Procrastination was a talent of mine. I sat at the inn in Windhelm longer than I wanted to. I wasn't comfortable being in the heart of Stormcloak's capital. Even though Ralof was a honourable ally and ultimately my only friend in Skyrim, I was still a citizen of the Empire and my heart beat for the Imperial City.
With that in mind my first step was to secure this boat with the East Empire Traders. Orthus had been to ready to offer what ever I needed to placate me into helping him solve his problems. I got the impression Orthus was under a lot of pressure. Secondly once I had finished helping Orthus I would return to Solitude to honour my debt to Elisif the Jarl of Solitude by investigating that cave.
Walking back down to the dock The Shield-Shatters office wasn't hard to find, only two doors up from Orthus's warehouse. On entering there was only one clerk in the space. I nodded a hello which was reciprocated.
Stifling a laugh I excused myself "Im sorry it just as I came in a Suvaris?" I paused pretending to chew other possible names over
"Was shouting and playing hell with a gang trying to unload some cargo off the ship outside. He was going on about some damn clerk. I'd hate to be that guy." Shaking my head with a chuckle.
My comments were loud and direct enough that as soon as I mentioned Suvaris the ears of the clerk pricked up. Without responding the clerk dashed out of the door muttering frantically under their breath. I took my opportunity and headed to the little table at the back of the warehouse.
The logbook wasn't difficult to find. I slipped it into my jacket and headed back outside. It was hard to conceal my laughter as I turned towards Orthus's door. The clerk stood scratching their head at the end of the empty dock.
The look of relief on Orthus's face when I slid the book from its hiding place was plainly obvious. He flicked through and quickly noticed a pattern. The Shield-Shatterers had been repeatedly paying one group The Blood Horkers. Orthus frowned
"I've no idea where these Horkers call port. I know one of the Captains a Stig Salt-Plank. He usually can be found up in Dawnstar. I'd head there first".
"What are these Blood Horkers all about?" I queried.
"A bunch of ruthless pirates and mercenaries. I'd be careful if you find him no telling how he might react to someone poking their nose in" Orthus reassured me.
"Dawnstar it is then wish me luck". I closed the exchange with a nervous smile.
What next? Ambushes, Dragons, Prison Breaks, Ancient prophecies and now Pirates. That old phrase "theirs plenty of fight in the old girl yet" seemed strangely applicable. I'd been through all that and come out the other side feeling more energized than I have for twenty years. I steeled myself once more as I clambered into the saddle and set off.
Dawnstar was only a few hours away over the snowy mountains to the North. My horse crunched down the icy road as we dropped down out of the snow. I noticed the smoke rising up from the isolated miners village. Dawnstar was nestled in a natural habour, either side of the inlet where two competing mines. A small dock which consisted of one board walk to tie a ship to had it's birth filled with a merchant ship.
No sailors were to be seen near the boat so I walked back up towards the Inn. I heard the chaos through the door. Opening it Stig and his crew were already pushing their weight around. Heckling the serving girl and repeatedly being spoken to by the Bar keep. Which did no good to settle the mead fuelled rabble.
Identifying Stig at the head of one of the tables I walked over and introduced myself. Instantly all the men rushed to their feet, hands on the pommel of their swords. Stig waved his hands to tell them all to return to their drinking.
"And what is it I can do for you?" Stig opened with
"I'm looking for work aboard a ship and heard tales of your crew and their success on the sea"
Loud cheers and fountains of mead rained down from the collision of tankards raised above heads.
"Indeed, who do I need to speak to sign up?" I said above the din.
Stig eyed me up and down, smiling
"We don't go giving it out to anyone who comes askin'. Especially to some white haired old goat who's seen to many cast offs."
Laughter ensued from all. Over the noise I shouted to get things back in order
"HOW ABOUT I PROVE MYSELF? I'll brawl you here and now. If I win you tell me where I can sign up. Surely your not afraid of an old goat like me?"
My comment brought silence to the entire inn. A mouse couldn't of snuck in unnoticed. Stig rose from his chair again waving for his men to stay in the seats.
"I hate to hurt a man in his elder years but if your so desperate to make a fool of yourself old man so be it".
In an instant chairs and tables flew back against the walls and the pirates encircled us both braying
"STIG.......STIG.....STIG...STIG..STIG..STIG.STIGSTIGSTIG"
The inebriated captain rushed forward swinging his brick of a fist, I brought my arms up and blocked then quickly countered with a right hook, left jab, left jab, right hook and left hook. Stig pushed me back shaking his head obviously rocked by my opening salvo. Again he came at me and dummied to my body. I took the hit and stepped with the punch keeping my balance I scored another flurry of left jabs finishing with a hard gut shot.
A belly full of mead didn't take to being jostled so much and Stig spat up some onto the floor. Losing his cool he lashed out frantically connecting with my face sending me to the ground. As he picked me up face to face I snapped my forehead onto the bridge of his nose feeling it crumble. Stig staggered backwards hands to his bloody nose, off balance and unguarded. I moved in to finish it. Throwing a left body shot Stig lowered his crimson fists. In the blink of an eye I unleashed a right, left, right haymaker combo. The last adding insult to injury as Stig was already falling backwards.
The man was hardy, as two of his men came forward to retrieve him out of his own pool of blood, he was already coming to. That combination won me the Fighters Guild Boxing Tournament 5 years in a row. I can tell you that meant he was hardy.
Downing a flaggon of mead using the remnants to clear his mouth of blood Stig rose and embraced me laughing. His crew erupting in cheer and mead. After the dust had settled or mead in this case Stig gave me the location of their base. A small outcrop of rock in the sea called Japhet's Folly.
I made a hasty retreat before the mead flowed too much in my direction. It was still only two in the afternoon. I felt like I'd been on an all night drinking session back in the Guild. The ride back to Windhelm wasn't an enjoyable one that's all I will record in this journal.
I may of fought like I was still in the Guild but by the Divine I could no longer drink like one.
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On another note, when was teh last time you wrote anything for the story corner?