“I'll go,” Shevawna said. Coin and an adventure and the chance to stitch up some cheating bastard who deserved it? She was in. “Who am I delivering this to?”
Kodlak took a deep breath, almost as if he felt a little guilty to admit it, and he definitely was lowering his voice.
“Matriarch Keirine of Hag's End,” he said quietly. It took a moment for Shevawna to process what she'd just heard. Matriarch Keirine. Of Hag's End. First Matriarch of the Forsworn, de facto spiritual leader of all true Reachfolk and along with Kaie Brenyeen, keeping the movement going in Madanach's absence. And Kodlak Whitemane wanted to send her a letter.
No wonder he'd had trouble finding a courier.
“Are you serious,” Shevawna whispered. “You're a friend of Matriarch Keirine?”
“Aye,” Kodlak said, nodding. “Don't look so surprised, lass. Did you never wonder why your camps got warning of Companion raids? Why your First Matriarch would occasionally intervene and claim stolen trinkets off you for her own use? I don't always agree with your methods or hers, but the work she's doing is of more value than a few petty mercenary jobs. So we've stayed our blades, and in return she's aided us in the past. We buy an awful lot of alchemical supplies from her – Forsworn medicine's some of the best anywhere. We've also been known to use her enchanting services – she's faster and better at it than that mage in Winterhold. Not that the others know this, of course, just as most of you probably don't know she's helping me. Now, are you willing to both help me, and help Keirine and I keep your people safe?”
Shevawna nodded, amazed beyond words. A secret alliance between the Forsworns' most powerful witch and the Harbinger of famed Nord mercenary order the Companions. No one could have predicted that, but Shevawna found she could live with it. If Matriarch Keirine thought it was a good idea then who was she to argue?
“Of course,” Shevawna said, finally feeling her sense of purpose return. “When do I leave?”
“Soon,” Kodlak promised, seeming to approve of her spirit. “In the mean time, you can stay here as one of us. I only have one request – don't wear your Forsworn furs in the city. It'd likely cause a misunderstanding. I'd hate for any misunderstandings, wouldn't you say, lass?”
Shevawna got his meaning and promised to wear her leather armour when outside Jorrvaskr.
“I wouldn't kill anyone here,” Shevawna also promised. “We only kill outsiders in our lands and enemies. You're not in our lands, I'm in yours. So I won't kill any of you.”
“I'm relieved to hear it,” Kodlak laughed. “Come on, get dressed and get up if you can. Time for you to meet the others.”
~~~~~~~~~
First stop was one of the other bedrooms, home to four warriors sitting around. One old man with receding grey hair, wearing the same armour as Kodlak. The dark-haired warrior who'd carved that bandit into pieces, not bad-looking, not as big and beefy as most Nords which was a refreshing change, in fact he'd be rather attractive... if it weren't for the attitude. Another man who looked just like him but burlier. And a very pretty red-haired woman in sensible armour that didn't hold the sweat against your body and actually let your skin breathe. Well at least someone in this heathen place knew how to dress properly.
Their names turned out to be Skjor, Vilkas, Farkas and Aela, and both Skjor and Vilkas looked very distrustful. Farkas didn't seem to care though and Aela was actually looking appreciative.
“So that's the new blood,” Skjor said, frowning. “She doesn't look like much, Kodlak. Do you know what you're doing?”
“Hey!” Shevawna snapped. “I'm a warrior of the Reach! I've killed plenty like you, Nord.”
“I doubt that,” Skjor snorted. “So you are a Forsworn. Kodlak, are you really sure about this?”
“Yes,” said Kodlak firmly. “I need her help with something, she's agreed to give it and in return I've offered her Jorrvaskr's hospitality. So long as she doesn't abuse it, I've said she's welcome here.”
“But Master, the Forsworn slaughter anyone who crosses them!” Vilkas protested and that drew a growl from Kodlak.
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.6
Kodlak took a deep breath, almost as if he felt a little guilty to admit it, and he definitely was lowering his voice.
“Matriarch Keirine of Hag's End,” he said quietly. It took a moment for Shevawna to process what she'd just heard. Matriarch Keirine. Of Hag's End. First Matriarch of the Forsworn, de facto spiritual leader of all true Reachfolk and along with Kaie Brenyeen, keeping the movement going in Madanach's absence. And Kodlak Whitemane wanted to send her a letter.
No wonder he'd had trouble finding a courier.
“Are you serious,” Shevawna whispered. “You're a friend of Matriarch Keirine?”
“Aye,” Kodlak said, nodding. “Don't look so surprised, lass. Did you never wonder why your camps got warning of Companion raids? Why your First Matriarch would occasionally intervene and claim stolen trinkets off you for her own use? I don't always agree with your methods or hers, but the work she's doing is of more value than a few petty mercenary jobs. So we've stayed our blades, and in return she's aided us in the past. We buy an awful lot of alchemical supplies from her – Forsworn medicine's some of the best anywhere. We've also been known to use her enchanting services – she's faster and better at it than that mage in Winterhold. Not that the others know this, of course, just as most of you probably don't know she's helping me. Now, are you willing to both help me, and help Keirine and I keep your people safe?”
Shevawna nodded, amazed beyond words. A secret alliance between the Forsworns' most powerful witch and the Harbinger of famed Nord mercenary order the Companions. No one could have predicted that, but Shevawna found she could live with it. If Matriarch Keirine thought it was a good idea then who was she to argue?
“Of course,” Shevawna said, finally feeling her sense of purpose return. “When do I leave?”
“Soon,” Kodlak promised, seeming to approve of her spirit. “In the mean time, you can stay here as one of us. I only have one request – don't wear your Forsworn furs in the city. It'd likely cause a misunderstanding. I'd hate for any misunderstandings, wouldn't you say, lass?”
Shevawna got his meaning and promised to wear her leather armour when outside Jorrvaskr.
“I wouldn't kill anyone here,” Shevawna also promised. “We only kill outsiders in our lands and enemies. You're not in our lands, I'm in yours. So I won't kill any of you.”
“I'm relieved to hear it,” Kodlak laughed. “Come on, get dressed and get up if you can. Time for you to meet the others.”
~~~~~~~~~
First stop was one of the other bedrooms, home to four warriors sitting around. One old man with receding grey hair, wearing the same armour as Kodlak. The dark-haired warrior who'd carved that bandit into pieces, not bad-looking, not as big and beefy as most Nords which was a refreshing change, in fact he'd be rather attractive... if it weren't for the attitude. Another man who looked just like him but burlier. And a very pretty red-haired woman in sensible armour that didn't hold the sweat against your body and actually let your skin breathe. Well at least someone in this heathen place knew how to dress properly.
Their names turned out to be Skjor, Vilkas, Farkas and Aela, and both Skjor and Vilkas looked very distrustful. Farkas didn't seem to care though and Aela was actually looking appreciative.
“So that's the new blood,” Skjor said, frowning. “She doesn't look like much, Kodlak. Do you know what you're doing?”
“Hey!” Shevawna snapped. “I'm a warrior of the Reach! I've killed plenty like you, Nord.”
“I doubt that,” Skjor snorted. “So you are a Forsworn. Kodlak, are you really sure about this?”
“Yes,” said Kodlak firmly. “I need her help with something, she's agreed to give it and in return I've offered her Jorrvaskr's hospitality. So long as she doesn't abuse it, I've said she's welcome here.”
“But Master, the Forsworn slaughter anyone who crosses them!” Vilkas protested and that drew a growl from Kodlak.