deep breath.

Focus

"Well." he said out loud, his voice breaking the wind-howl monotony.

The rational part of his mind watched with a detached interest. He knew that the weather hadn't changed over-much; it was cold, and it was staying cold. The sensation of it getting colder was blood-loss and shock. Rather, it was the loss of blood. He could feel his endurance trickle and drain down his leg to pool in his boot.

"... just a little further. Whatever that smoke is. There or you'll not see dawn, old man. Your on stupid fault - you had to come up here to show you weren't afraid of a little snow and hardship And stop talking to yourself, it's unbecoming."

And so he shoved his hands into his armpits and kept walking. Walking. Head bowed into the wind and he kept walking. He didn't pay the bridge itself much attention as he trudged across it. The Four Shields Tavern only really registered dimly as he hammered on the wooden door. Well, hammered. He felt as weak as a the local deer that he'd eaten. More like collapsed heavily against the door. But he was Ra Ga - part of the warrior wave.

Even in such times it was necessary to keep some pretense of martial bearing. So he'd prop himself up against the wall, waiting for someone to answer the door. If all else failed, they'd find a suitably warrior-like ice-statue there in the morning.

 

[nerdfuck]

A stark contrast to the outside elements, the inside of the Tavern was warm with a fire that always seemed to be alight. The silky smell of roasting stew lingered in the air along with the unmistakable smell of a strong, stiff mead. Although the numbers within the tavern was low the noise was formidable! Men laughed heartily as they told tales of their tales, a few women chattered among themselves as they enjoyed a nice loaf of bread. It was everything one might expect from a small tavern within an only slightly larger town like Dragon Bride.

"-and I told the bitch, knock on me table again an' I'll knock something inta your mouth." One man's voice rose over the rest, casually detailing a past altercation with the old man's wife. As if on cue there was a hard knock at the door. He went rigid for a moment as did the older gentlemen he was talking to. All three looked at the door a moment in silence.

"Well it looks like she's comin' for ya!" One of the men finally barked, causing laughter among the three loudest regulars there.

A tired looking middle-aged woman shook her head she passed them and approached the door. "What kind of nut knocks on a tavern door.." She reasoned with herself silently as she went. She opened the door, not sure what she would see. What she /did/ see shocked her to the core. Her eyes opened wide, mouth fell open slightly as she looked upon a very unfamiliar sight. A soft gasp could be heard from within the inn, the roaring men grew silent. A redguard. But not just a redguard. A redguard by themself was rare, but not unusual. But this redguard.. he looked of the traditional sort. There were no words for the longest moment as she looked at the man, her gaze stuck upon his own. So scared was she that she failed to even notice the man was injured. She shut the door and took a step back, still staring at the aged wood as if she could still see him standing behind it.

"Natlee, what are you doing?!" A softer voice raised up as a new figure approached from the right of her. "That was a redguard. From Hammerfell!" The young woman almost sounded excited, in fact the small quiver in her voice was impossible to miss. She moved past the woman without a second's thought and reached for the door handle only to be pulled back.

"Lorelle (Lor-ell). don't let that man in. We don't mess with his types." The older woman spoke more sternly now.

The young woman's response was a soft roll of her eyes while she pulled her arm from the woman's grasp. "Grow up." She comically told the woman easily twice her age. Lorelle finally grasped the doorknob and opened the door for the man. This time to a nicer, albiet somewhat inappropriate greeting.

"You're from Hammerfell!" She exclaimed excitedly before the door was even open all the way. Lorelle stood in the doorway, head tilting to the side, baby blue eyes wide with wonder.

Lorelle... the woman was a hidden treasure. A princess in a tower, the tower being Dragon Bridge, hiding her from the outside world. She stood at a comfortable five foot four inches, not too tall and certainly not too short. Her long, somewhat wavy hair was a striking red not often seed from nordic bearings. It fell just slightly past her shoulders and seemed to move perfectly with every fair tilt of her head. Her lips were full, eyelashes thick, hips wide, breasts considerable. There was no question as to why the young lady had ended up working in a tavern. A somewhat unfitting brown dress held her form. It was old and somewhat worn, but the low-cut neck-line made for a nice show. The cleavage that showed was white to the point it was almost glistening..

She looked the redguard up and down without restraint. To see something so exotic was exciting and rare for her, and only then did she notice the blood. Only then did she recognize the smell of blood and snow in the air. Only then did she realize the real danger the man was in. "You're injured.." She noted as her eyes seemed to glisten with concern, her excitement turning into genuine concern. "Please come in, I'll get you a mead." No.

"A cloth." No.

"A room?" Maybe that was better.

She smiled, somewhat exasperated with herself. "Please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best." As she spoke she stepped out to try and put an arm around him without hesitation, unsure of how severe his wounds were and if he would be able to walk on his own.

 

[mystictiger]

As the warmth and light spilled out from the tavern, he took a deep breath, ready to speak and make his case and offer his coin. In the broken, fractured Nordic that he'd picked up, he began to speak

"Me Kellen of Falling Blacksmith too...". His Nord really was that bad. And then she closed the door in his face.

"Tobra guhrlet!" he snarled at the frost-speckled pine door. He'd come all this way to die on someone's doorstep because the locals were too inbred and ignorant to actually open the door to someone in dire need of help, of warmth. He clenched his hand into a fist and, drawing on the last of his energy and vigor, was about to punch the door. It wouldn't do much, but at least it would be satisfying. His last act would be fuck their door up. The injustice of it made him furious. No, not the injustice - the indignity.

And then the door opened. His look of rage turned into one of pure confusion. The woman in front of him was beautiful

This is it. You're dead, or about to die and you're hallucinating. There's no way the barbarians can have produced someone so exquisite. Well, if this is death, then it's not that bad.

He stood there, staring at her for a few moments. Her questions seemed to wash over him without any impact. He blinked a few times as his brain finally caught up with his senses. He was at least a head taller than her, and so it was so easy to lean on her. She was so warm. So close. So alive. So not a death-vision. Which was all for the good.

"What? Yes, Hammerfall. And yes, I want ..." His accent was marked and alien to the local's ears, but it was still understandable.

His coin-pouch hung next to his sword, so when he reached for it, there was a collective response from the locals. They'd heard stories about Red Guards, and they Didn't Want Any Of That Kind Of Nonsense Here, thank you very much. Those that had weapons to hand reached for them. Weapons. Hah. More like tree-cutters or butchers-cleavers. They'd probably fracture when exposed to a proper blade.

"Room. Food. Mead. Clean water. Bandages."

He'd not let them see him fall. He'd not give them the satisfaction of... whatever these sheep-fuckers thought of him. It was clear that they didn't think much. And so he stood a little straighter, made his accent a little less pronounced; almost sounding like an Imperial.

"I have coin."

Kellen's movements became very careful at that point. He plucked his coin-pouch from his belt with finger and thumb and pressed it into Lorelle's spare hand. Well. From the look of it, they might kill him and rob him. Or rob him then kill him. But the young woman; she was something a little different. She belonged here as much as a longship belonged in the desert. He nodded, still leaning on the young woman with the perfect brea... focus!. He turned his face down to meet her gaze and smiled his best, warmest smile. Or at least tried to - his face was so numb that he had no idea what it was actually doing.

"Please. I just need a warm bed, hot food, and a chance to gather my wits. I mean neither you nor your people any harm"

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle took the burden of the extra weight with as much grace as she could physically muster. She may have been small but was no weakling nor priss. He seemed thankful for the help and she gladly, carefully helped to walk him in. Once they made it past the thresh hold she paused to kick the door shut behind them with her bare foot. When she turned around to continue their walk she was met with weapons being drawn. Her blue eyes widened for a moment before almost rolling all the way into the back of her head and falling out of her mouth. She tightened her fingers on him and stiffened her arm, as if a protective stance. Not that he needed protecting. She was relatively sure that if he was a bad man he would slaughter everyone in the tavern without so much as breaking a sweat, even injured.

"Yes, of course." She murmured to him, eyes locked on the locals as they seemed to die down a little and begin sheathing their miniscule weapons. "You are tired, you deserve the rest.." Her eyes wandered to the man behind the bar who only watched with an intense, ingrained prejudice. "And since we're not animals," the last word was more accusatory than anything, "we'd be happy to see you to your room. As long as you need." She took the coin as he shoved it into her hand but only to make the owner of the tavern happy, and began to lead him forward. She took him to the nearest room they had available. It was located down a nearby hallway and was one of the first rooms. Not exactly the royalty suite but it had a bed and he could rest.

"Here, sit down..." Her tone was nurturing and warm as she walked him to the bed and tried to help him sit. Once she was sure he wouldn't fall over she nodded. "Give me just a moment and I'll have the things you requested." She watched him with heavy concern before turning and leaving, pulling the door to but not shutting it just yes. He would at least have a little privacy.

Once she had found the redguard to his room she rushed to the main room and hastily gathered some cloth, a mead, and a warm bowl of beef stew. Careful not to spill, she made her way back to his room. She didn't bother knocking and entered.

"Here, to eat. And drink. It will help with the chill." She set the food and drink on his bedside table and handed him the cloth personally.

"I'm sorry for everyone out there. We don't get visitors here often, especially not ones who look like you." It wasn't so much about the color of his skin as it was his exotic looks.. everything about him practically screamed 'outsider'.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" She gave him a gentle smile. She was not like them. What they feared, she found fascinating. She had so many questions but perhaps now was not the time.

 

[mystictiger]

Once they were into the corridor, he let himself sag ever so slightly. She was an ally - feisty and protective. Perhaps some Redguard in her. He sat heavily on the bed, and let out a soft, small contented noise. By the time she had returned with her tray of good things, he had already started to make himself comfortable. His soaked vest and armour were on the back of the chair, steaming gently in front of the fire. This left him wearing nothing on his upper body except for his tattoos. His sword lay on the bed beside him, carefully oriented to be in line with the bed - something deliberate rather than casually dropped.

He had the kind of body that a hard life produced, muscular in an lean way - fit and with well developed arms. An ornate, abstract tattoo in blacks and blues swirled over one arm - presumably his sword-arm - up, and over his shoulder. It showed starkly against the rich brown of his skin. As she walked in, he was busy cutting away his old bandage; his face was a scowl of concentration.

"You need not apologise. My people are not overly welcoming to outsiders either. In a sense, I am proud that you fear my people..."

A pause as he carefully picked a few fragments of cloth from the puncture-wound. A wince of pain, still utterly focused on his leg.

"No - that isn't right. They fear me but you do not. Why is this? Have you met a Ra Gada before, perh..."

Only then did he actually look up, and the sight before him was all too enticing. He wasn't sure if it was the cleavage or the food that drew his attention most.

"That smells delicious. Thank you. Please - sit with me whilst I eat. I have had only the wind and the trees as company this last ten-day. The brigands were not overly talkative. More along the lines of We'll gut you or Argh, not the face." A chuckle. He hoped she understood this was meant as humour. Nords seemed overly dour to him.

"Please, pass me the cloth. Yes, that one. I'll clean this before I eat." He didn't think that she might not be used to the sight of blood. Amongst his kind, swordplay and first-aid were taught from an early age.

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle lifted a finger to her lips, pulling down on her bottom lip as she watched the sight before her. He had stripped of his clothes and his upper body was on full display now. As a redguard from Hammerfell she expected he would have the body of a warrior, and he did. Her expression was unreadable as she rolled onto her tip-toes a moment, deep in thought. She was pulled out of it only when he spoke.

A smile snapped onto her face as she was pulled back into the moment. He was cute the way he mixed up his words, and his accent... helped. She laughed gently to herself as her thoughts wandered on that topic and shook it off, finally lowering her hand.

She glanced at the door behind her as he prompted her to sit with him. They would kill her if she did, she was at work after all. They would come looking for her no doubt, probably expecting her to be dead on his sword.... but she could get a few minutes to talk to him and that was worth it. Her bare foot slid back to shut the door quietly with her decision.

"No, I have never met your kind... but I have read about them." Her tone seemed to pick up enthusiasm as she recounted. She moved to the bed, but rather than sitting on it she had a seat on the floor in front of him, her knees bent neatly underneath her. She looked up at him as if he were reading campfire stories. "Is it really true that it is so hot in Hammerfell, 'chicken's eggs often boiled when left unattended in the sun'?" That was a direct quote, clearly.

Lorelle really didn't give him much time to answer before she jumped topics again. "Did you get your tattoo in Hammerfell? It is lovely." She bit her bottom lip as her eyes slid off of him and onto the bed beside him. She couldn't take it anymore.

"Can I touch it?" The words were but a whisper, her eyes locked on his sword. "It's beautiful... is it truly sharper than other swords?" She shifted on her knees, eager to examine his weapon if allowed. She did not want to cross boundaries however.

 

[mystictiger]

"Slow down, and give me a moment to finish this" he said with a generous laugh. She was like the birds that lived on the fringes of the desert, darting from flower to flower in the few preciously short wet months. He did his best not to focus on her cleavage, but it was just so... there.

The water stung slightly, but it helped to shift the crusted black blood. A teeth-gritted wince, and then he tied fresh bandage in place.

"Now, your questions, one at a time. Firstly, about Hammerfell. The Alik'r Desert can get hot enough to roast the chicken, as well as boil her eggs. It is a land of sand with endless dunes. My people relish the heat, but parts of it are too hot even for us. It is said that it is a forge to temper the faithful. I am from the island of Stros M'Kai, far to the south. It is everything that this land is not - flat, warm, and with gentle cool breezes. Ah, the sunset over the ocean is ..." he didn't finish the thought, at least not out loud.

"And yes, tattoos and body art are something my people value. Some are religious, some records of valour, and some because they just look good. This..."

He took her hand in his and traced it along the forearm part. The Redguards had very different social norms about bodily contact, clearly. But then it wasn't entirely unheard of for people to walk around naked.

"... indicates that I have some modest skill with the sword. The schools in Khefrem have their own markings and styles. This is ... huh. I don't know how to say it the Imperial tongue. Blazing Sand is the closest approximation I think."

And lastly, the matter at hand.

"We are jealous of our weapons." it sounded like a no, but his eyes met hers, the keen interest. And she'd done him a great and needful service. A deep breath as he gathered himself against the fatigue and the cold and the pain.

"Stand up. You address a sword on your feet, free and proud."

And so he stood and he drew the blade. The metal was intricately detailed and patterned, as if someone had carefully inked the blade. It slid free of the scabbard with a rasping of steel on leather. The blade itself was curved in an almost sinuous manner; it made the weapon feel vaguely organic and alive as the steel rippled in the flickering lamplight. The hilt was worn leather that fitted Kellen's hand like a glove.

He presented his sword to her, hilt first.

"We take our debts very seriously, and it is only a small exaggeration to say that you saved my life. Here; please be exceptionally careful..."

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle really paid his injuries no mind. The blood didn't seem to bother her as he might have expected, and her eyes never once went to his injuries.At least for now. She put her head down with a cheekish smile when he told her to slow down. She had not meant to flood him with questions, but in a way he had opened the door. In a way.To her anyway. More or less.

She waited patiently as he tended his wounds, eyes glued to the floor to give him some semblence of privacy while he fixed himself up to the best of his abilities. Unfortunately they did not have any kind of healer in town, they were just too small, you had to go to a big city for that. He would just have to heal the old fashioned way, as nature intended.

Finally when he began to address her questions she perked back up and continued exactly where she had started, eager. Her eyes watched him, glued to him, absorbing everything he said. She did not pile questions onto her questions but rather dedicated herself to trying to apply everything he said to memory. She mouthed the name of the places he spoke of, squinting occasionally as she thought.

When he reached to take her hand a chill ran up her spine, she was not expecting it, but as he brought her hand to his arm she had no complaints. She allowed him to move her hand with ease and listened intently. There was no doubt in her mind that he was good with a blade. But by Hammerfell standards... did that mean he was extra good? Better than what might be considered good here in Skyrim? She didn't ask but it made her think.

As he addressed her next question, the big one, the important one, she dropped her eyes to the flood and returned her hand to her lap. She may or may not have read somewhere that they were... like that, with their weapons. She felt a twinge of guilt for having asked. She was about to apologize when he suddenly told her to stand. Before realizing why she was standing she did so quickly, pulling her dress down around her hips as she did so. It was about then that the meaning of his words sunk in. Her eyes widened suddenly, heart picking up pace as he reached for his weapon. She held her breath without even realizing she was doing it, and then... she made an appearance. Oh, she was beautiful. Lorelle gasped softly as she saw the pattern on the blade.

"It's..." She took a step closer to him but did not touch his weapon, only stared down upon it. She was smitten. "Please, no, allowing me to see it was enough." She finally tore her eyes off of it and looked up to him. "I have no training... I wouldn't want to hurt myself." She did however reach down to his hip to brush a fingertip gently over the sheath... just ever so slightly. It would suffice.

"You should rest... you've had a long day... My name is Lorelle... and you are?" She looked up to him, pushing a strand of her beautiful red hair behind her ear while her toes dug into the floor ever so slightly. She seemed to be a bit fidgety, for whatever reason.

 

[mystictiger]

He was shocked. The idea of someone of her age not knowing how to handle a blade?! His surprise showed on his face.

"Tomorrow I shall teach you how to hold a weapon such as mine at least. Power is nothing without control" it sounded like he was reciting some form of martial philosophy. And then the import of her words struck him. He had not even shown her the most basic of courtesy.

"I am Kellen - it is an honour to know you, Lorelle." he let the word roll around in his mouth, almost tasting it. It had a strange rhythm to it; something he wouldn't ever have heard of back home. Most of the other words he'd learned were for different kinds of snow and cold wind. A bitter thought about how penetrating it was. An involuntary shiver at that.

"And you are of course right. I'm not the one that has a tavern full of patrons to tend to either. I think it best that you return to them lest they think I have raped and murdered you. Or perhaps murdered then raped. You will have to tell me what exactly it is about my people that instills such fear in Nords"

A chuckle as he drew his sword up to his fa... no. He'd impale the blade in the ceilling. He offered a slightly curtailed version of the formal sword-salute to her, and sheathed it in a simple, elegant, fluid gesture. He remained standing as she left. He couldn't help but enjoy the view. He chuckled to himself as he finally let himself collapse into a heap. The stew was delicious, and he ended up licking the bowl clean. And then bed. It may have been a bed in a cramped, remote tavern room, but it felt like paradise. He drifted off into a deep and mostly dreamless sleep.

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle's face fell when he said he would teach her how to hold a weapon. She had absolutely no knowledge of weapons or how to go about not killing herself when handling one. She really didn't want to learn out of fear. Her head shook ever so gently, hair sliding out from behind her ear as she did so, but he didn't seem to want to take that as an answer.

A very small, almost shy smile brushed onto her lips as he told her it was an honor to know her. She looked down, trying to hide a very faint pink flush that blossomed along her cheeks. "Kellen." She spoke his name back to him, still not looking at him directly for the moment. Her smile grew ever so slightly wider as she watched the floor and finally looked up at him, cheeks now a bright shade of red compared to the pale pink they were just a few moments ago. All he did was say her name. That's all he did.

"There are worse ways to die." She responded to him gently, her eyes finally looking at the new wrapping around his injuries. She studied them a moment, a dull, distant, lost in thought kind of look, before turning away from him. The comment was surprisingly dark for the otherwise sweet and gentle woman.

She really really really wanted to giggle and run out of the room like a child when he gave her a variation of a sword-salute and remained on his feet until she left despite the pain. She instead made herself leave as casually as possible and shut the door quietly behind her without another word to the quiet, exotic man.

She paused outside of his door and finally let her grin win a place on her lips as she considered the interesting exchange. He was just so.... interesting, and exotic, and.... nnnnnng..

"LORELLE!" She snapped back to reality as she was being called back to the bar... duty called, loudly.

~~

Kellen had been staying at the inn for a few days now. It had been... interesting having him around to say the least. It was as if there were a change in the wind, everyone acted differently even though he spent most of his time locked away in his room. People were acting differently towards her too, namely her coworkers who chastised her interest in him and seemed intent to convince her that he was some kind of a monster. She felt for the redguard, she really did. Two days he had been here, they didn't treat him correctly.

Lorelle actually did not work today but she found herself at the bar anyway. For no real reason at all (amh) she was in the mood to dress up today. Her hair looked cleaned up and tied back in a loose, messy bun, she had taken a bath very recently and smelled of sweet snow berries. Today she wore a slightly nicer dress than she had the previous few nights. This one still looked a tad worn but it was a rich sultry red color, still with a low neckline though not quite as low as what she worked in. A red stain colored her plump lips... She even wore a pair of worn leather shoes, she did not wear shoes very often.

The young lady entered the tavern and approached the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools and leaning forward to speak to her boss, Baor. "Is he still here?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

The man scowled and shook his head. "Go home Lorelle, before you get yourself killed."

She frowned at him deeply. "Baor... he's a nice man, just because he's different-" She was interrupted when the other waitress approached with a few empty mugs.

"Nice?" She asked as she set the mugs down. "Now Lorelle you listen to me. Just because he seems nice doesn't mean he is. Now you're still young, I know it's exciting. If you want someone to take you away from this place to greener pastures then fine, but not him Lorelle... he's dangerous."

Lorelle could only smile and look at the hallway where he must have still been sleeping. There words did nothing to turn her interest in him. "I think he's interesting, and you better be careful talking about him like this... you wouldn't want to make him angry." She carefully adjusted her large breasts in her dress before standing from the stool. "I'm going to say hi..." There were grunts and scoffs as she got up and walked towards the hallway, but they made no move to reason with her as she trotted away, large hips swinging in delight.

"She'll learn when she's dead." Baor spoke to Natlee sternly, loudly.

Lorelle walked down the hall, small smile on her red lips. When she approached the redguard's door she knocked gently. "Wake up!" She called in to him. "You've been in that bed too long, let's take a walk. It’s a beautiful day!”


|| she would have been avoiding the sword-teaching thing if he had brought it up again at any time ||

 

[mystictiger]

Kellen had spent the last few days mostly asleep, leaving his room only to use the outhouse, or to get more food. He was reasonably sure he was being over-charged for everything, but so be it. The idea that they might also try and poison him was also amusing - good luck with that. He'd play by their petty rules. As he lay, half-asleep, he wondered how they'd be treated at home. And then answer was probably quite mercifully - the sunburn these pale-skinned folk would get would be terrible. Such pale skin, so that it almost glistened. That was a good thought.

The famed Redguard resilience was evident - as was his appetite. When she came knocking on his door, he was about to go and bathe. Which in itself was an interesting question - how on earth did the Nords get clean without freezing their nuts off? The rivers looked a little too fresh for his tastes, and he probably started to stink of sweat by now. But then the Nords weren't exactly fragrant most of the time.

"Lorelle" he said, opening the door and favouring her with a lopsided smile. He was able to support himself now, and the angry swelling and redness around his thigh had faded to exceptionally ugly bruising. "You look far better than I feel this day. You are well?"

He stood in front of her wearing his 'change of clothes', meaning comfortable leggings that ended mid-shin and looked to be made of tattered, faded cotton. They'd once been vibrant, bright red and now looked to have faded down to orange / brick-red. His shirt was likewise a little threadbare and creased, and the sleeves ended at his elbows - something that certainly would've looked more at home on Stross M'Kai than here in Skyrim. Barefoot, and with his swordbelt on, he looked decidedly odd.

 

[nerdfuck]

While she waited for Kellen to open the door Lorelle adjusted her hair slightly, preening quite vainly to ensure that she looked her best. She even arched her back, poking her ample chest out ever so slightly, she had to make up for the fact that this dress was not as low cut as her others of course. The others felt it was a youthful infatuation she had with the redguard, but truth be told it was something much more. He had something she wanted, and she was intent to get it from him.

When he called her name she put a large smile on her face and lowered her hand to her side. "Kellen." She swooned fondly. Her eyes absorbed the sight in front of her with great excitement and determination. They had adventurers stop at the inn before, but never like him. He was unique in every way and she quite liked it. Perhaps it was infatuation to a degree, a small degree, but it did not diminish the nature of her mission. A small blush spread over her cheeks as he gave her than grin and for a moment she looked to the side a bit shyly.

"Thank you." His compliment brought her gaze back to him and her genuine smile widened. "You look... better than you did yesterday?" It was all she could offer him, but, it was something.

"I'm glad to see you up and moving around now." She seemed impressed, "But I would not expect a warrior like yourself would allow himself to be kept down for long. Do you have any plans for the day? It is quite a lovely day and I was thinking perhaps we could take a walk and enjoy each other's company. Besides, I would quite like to see old man Chai's face when he sees you wander near his sheep." She laughed softly, making light of the townsfolk's reaction to the Hammerfell native.

"It's not snowing..." She added, hoping that would sweeten the deal. "Ah, of course if you have other things to attend to I understand."

Asking the man to go for a walk when he was clearly injured? She either lacked empathy or greatly overestimated his healing abilities.

 

[mystictiger]

She really was stunning. It took effort not to admire the curve of her breasts, the apparent firmness of her behind. She'd probably catch him eyeing her up. It was, amongst his people, a compliment to admire a thing of beauty - be that thing a horse, a sword, or another person.

He laughed heartily at her words. "Other things to attend to? Well, I had in my starring at the wall for an hour or two. And then at the ceiling. I was actually going to ask for advice on where... how one bathes here. I doubt the rivers are pleasant, even with good company"

It was clear that he was moving a little more easily, and he wanted to try and explain this before she had any other ideas about his nature.

"We Ra Gada, Redguard, are blessed with strong constitutions, and we heal quickly. A walk sounds excellent. I saw little and remember even less from my arrival here. But before you think me too strong - we do not do too well in the cold, unlike your kind."

He reached forward and pinched the fabric of her dress at her shoulders between thumb and forefinger. "I do not think that this would be warm enough for me." a chuckle. "But then I think you look far better in such a dress than I ever would. There are tailors or fur-traders here? I ask because my clothing has not survived well, and the kind of steel I favour in my hands are swords, not needle and thread."

He really didn't seem worried over-much about her personal space.

 

[nerdfuck]

His staring did not go unnoticed by Lorelle. It caused the blush in her face to heat and the smile to become less of a friendly one and into something more... sensual. He asked about a bath and she couldn't help but to giggle just ever so slightly as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle it. The thought of him trying to bathe in the cold river was too funny, she knew he was used to warm water and warm sands.

"You boil water on the fire, then add water from the lake." She advised him. It was funny how he was so well traveled, but knew so little now that he was out of his element. "You certainly do not wish to bathe in the river, it would be very... unpleasant for you."

"Oh, I've read much about your kind, in books when I can find them. I am surprised you came this far out, especially alone."

When he reached forward and touched her dress she felt her heart skip a beat, maybe two. Her head turned ever so slightly to the side so she could look at his large, skilled hand. She laughed softly at the thought of him wearing a dress, especially one of hers. She was notorious for... showing off the goods, so to speak.

"If you don't have proper clothes you shouldn't bathe or they will just be dirty." Duh. "There is no tailor I'm afraid, we're far too small for any business of the sort, but there is a merchant, I can take you there. You might be able to find something that fits, though you are far larger than any man in this area." And that was the truth.

She scrunched her nose at him and took a step back. "Come on, I want to show you something." She motioned for him to follow her and while she waited she continued speaking. "What brings you out this way to start? Where are you heading?" No one ever came to Dragon Bridge as a destination, they came as a pit stop to their final location..

 

[mystictiger]

He took one of the blankets from the bed and turned it into a makeshift shawl, wrapping himself up in it as best he could. It'd have to do for the time being. Fortunately, it meant that it hid her grin from her at her comment about size. She'd hopefully find out sooner rather than later the truth of that.

"Well, lead on, guide." he said turning and following her. His heavy walking boots looked odd in comparison to the much lighter clothing he was wearing. And of course he had his sword at his side. Which just made him look even stranger.

"As to what brings me up here? Well. A long story - one that I cannot easily tell because all good stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. This one seems somewhere in the middle. We are, as a people, not over-fond of those that rely on magic-users, and so we take slights and insults from their kind rather seriously. I am pursuing someone that... took something from us. A thief, you might say. Or a traitor. Perhaps something combined. Honour demands certain actions, certain responses. In this case, the answer is simple - a life for a life. This is all vague I realise, but I do not think I can explain it to myself yet, let alone to someone else."

And the truth was that he'd followed the Betrayer this far, and would keep following. Hints here, traces there. The mageling was running out of places to run to. Perhaps the pursuit would have been shorter had they send someone like Donde or Shelt'ka - people with more of a nose for questions and evidence. He, however, was a warrior. He followed doggedly like a blood hound. That made him smile. Yes, a dog of war.

"So I have come North through Skyrim, heading for Whiterun. But there was a blizzard a few days ago further south, and I lost my bearings. And then stumbled into a small group of brigands or rebels or somesuch. They didn't really give me a chance to speak before things turned hostile. And then? Well, I followed the road."

 

[nerdfuck]

When he began to follow her and beckoned her to lead the way Lorelle walked on, ignoring the looks of her co-workers as they walked through the main tavern area and out of the doors. She did not want anyone in his business so she made the transition from inside to outside as quickly as possible. As promised the snow had stopped and the sun was actually out. Though it was still chilly it might serve as a somewhat more tolerable climate for the redguard. The small town of Dragon Bridge was awake with what little life lived in it. In the distance someone farmed, laughing could be heard vaguely over the roar of the distant river. Beside the door where they stood a medium-sized dog stood at the sight of them, tail wagging as he begged for some pets. She glanced at the dog from the corner of her eyes before moving on, following a broken down walkway.

"Oh.... that sounds horrible." She noted as he detailed his great adventure. To have to completely uproot from his home, just to chase a thief... "So you were going to Whiterun? You are a long ways off..." She pursed her lips for a moment, lost in thought as their walk continued on. "Have you considered visiting Solitude? It is closer, and you could load up on gear before making your way to Whiterun, that is a ways..." It made sense to her. Solitude was too far away for her, but ot for a trained warrior like him.

"So... is it all magic users your people don't like or just this one in particular?" She tilted her head at the question. It was not the first time she heard of people not looking kindly on those that were versed in the ways of magic. Dragon Bridge was much like that as well. Magic, and anyone that could do it, was nothing but trouble. As they walked and spoke her expression was rather unreadable except for a vague notion of concern for his situation. If he was headed for Whiterun he was a long ways away indeed.

 

[mystictiger]

"A long way off? No, Lorelle. I am a long way from home. And I go wherever the obligation takes me. Besides, it may be that Leki or Tava have brought me here. Needless to say, we have no god of blizzards!"

He followed her down the walk-way; it was pleasant to actually be out and about. If she could manage this, and she was practically falling out of her dress, then he'd cope with the cold. Deep breath.

"As to magic? Well. This will require a little explanation. There is a right way to do something; in line with teaching and tradition - this is as true of eating breakfast as to living one's life. Dignity and independence are virtues for us, so anything that detracts from ... rightness or independence is frowned upon. Illusion is lies. Necromancy is blasphemy." a pause. "But battlemages? Well. Having seen some in action, I am convinced that one should judge the mage on the magic they use, not on the mere fact that they use magic. I take it that magic is more common amongst your kind? Is it tolerated?"

He stopped to look at her again, this time meeting her eyes.

"What is Solitude? I know little of this place, never actually having expected to come this far. As you can probably tell by my gear."

 

[nerdfuck]

"Magic is a tricky subject around here.." She began to explain. "Some love it, most detest it. Especially since the College of Winterhold fell out. Majority of people feel negatively towards it..." Her voice trailed off ever so slightly and she raised a hand to rub her elbow as they walked. "One does not often find magic users in these parts, but in the big cities they are much more prevalent."

When he stopped Lorelle did as well, her eyes meeting his fierce gaze. Not that he was angry at her or anything, it seemed his eyes were just naturally intense. It was lovely and refreshing in a way, as well as scary. Most people around here reflected only death in their eyes, death of spirit.

She had to resist laughter when he asked what Solitude was. He really hadn't been here long. "Solitude is only one of the largest cities in Skyrim." Her tone was more teasing than anything. "They would have whatever you might need for your travels, and the inn would certainly be much nicer. It is where the royal palace is located." She hoped that last bit of information might explain just how nice that place was. "Of course I've only heard stories, I have never been there myself."

She lifted her hand to present one of the little houses to the side of them. The houses in Dragon Bridge were small and practically falling apart, but they were houses. "This is what I wanted to show you. It's mine. I just wanted to tell you, if you ever drifted through again you are welcome to stay, whether I am here or not. You can let yourself in. It isn't much, but it would be free." She gave him a gentle, genuine smile. She had not known him long but she liked him and she would help him however she could. "That goes for you and any of your allies that might need a place to reside. Just make sure they aren't dangerous before sending them to me."

 

[mystictiger]

He looked from her to the house and then back again. "Are there no carpenters in your village?"

And then he realised how offensive that must have sounded. But then they built in elegant, ornate curving stone back home. Not shacks like this one.

"What I mean is that surely a beautiful woman such as yourself should have people falling over themselves in an effort to help you." they certainly would have back home. Well, maybe not help, and perhaps more take-advantage-of, but Stross M'Kai was a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

"Solitude does indeed sound like somewhere useful to go for supplies, and your offer is most kind. I regret that I cannot offer the same in return - until I return from this hunt, I have nothing but the clothes I wear and the sword I carry. But then I think you would not like Hammerfell. You smile and chuckle when you see me react to the cold - I think you would have a worse time in the heat. At least with the cold, I can keep adding layers. With the heat, there's only so naked one can get"

He turned on the spot, taking in the full extent of Dragon Bridge, before turning back to her.

"Why do you remain here?"

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle had to resist the urge to laugh when he asked about carpenters. So much so that she raised a hand to cover her mouth, hiding her smile. She knew he meant nothing by it and that it was a genuine question, but it was funny. When he backtracked his comment she moved her hand and let out a small laugh. "I understand. I could pay to have someone fix it up, but I do not make a lot of money at the tavern. We only get visitors so often and the regulars can only tip so much. This town is mostly old folk and beggars.. not many people who would want to help are in a position to do so." She explained to him, taking no offence from his question.

"Nords are resistant to the cold." She reminded him gently when he acknowledged that she did not have the trouble with cold that he did. "The heat would be difficult," she admitted, "but I would think seeing Hammerfell would be the trip of a lifetime." It was a nice thought anyway. She smiled a vague, warm smile at the thought, looking not at him but past him.

When he asked why she stayed that look dropped from her face and became more of a neutral frown. She looked at her house and then at him again, taking a deep breath. "I am..." she seemed to struggle to find the words before giving a small laugh. "It is hard to say... It is... dangerous..."

Yeah, dangerous.

A moment of uncomfortable silence washed over them before she smiled at him. "Would you like to go to the merchant? Or if you'd like a cup of tea we can sit." She motioned to the house. "It's up to you, I'm free all day."

 

[mystictiger]

"I would indeed like to go the merchant. I assume that they'll sell me some timber, a hammer, and nails. Paint too."

He rolled his sleeves up, and then immediately regretted it. His arms were well-developed, and the tiny hairs on them were already standing up in response to the cool breeze.

"I was a sailor before I devoted my life to the sword. I am reasonable sure I can make a few structural improvements."

She had taken his thoughtless comment far more graciously than a Redguard would had an outlander insulted their home. He almost literally kicked himself with regret.

"And then we can drink tea whilst I make your house shipshape. Not literally shipshape, mind you. Assuming you don't object? I have nothing better to do, and the idea of some light exercise is appealing. Light exercise I can do near a fire and in good company in particular!"

Her choice of words were curious - dangerous. But then he suspected he had rather different ideas of what danger amounted to than a local tavern-wench. And her refusal to learn swordplay was likewise odd. Perhaps a religious thing? He had no clue what Nords worshiped. He made a note to ask again; both about her reticence, and her faith.

 

[nerdfuck]

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise when he mentioned doing some work on her home. Her red-painted lips quickly became a soft smile and she nodded her head. "I find that agreeable Kellen." She told him gently. In all honesty, she was more excited about having company in her home than the repairs he planned to do. She had been by herself for too long now, it was starting to wear on her. "The merchant is just down this way." It was almost a joke. Dragon Bridge was a straight line, almost everything was 'just down this way'.

Lorelle began leading him on past her small house. True to her word the merchant was literally just a few feet down from her. A slightly nicer, slightly larger looking house with an open sign out front. If he did not have Lorelle by his side he likely never would have found the place. On the front porch were two cats, one rolling on its back and the other moving towards the visitors. Lorelle grinned at them like a child and sent him into the merchant to get his things. When he returned outside it was to find Lorelle sitting on the porch, petting both of the cats cheerily. She was a relatively happy person and could find joy in small things, a trait many people lost in life.

When he re-emerged Lorelle stood. "Let's go home, I'll put the tea on." Thankfully the walk back home was a short one, literally a very short walk as the merchant was just down the way. She led him to the front porch and opened the door, it wasn't even locked. "Uhm. Well make yourself at home." Although she knew it was far different than any home he knew.The cottage was actually quite old and musty, a bit dark in all honesty. There were no candles for light, she relied on all the open windows for that. The furnishings were worn and old. As they stepped into the middle of the small house Kellen found himself looking at a rather large bookshelf with a number of books placed on them. Lorelle was obviously quite a busy reader, but the topics she was interested in varied. It was worth noting that on a lower shelf (where Lorelle could easily reach it), she owned the complete series of the Lusty Argonian Maid.

"It belonged to my mother and father." She explained, referring to the house. "I haven't changed it much, but I tried to spruce it up some with plants." And that she did. Every surface it seemed had some sort of potted plant or flower. She moved to the cooking pot and began working on setting a fire. Behind her was an open windows to which several native birds sat, chirping away. "Sometimes the birds come in the house but I don't mind." That last part was more to herself.

"I'm sure it is nothing like what you're used to, but it's home."

 

[mystictiger]

"We are from very different cultures, it is true. The place I grew up in..."

He draped the blanket over one of the chairs and started to stretch a little. It was exercise, so one had to warm up.

"... had a beach-front view, fringed by palm trees. I would fall asleep and wake listening to the sound of the sea. Have you ever seen the sea? I think that it would be strange to have never seen the changeable majesty of open waters. But I probably assume too much. How far have you traveled from here? Is there much to see around these parts?"

He started with the structural members, making sure the beams were sound. Where they weren't he reinforced them to the best of his ability. It was heavy, hot work, and he soon took his shirt off as he continued to work and talk. Soon he started to glisten in the dim light.

"I assume that your parents have passed on? I would think that they look back at you from the Far Shores with some measure of pride. It cannot be easy to live in a place such as this, alone. The people seem ... closed and unfriendly. Not that some of my kin wouldn't have the same attitude. The more cosmopolitan of us - those that are not so tightly wedded to the old ways, can appreciate new ways, new thoughts, new people."

The work was tough but there was enough for him to keep busy. The furniture next - all reinforced, repaired, and cleaned up. A chuckle as he thought about what actually meant, and then continued cheerfully...

"Travel the world. Meet interesting people, and then kill them if the coin's right. But that's the life that calls to some. We tend not to do much in the way of farming."

And then he finally moved on to the bookshelf, and burst out laughing.

"I had not expected this to have made it so far north. Lifts-her-tail Crantius? I didn't think you were the type."

 

[nerdfuck]

Lorelle tried to look busy with the tea when he removed his blanket to begin working on the house. In all honesty her eyes were glued to him. He was truly a spectacle, a perfect example of the humbled warrior. It made her wonder what his life was actually like back home. How important was he? Was he popular? Surely he had women fawning over him and his physique. Or perhaps it was quite normal where he was from and he somehow managed to slip through the cracks unnoticed. That was hard to believe though.

She listened to him speak fondly of home, it was all so very interesting, where he was from. "No, I have never seen the sea..." She admitted as she added some herbs to the water which had just started to boil. The fire was getting hot and making her sweat ever so slightly so she opted to have a seat at the table which was in front of the bookshelf. Her house was not very large at all. In fact, there was only one double bed within it. "There is not much to see, no. I haven't gone far." She was quite a shut-in by his standards she was sure.

When he asked about her parents she nodded but gave him no verbal response. Her eyes slid off of him, detaching from the conversation as he went on to note that they must be looking at her with pride. She somehow doubted that. It was a conversation she opted out of.

Suddenly he broke out in laughter and she looked up in surprise, the birds on her window flying away in a scuffle having been startled. When he addressed her books her face flushed deeply. "Well I am a woman." She noted to him, seemingly a bit defensive. "A young woman who should be married but is instead living alone in the middle of nowhere. You would get lonely as well.... besides, I relate to the maid in the story.." The flush on her face was still bright and hot. "But I don't suppose you ever get lonely, you are so well traveled. I would not expect you to know what that's like."

 

[mystictiger]

He stopped as he looked at her. There was an odd mixture of emotions on his face - humour, compassion, and probably desire too.

"Lonely? I am frequently lonely. I spend days walking through distant lands, where people treat me like I'm a criminal for the colour of my skin and the tone of my voice. Where they speak strange languages that sound like someone is gargling rocks. Where I'm seen as a threat rather than a person. So yes, I can understand the feel of lonely. That you might long for the feeling of a warm body next to you as you sleep. A tender word, a fond look. A kiss. But I cannot understand why a young woman with your obvious charms is reading books like this, rather than finding a man worthy of you. Or a woman if your tastes run that way - I do not judge. You strike me as a... prisoner here. What secret shame binds you here? What past sin?"

He stood over her, trying not to be intimidating as he joined her at the small table.