Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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“Her” F!DB/Marcurio 6/?

[(Anonymous)]

He’d lost it then.

“Seriously?!”

She just stood there sheepishly, the dying flicker of torchbug lighting up her cheeks. Of course she’d pick up one of the weirder hobbies to be had in Tamriel… Thankfully, she’d never had the courage to eat a giant’s toe, no matter what Arcadia said. The girl had seemed content to simply follow recipes that included their use, but there were a few incidents where she very nearly did. Roasted toes on sticks did not make for good eating, not that he would know, but it was worth forgoing supper just once to watch her try. Hearing her whimper as she held them over the fire, and then grimacing as she tried to find the will to actually eat them, had made for a mildly entertaining evening.

Marcurio whirled around. He could have sworn she threw something at him. When he felt a second, more insistent bump, he looked down and swore. The Dragonborn had set rabbits on his sorry hide. This was going to end badly. The little things were fast, and for all their cuteness, had rather sharp teeth. Hopefully she hadn’t sent too many after him. Which of course meant the that odds were good that she had…

“Her” F!DB/Marcurio 7/?

[(Anonymous)]

That was another thing he hated. Damned elves and their… nature thing. Whatever it was. All he knew was that she used her native talents to make his life difficult. Not always intentionally, but that was usually how it went.

Like that time she’d nearly gotten them killed fetching a mammoth tusk for Ysolda. The aspiring merchant girl had been above getting the thing herself, apparently. Or didn’t have the money to buy one. Or too sensible to try removing one from the animal. Whatever the real reason, his employer had grabbed the Nord woman’s hands and eagerly promised to bring her one. He’d assumed that she would have checked the local shops, but when she hadn’t, he’d assumed that the Dragonborn had given up or forgotten the enterprise. It wasn’t till they came in sight of a giant’s camp that he realized that his employer meant to bring her friend a fresh one.

He had not been planning on getting caught between angry giant and a rampaging mammoth in the rain.

The giant had taken offense to strangers marching up to his animal, and responded by swinging his club at them. At that point, his employer had simply done her elf thing, and bade the mammoth attack the giant. Up till then, he’d assumed that stories of how the Bosmer could control animals were simply stories. But the reality of it was worse: it gave tiny little Dragonborns bad ideas.

“Her” F!DB/Marcurio 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

And what had they gotten in return for surviving that mess?

Ysolda had blathered on about shady Khajiit caravans and shady business deals. On the upside, it seemed to improve his employer’s business sense. But not by enough to stop making crazy deals with every other stranger she met. He’d lost track of the number of times they’d delved into draugr infested tombs and necromancer dens because someone misplaced some random bit of jewelry or other. It meant that he had stories to rival that of the Companions, but that wasn’t something he was all that pleased about. Bragging rights are nice, but if you’re constantly gambling your ability to brag, it might not be worth the effort. He liked living too much to enjoy the lifestyle, and he often cursed becoming a mercenary.

But he couldn’t quite convince himself that he regretted selling his services to her.

“Her” F!DB/Marcurio 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

For all her nuttiness, she was still the kindest soul he’d ever met. And it was mostly because of that nature, that she was constantly in trouble. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d wandered into bandit camps looking to mediate. A hopelessly naive, though sweet notion that people were ultimately good in the end. He’d also forgotten how often she had tried enchanting things for people. He was pretty sure that miners did not need shovels with fire enchantments on them. But in a way, her twisted logic made an odd sort of sense: most owners did not want their men equipped with weapons down there, so why not weaponize the only tools they had? It didn’t change the fact that most miners had no combat training, but she had tried…

Marcurio sighed as he toasted the bunny horde with his magic. There was nothing simple about her, except for how simple her heart was. He could almost admire her for somehow keeping her innocence for so long, especially considering how hard life could be in Skyrim. How hard her life had to have been, despite how unnaturally lucky she was at times. Clearly, some Aedra or Deadra wanted her to live long enough to do her Dragonborn duty. He’d have called such unnatural fortune unfair if he wasn’t aware of the sort of trouble their blessings brought.

When the last of the rabbit onslaught had been roasted, Marcurio looked up and cursed: his employer was nowhere in sight. That could only mean one thing. It was her turn to hunt.

“Her” F!DB/Marcurio 10/?

[(Anonymous)]

Marcurio swore again. Her spellcraft had been his fault. His second mistake, after convincing her to hire him. He’d sold her on the utility of magic by demonstrating his limited abilities in Restoration. But an ill-fated visit to the College of Winterhold had introduced her to the school of Illusion. He would have been perfectly happy with her learning “Clairvoyance” if it meant that they’d get lost less frequently. But someone had to go and show her how to cast “Invisibility”. That particular demonstration had ended her forays into Restoration, and had only added fuel to the school’s political fire. And that was before the damned Thalmor had to go and blow things up on campus… literally.

He scanned his surroundings carefully, hoping to catch sight of footprints in the grass. Maybe even the tell-tale scrape of light armour on rock. Nothing. He had to catch her soon, because he couldn’t count on the spell wearing off before she jumped him.

No such luck. Her spell broke as she pounced from not two feet in front of him. The Dragonborn slammed into his chest, driving the air from his lungs, and they tumbled over into the grass. Not a moment later, he was shouting again, as she resumed her onslaught on his ribs.