Sigurd's Saga, part eight

• Posted by Jake Dassel September 7, 2012 - 793 views

  As we loaded up on supplies, Ralof had questions,"Who are you? I've never seen one with such skill and ferocity in battle who is also a healer of your caliber! I have only heard tales of men such as you in the oldest of tales." I chuckled, "Believe it or not, but I come strait from those tales, my friend." He looked dubiously at me for a minute. positive I was leading him on.  I reached into an inner pocket in my tunic, where my journal had survived for the past four thousand years, handing it to him, I watched with some amusement as his face went from sceptical, to confused, "I remember these runes, when I was but a boy, they were carved into the oldest walls in the family barrow.  The only people who could translate them died thousands..." He just stood there, mouth agape, struggling for words, "I then explained my story, the siege, waking up a draugr, being restored, and finally, my capture at darkwater.  "Normally, I would deem you ill in the head," He said slowly, "But considering that dragon that was supposed to be dead in your time, I actually believe you." He shook his head and went down the main road. "You coming?" he called back,"There's an inn with good drink and my cousin will have a place for us!" He didn't have to ask twice.  We made our way to Riverwood, where Ralof headed to the small bridge leading to the lumber mill, I followed, noticing an elf returning from a hunt, my eyes narrowed with anger, and as my hand went for my sword, Ralof muttered, "easy, he's one of the good ones, only wants to live a decent life, just the same as us."  "Old habits die hard..."  I growled under my breath.  Seeing Ralof embrace his family, I hung back, not wanting to intrude, I took a look around Riverwood, it is a beautiful hamlet, nestled in a wooded valley, with a clear river bursting with salmon,and the area surrounding the village teeming with game, as well as a mine up on a small bluff. The houses were made in traditional nordic fashion, I then made my way to the smithy to unload my spoils from Helgen.  "Ain't every day we get visitors here in Riverwood, what can I do for you?" A burly man stepped off his grindstone and introduced himself as Alvor, the town blacksmith. "In the market for some new armor?" I ask, opening my pack, "Military issue, Legion hardware." He looked at me cockeyed, "May I ask where the previous owners are? he said, motioning towards the notched armor. "They needed replacements, and were going to throw them out, but I offered to take them off their hands, I bit of work, and they'll be in pristine condition."  "Ah, that's better, Making sure you aren't a common thief, or murderer." he said, "To many folk come through here to offload the stuff they likely robbed from honest soldiers.  Damn Vagabonds...." As he reached for his coinpurse to pay me, I stopped him, "Instead of gold, why don't you lend me some steel and I will help you mend these? It would be my pleasure." "Another smith! here!" he exclaimed delightedly, "I hope you stay for a while!"  He motioned towards the forge, "just pull out those bars when you need 'em, there's leather on the table."  We went through the armor enthusiastically, running through his supply in no time, after the armor was fully repaired, we started to show off some of our work, comparing weapons and armor, soon, all his ore had been used up. "Blast, I don't know when the next shipment will come in, and those cursed bandits have taken over the mine up there! That oaf Caius still won't send the men to come clear it."  We made our farewells and as I stepped down from the forge, I saw Ralof leaning against the inn, smiling, "So you're a smith as well! I haven't seen Alvor that happy since one of his hammers was used to bring down a giant! anyway, My cousin, Gerdur, wants to meet you, come." We made our way to the large farmhouse down  by the north gate. "So you're the one who saved my cousin from the dragon." Gerdur said, " I didn't believe him when he told me, but I did see something fly over the barrow, big, and black."  "He did most of the work, I told her, without him, I would still be lost in that cave."  "He was always the scout," she agreed, "If you need to take supplies you are welcome, and feel free to stay as long as you like, but, if you find your way to Whiterun, Please, inform the Jarl of the dragon, I shudder to think of what will happen if it comes here."  "Of course," I assured her, "I want this thing dead as much as anyone else."