"Come on, Arkan! You have to stop doing this to yourself," the nord spoke with a calming tone, yet you could hear how he was saddened at the same time. "Drinking yourself to death won't accomplish anything."
"I don't care. Now get out of my shight, or get yourshelf a drink and join me," Arkan replied, drunk as if he'd been drinking all day.
"You know I don't drink anymore. Now come with me and we'll get you some food," the nord urged. At which point he received a stare from the waitress, surprised to hear those words come out of a fellow nord's mouth.
"I'd rather shtay here thank you very mush!" he said in a dismissing tone.
The nord gave up a sigh, and decided to leave his friend alone. He felt very sad as he left the inn. Sad, and pissed off at the same time. Arkan had every reason in the world to be drunk off his ass, but he was eventually going to hurt himself. As the nord approached his house, the smell of his wife's homemade soup caught his attention. The sun had just begun to set when he stepped into his house.
"How is Arkan holding up, Ulf?" his wife asked, also with noticeable sadness in her voice.
"Not good at all, and it's getting worse," Ulf replied. His wife let out a sigh, clearly she had been hoping for improvement.
"Yngvar is back from Solitude, he came by. Said he'd be at the town square and that he wanted to meet you as soon as possible, you'd better hurry if you don't want your soup to get cold," she waved him goodbye as he muttered curses over the fact that he had to go out in the cold again.
He began to head towards the town square. He observed some locals heading into their houses after a day of work. A lot of different races were living in this quaint little town located in the Western Reach, so it wasn't at all unusual to see mixed couples of all races heading into their houses together. Ulf had now arrived at the almost empty town square and saw his brother, Yngvar, standing by the well in the center of it.
"Yngvar! You come back from Skyrim after a month and don't even stay for supper?" He gave his brother a welcoming hug. "The kids have been asking after you for ages!"
"I'm a busy man Ulf," Yngvar replied with a smile. "So, did anything happen while I was gone?"
Yngvar could see how Ulf stopped smiling, he realized something bad had happened.
"Arkan's wife and son... They were killed two weeks ago," said Ulf. "Arkan hasn't stopped drinking since, he's still at the inn."
Yngvar became tense. "Killed? By who?"
"We don't know, Arkan found his child in the hallway, and his wife in the kitchen. They had been run through with a blade."
Yngvar slammed his fist into the bucket dangling over the well, causing the chains to give out a loud rattle. This was not the home he had wanted to return to.
"Well I have news too, Ulf. And you're not going to like them."
"What is it?"
"The High King of Skyrim has been assassinated by Ulfric Stormcloak. Skyrim is on the brink of civil war."
It was now Ulf's turn to slam the bucket with his fist, this time it broke and splinters of wood fell down into the water below. The two brothers said nothing for a while. Yngvar was the first to interrupt the silence.
"I have to go back you know. Tomorrow I leave for Skyrim again. They need every able soldier they can find."
Ulf grunted but said he understood. Then they went separate ways. Ulf started heading home. Right now all he wanted was to have supper with his family. Both Arkan and Skyrim could wait until morning.
End of part 1.
So guys, is it utter shit or should I continue? I suck at writing so if you come across something that makes no sense please point it out.
Comments
And besides, to conti... more
Thank you Piper, I will try to improve in those areas.