We have been travelling for nigh on 20 moons now. I don't know how much longer we have till we get to Skyrim. I still can not comprehend the magnitude of importance that Griv thinks this situation is. I mean it was just one vampire right? But if Griv says its important, then that is good enough for me. To think, me being a Imperial Army deserter, I might just be welcomed into Skyrim. They have a new high king now, and the Nords are independent from the Imperial Emperor, or whoever the new one is now, being that the old one was murdered by the Dark Brotherhood. I wonder who this new High King is, Griv hasn't told me yet. But I know it is between two people, the two leaders of the rebellion. The mysterious Dragonborn, or Ulfric Stormcloak. Things haven't exactly been boring travelling with the old man. He has been training me every night in the arts of swordsmanship. The concepts seem really complicated to me. Why can't I just use my hammer and smash the persons head in? I am slowly making progress though, but not without a lot of bruises and welts covering my entire body. Then there is the thing of Griv's ability to use magic. How can a fight truly be fair if your opponent can cast magic? I have seen him roast a pack of wolves by just waving his hand and a ball of fire exploding in the middle of them. It just isn't fair. I will ask him on the morrow if he can teach me the art of magic. It would be really useful in fights. It is funny, this whole keeping a journal thing was Griv's idea, and yet I seem to be using this time to take my mind off things, and to keep my sanity.. Horst -First Tirdas of Hearthfire-
"Get up boy! We are losing daylight." growls Griv.
"Surely we can just relax for one day? Where is the harm of that?" pouts Horst.
"We are close to the border now, one more day and we will be there. Then we can relax in an inn." replies Griv. Sometimes he wishes that Horst would have stayed back in the Imperial city, but then he realizes that he rather enjoys the company. Horst reminded Griv of himself when he was younger. What he'd give to be young again.
"Fine. What is it like in Skyrim?" asks Horst. This will be the first of many questions that Horst asks today Griv knows.
"Cold in the northern parts, warm in the southern parts. But it is a lot colder than Cyrodil, so you had best be wearing a cloak till you get used to it. It is a rather remarkable place though." answers the mentor. His voice tinged with a slight rememberance of past times. His apprentice liked the thought of adventuring to a new place. He hadn't seen much of the world other then the Imperial City. Being a Blacksmith he couldn't travel anywhere.
"What happened when you first went to Skyrim? Why did you leave to Cyrodil?" questions Horst.
"I was caught crossing the border into Skyrim in an Imperial ambush that also caught the rebel leader Ulfric Stormcloak. I escaped the chopping block barely, and from there I went to Solitude and joined the Legion. I knew that the only way to beat the Thalmor was for the Empire to stay united. Well when the Stormcloaks attacked Solitude, and forced their way into the base of General Tullius, I was knocked out. And when I woke, there was a sword at my throat and I was given a choice, either leave Skyrim and never return, or die then and there. I chose to leave, but I wasn't going to let them think they had beaten me. So I set the bastard who had a sword to my throat on fire, and cut my way through all the stormcloaks in my way. I stole a horse and rode all the way from Solitude to Hammerfell. An from there to Cyrodil. I stayed there and haven't looked back till now."
Horst was taken aback from Griv's story. He was riding with a former Imperial Legionare who fought against the Stormcloack Rebellion, and lived to tell about it. A new profound respect for Griv was taking place in Horst. This is the person that can teach me all I need to know. Horst was quiet for so long that Griv finally answered all the questions that the youth had. But he was not so lucky as that.
"Can you teach me how to use magic?" asks Horst.\
"Magic? Why would you want to know how to use it?" replies Griv, slightly astonished.
"Because it would be really useful in a fight, and could very well save my life." says Horst.
"It is really useful, but highly dangerous. I guess it will do no real harm to try and teach you. Not everyone has the ability, and you may be one who can't. We will begin the lessons tonight." states the old man.
Horst was about to reply when Griv held up a hand to signal a stop. He then held up a finger to his lips, "Don't speak." Dismounting very slowly, Griv unsheathed his sword, the blade humming with raw power. Horst also dismounted, first reaching for the sword Griv gave him, but then instead grabbing his smithing hammer. The grip and balance of the hammer felt perfect in his hand, a true extension of his arm. Slowly the duo advanced up to a nearby tree. Suddenly a group of voices were heard arguing.
"Why are we going this way? I don't feel like being thrown in an Imperial jail!" yells a deep rumbly voice.
"We wouldn't have to go to Cyrodil if you hadn't have been foolish and tried to rob a group of the priests of Talos." replies a higher voice, a woman's voice.
"Both of you shut your faces, we aren't alone!" growls a music toned voice, an elf maybe?
Suddenly Griv stands up and walks towards the group of people. Horst follows his lead wondering what the old man is doing revealing the element of surprise. The group was a very odd combination of races, one Orc, one Breton female, and one Bosmer. The Orc was dressed in plated Orcish armor, along with a two handed greatsword on his back. The Breton was wearing robes and had a staff with a crystal on the top in her left hand. While the Bosmer had a quiver full of arrows, and an Elvish bow in his hand, one arrow already knocked.
"I would advise not trying to shoot me elf." states Griv, in a very joke-like manner.
The elf laughs and says "Why is that old man?" Griv was wearing an old brown robe to cover his armor, which was made up of dragonplate. His head was exposed, showing his long grey hair and wrinkled face. He was even stooped over a bit to hide the broad shoulders he possessed.
"Because you may not like where the arrow ends up."
"We shall see won't.." his sing song like voice stopped short, a dagger seemed to have sprouted out the front of his neck. Blood spurted from his mouth. He sank to his knees a confused look on his face. Finally he pitched forward and fell on the ground, dead.
Griv laughed. "Nice throw boy, but it seems we have scared our two friends here."
Horst smiled, he had been working on his knife-throwing ability and was pretty decent now. "I guess so."
The Orc recovered before the Breton in robes, yanking his ugly greatsword from its sheathe and charging at Horst, a wordless battle cry coming from his throat. Griv just stayed put, leaving his apprentice to deal with this one himself. Horst repositioned himself, putting his left side towards the charging orc. The orc swung an overhead cut that would have cleaved him in half, that was if he was still there. Horst had side stepped the cut and gave the Orc a slight tap on the head with his hammer. That made the Orc angry, he screamed and turned around giving a vicious side swipe with the blade. Horst ducked beneath the blade and brought the flat end of the hammer down on his right elbow, Griv could hear the snap of the bone. The orc started yelling curses until a vicious side swing of Horst's hammer caved in his head.
"Get down!!!" yells Griv. Immediately Horst drops to the ground, just barely avoiding a spike of ice that would have impaled him.
Griv wasted no time in talking, he charged the female wizard. With a swipe of his wrist, he sent a bolt of fire towards her, making her move to the left to avoid getting burnt to a crisp. But moving to the left meant right into the path of a charging Griv. The cloth padding of the robe was not meant for protecting the user from a powerful swipe of a sharpened sword. The sword went through the cloth and through all the muscles and skin and bone like it was nothing. Her entire right arm was cleaved off. The Breton would have screamed, but a solid backhand swing took off her head as well.
"Nicely done kid, you survived your first fight. I hate facing mages, its hardly fair to them. I can wield a sword, and cast magic. Plus I have armor, so they are as good as dead when I face them." There was no cockiness in his voice, just a bit of sadness.
"But its hardly fair for regular warriors facing mages, they can freeze us, burn us, or zap us with a flick of the wrist." replies Horst.
Griv just grunted. It was getting dark, but in the distance you could barely make out the outline of a mountain.
"Look now boy, that is one of the many mountains that surround Skyrim. It truly is remarkable." said Griv, pointing towards the mountain.
"Wow... That is gigantic!" exclaims Horst in awe.
"We make camp here. Take off your armor. We begin your lessons now." commands Griv.
Horst did as he was told, barely able to keep the excitement from his movements.
"Now, empty your mind of everything. Good. Focus on one thing. That one thing is fire. Think of all you know of that substance, past experiences, things you have read, etc. Now use that image and create it with your mind. Project it into reality. Cause fire to appear before your eyes!" Griv shouted the last sentence, and jumped back in surprise when the ground beneath him caught fire.
"Well done!" said Griv, pride full in his voice.
Horst laughed, and was the happiest he has ever been. He was absolutely ecstatic.
"That is enough for one day, it is time to sleep. Tomorrow we arrive in Skyrim." says Griv.
*End of Chapter Two*
