Skyrim: Rise of the Dragonborn

Chapter 21: Hunted

Early the next day, Beric awoke to some commotion downstairs. He sat up in his bed and peered down from the balcony of the Bannered Mare. He yawned as he observed two drunk Nords throw fists. Beric noticed that one was a guard, and another seemed to be a mercenary. As the fight progressed, and the mercenary started winning, he started to realize that the mercenary was a woman. Even though she was more drunk than the guard, she was dodging punches and giving them without much effort. After one good solid punch to the jaw, the guard fell down on the ground unconscious as the Bannered Mare erupted in cheers.

"Uthgerd the Unbroken has won again!" shouted several other guards and farmers as they laughed and guzzled their mead. Beric groaned as he realized it must be early morning. He had hoped to sleep in till dawn, but he had no hope of doing so with all the noise. He sleepily put his armor back on and buckled his sword on his hip. He decided to put his new war axe on his lower back so it could be easily accessible if he were to drop his sword in a fight. After throwing his shield over his shoulder, he opened the door to see Lydia dowsing off in a chair. She jumped up to her feet as he came through the doorway.

"Are we going?" she asked as he balked her speed.

"I guess. I'm not getting any more sleep with all of this going on," he gestured downstairs.

"Understood,"

"Anything happen while I was out?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The normal people came and went. No one suspicious,"

"Good," Beric nodded as they passed through the doors. It was still night. There was no sign of the sun's presence over the horizon, "What time do you think it is?" he said looking up at the moon and stars, "Two hours past midnight?"

"More like three," she said suppressing a yawn. Beric nodded as he started walking toward the gate.

As they went on their way, Beric gazed up at the early, dark morning sky. The pale moons floated above Skyrim as the countless stars gleamed. But this is not what captured his attention the most. He marveled at the arouras that shined and danced across the atmosphere. He was once again reminded that beauty can hardly be understood from verbal description. He'd read and heard about the beauty of Skyrim but seeing it for himself was an actual experience. He sighed as his warm breath turned to steam in the cold, northern air.

"So, what brought you to Skyrim?" Lydia asked after a while.

"...Uh, it's a long story. Not one I feel like reliving," Beric said swallowing hard as his heart ached a little.

"Sorry," she said nodding.

"It's alright, you wouldn't have known. What about you? Were you born in Skyrim?"

"Yes, I was born in the Markarth hold, but I was raised in Whiterun by my aunt. My parents were killed by the Forsworn when I was three,"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Beric nodded sympathetically.

"They're in Sovengarde. That's better than here. And I never would have been able to serve the way I do now if they hadn't been. I miss them, but I know I'll see them again. Anyway, that's enough about me. What about you? Are your parents back in Cirodiil?"

"No," Beric said taking a deep breath, "They're both dead. All because of the Great War. My mother died toward the end of the conflict, and my father was killed by the Altmer right after the concordant was signed,"

"I'm sorry," she nodded, "Is that what brought you to Skyrim?"

"...Yes, it was," Beric said as his head lowered.