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Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
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Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.6
Date: 2014-04-13 11:46 am (UTC)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 2.7
Date: 2014-04-13 11:47 am (UTC)Vilkas sighed and eventually grunted assent, still glaring at Shevawna.
“Fine,” he growled. “But I still think you're making a mistake.” Getting up, he stalked out, brooding. Kodlak just shrugged and turned to the others.
“What about you, Skjor? Aela?” He seemed to ignore Farkas completely, which struck Shevawna as a bit mean. Skjor looked her over and to her surprise, nodded.
“If you vouch for her, sure. Those Forsworn are tough bastards to a man – or woman. As long as she doesn't forget where she is and try to kill any of us, I don't care what she does anywhere else.”
As if she could forget. But Skjor actually seemed to approve of her in some way. It was very strange but Shevawna could live with it.
Then Aela looked at her and if Skjor had seemed to maybe approve, Aela actually was smiling a little.
“I think so. We don't really do politics here, Shevawna. Well, some of us have views, as I'm sure you'll find out, but we don't get involved. We just go where the coin is. I tend to specialise in dealing with beasts anyway. I think you and I will work together rather well.”
“I – thank you,” Shevawna gasped, really not having expected that response. She could get to like this Aela. Nord she might be, but she seemed friendly and by Sithis, she was pretty. Really pretty and Shevawna realised she might just have a thing for red hair, an unusual sight on a Forsworn camp with its various shades of black, brown, silver and blonde.
“Good,” Kodlak breathed, relieved. “Glad that's settled. Well, I have a letter to write so I'll let you show Shevawna where the quarters are... yes?”
“He hasn't said anything,” Shevawna said, pointing at Farkas. “Doesn't he talk?”
“Ah,” Kodlak coughed. “Well, he does, yes, but...”
“It's all right,” Farkas said gruffly. “I'm not normally one for talking. Kodlak says you're honourable so that's fine by me. I don't need to know anything else.”
That was... rather sweet. Naive, hopelessly naïve... but sweet. Shevawna honestly hadn't ever thought she'd be thinking of a big, gruff Nord warrior as sweet. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him. She had a feeling he'd probably get into trouble on his own. Not that he couldn't handle trouble, but she wouldn't want him to get taken advantage of.
Not her type sexually, of course – he was a bit too, well, big. But she had a feeling she could be friends with this one. If he wasn't tearing a Forsworn camp apart, that is.
“That's all right then,” Shevawna said, nodding. “So, er, there are living quarters, you said?”
“I'll give her the tour,” Aela said without further ado, and the little group broke up, Kodlak heading back to his room, Skjor heading upstairs and Farkas going into one of the other rooms off the main corridor.
“So, sister-to-be,” Aela said with a smile that contained only a hint of predatoriness and yet still made Shevawna shiver. “Let me show you around.”
Oh you can show me anywhere you like. Shevawna bit her lip and followed Aela out. This could only lead to trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
First was the sleeping room. An entire room for sleeping in. With beds everywhere. While Shevawna was used to not having a lot of privacy, the idea of everyone sleeping without the veneer of a tent flap in between you and the rest of the camp was a bit... unsettling.
The mess was also less than pleasing, with things everywhere and a very loose attitude to personal possessions, it looked like. Forsworn held most things on a camp in common, but even so you'd have some things of your own and woe betide anyone who took another Forsworn's stuff without asking.
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.8
Date: 2014-04-13 11:49 am (UTC)There was Tilma, an old lady who cleaned up after everyone and cooked, which was a little mean considering she was one of the oldest there. Back home, the elders (and by Forsworn standards, thirty was getting on a bit and forty was practically ancient) rarely did anything they couldn't persuade a younger member of the camp to do for them.
There was Ria, from some place called Cyrodiil, one of the big countries to the south, but who'd grown up on tales of adventure and Ysgramor from her Nord stepfather and come north to find out more. Enthusiastic, clearly up for a good bloodletting, and Not A Nord. Shevawna decided she was all right.
Then Torvar, clearly either not all there or off his face on something, probably the latter. Still, he seemed all right, even if he did keep squinting at her and musing he was sure he'd killed someone who looked like her a while back.
Njada turned out to be Definitely A Nord, who looked her over in disgust, said “they let you in?? Must be desperate,” and walked off.
“Sorry about her,” Aela said sheepishly. “She's always like that with newcomers. Takes a while to warm up to people.”
Shevawna had a feeling she'd have died and been reborn three times before Njada ever warmed up to her.
Then Athis who was not only Not A Nord but an elf. A real one! An actual elf!
“You're an elf!” Shevawna squealed. “With the ears! And the face, oh my god, pointy face and your eyes, my goodness, your eyes!”
“Yes, I'm an elf,” Athis sighed wearily. “Dunmer if you want to be specific. With a face, eyes and ears, most of us have them. And if you don't pull yourself together, yours may end up getting rearranged. Sera.”
Shevawna barely heard the threat of violence in amongst the general haze of real elf! She'd hardly met any before, other than Liriel, and after escaping a dragon together, Liriel was less like an elf by the end of it and more like a real person. Still, Shevawna recollected where she was and pulled herself together. Just because slanted eyes, thin faces and pointed ears were considered signs of beauty among the Reachfolk, meaning elves qualified by default as stunning, didn't mean she should harass the poor man.
“I'm very sorry, sirrah Athis,” she said quietly. “I don't see many elves back home, you see.”
Athis rolled his eyes. “Could tell that. Still, better than the usual reaction I get from humans.”
Upstairs, and the main hall seemed to be tables around a central fire, another new one on Shevawna – tables that was, the concept of a fire was not lost on her. Then a room off to one side that was the private quarters of one Vignar Grey-Mane, seen muttering darkly about the Aldmeri Dominion, and his servant Brill.
“Stormcloak supporters?” Shevawna asked, one hand going to her axe.
“Aye, that they are,” Aela admitted. “But as long as you don't ask Vignar about it, you'll be all right. He's an old man, he retired his blade some time ago.”
Shevawna made a mental note to keep her distance. Retired he might be but he didn't look incapable.
Then the training yard with straw dummies and targets – Shevawna would have to keep them in mind for when she wanted practice against enemies who let you hit them and didn't fight back. Fortunately, seeing Ria and Vilkas in a training session gave her a bit of hope she might get some practice in against a live opponent. And if she drew blood in the process, that was all too the good. Especially if it came from Vilkas, the stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Just because he had cheekbones and smouldering eyes didn't mean a good thrashing wouldn't do him good.
Shevawna definitely didn't think much of Nords with smouldering eyes, even if he had apparently carried her back here from Riverwood.
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-13 11:54 am (UTC)Shevawna felt dizzy at the very thought.
“Where did it come from?” Shevawna whispered, staring up at it.
“No one knows,” Aela answered, leading her up the stairs. “Some say the gods built it. Others the dragons. Some say it was always here since the world began. All we know is it was here when the first Companions came by, looking for somewhere to settle. They found the Skyforge and used the remaining timbers of their ship to build Jorrvaskr, and the city grew up around them. It's always been worked by a member of Clan Grey-Mane. And right now that would be Eorlund. Hey, Eorlund! Is my shield ready yet?”
Eorlund turned out to be a white-haired Nord who must be well over forty. Old as a Hag, maybe. Shevawna wasn't terribly well-versed in what happened as someone got old. She'd not seen it happen very often.
“It's here, Aela. I was going to bring it to you earlier but I've been kept busy enough up here, and with Fralia how she is...”
“I know,” Aela said softly, taking the shield off him. “Thank you. How is she doing?”
Eorlund shrugged, clearly not a man at ease with words, not ones that weren't to do with smithcraft anyway.
“She has good and bad days. Sometimes she's almost her old self, but others...” He shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. He noticed her and nodded in her direction, seeming to become a little cooler. “Who's this and why's she walking around half-naked and covered in feathers?”
Before Shevawna could protest that these were the traditional clothes of her people, Aela stopped her.
“This is Shevawna. She's just joined us. She's from an obscure tribe some distance away and they all dress like that. Shevawna, this is Eorlund Grey-Mane. You need any smithing doing, he's your man.”
“I can do my own smithing,” Shevawna said proudly, and then she recalled that if she upset him he'd probably ban her from coming within ten feet of the forge and then she'd never get to listen to it sing while she worked it. “But I'm probably not as good as you, and I'm always willing to learn!” she added brightly. “It's a really pretty forge, let me know if you need an assistant!”
Eorlund just grunted but something in his attitude seemed pleased or at least less hostile.
“About time Kodlak found someone who knows her way round a forge,” Eorlund growled. “All right, you want to help or do your own work, you can as long as you don't make a mess or get underfoot.”
“Yes! Thank you!” Shevawna cried, some part of her conveniently overlooking the fact she was a Forsworn girl in the middle of the Nord heartland. But the Skyforge wasn't Nordic. It had a magic as old as time, older than Nords, from a time before this land was Skyrim. She'd do whatever it took to get close to it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes on the Rhanic:
Admorin - Nord man
Brenyeen - Princess
Mor Gwadoreen - Dark Brotherhood
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-14 09:02 am (UTC)Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-18 11:04 am (UTC)Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-14 09:15 am (UTC)Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-17 08:35 am (UTC)Also, I hope the pairing is with Aela, it's your choice of course, so it'sup to you to see where your amazing talent will take you, but i feel as if a huntress will have more to do with a forsworn woman. Dont get me wrong though, Vilkas would still be good, either one is hot.
Re: Blood (Magic)'s Honour 2.9
Date: 2014-04-18 11:06 am (UTC)