Northbound Pilgrimage II

Chapter LXI - Feats of Strength

Author's Note:

For those of you interested in side stories for the main fic, I have recently published the first chapter of one such one-shot tale in the Second Book Extras :)

But other than that, enjoy this chapter <3 Thank you for reading.

___________________________________________________

Bishop could already hear some yelling from the common room when he ascended the steps from the basement again.

It wasn't the usual ruckus of cheer and revelry though, there was someone shouting while the rest of the patrons seemed uncharacteristically quiet.

"C'mon! Yer just gonna... gonna sit there? On yer stupid asses?!" the male voice, clearly drunk, yelled. It was not a voice that Bishop recognized and it lacked the telltale raspiness of Dunmer voices.

Before he could reach the common room again, however, Revyn stumbled through the archway with a decidedly morose expression on his face. When the elf noticed Bishop coming back though, his frown got replaced by a smirk instantly.

"That was quick," Revyn chuckled teasingly.

"Shut up," Bishop rolled his eyes. It would have really been too quick had he actually done anything with Aeyrin down there. But now he was more intrigued by the yelling and Revyn's sour mood. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's just Rolf..." the Dunmer sighed exaggeratedly.

"'Rolf'?" Bishop raised his brow at the elf. That name did not ring a bell at all.

With another sigh, Revyn moved towards the archway leading into the common room, ushering Bishop along to see the spectacle.

There was a Nord man there, yelling at the Dunmer. Bishop recognized him after a while. It was that dimwit who had once assaulted Aeyrin at the Candlehearth before Susanna interfered. The elves were all sitting silently by their tables, looking into the ground morosely while he continued with his fit. Nobody was reacting to him at all and nobody said anything, but the man still yelled at them with persistence.

"You f'ckin' greyskins! Yer not so tough now, are you?! Pussies! You don' belong here!"

"He comes here almost every night," Revyn's now whispered words rang in Bishop's ear. "Taunting us, trying to provoke us. He wants one of us to fight him, or at least punch him."

"He wants you to punch him?" Bishop raised his brow at Revyn. Why the fuck would that idiot want that?

"Yeah," the Dunmer scoffed in response.

"So? Punch him," Bishop chuckled. What was the big deal? That idiot wanted a punch, he could get one. Surely even if he was stronger than any of the present Dunmer, all of them together could make quick work of him.

"And get arrested, right?" Revyn growled at him instantly.

"What? It's just a tavern brawl." It happened all the time. Nobody punished anyone for some brawls. Unless someone got stabbed or some shit, it was just good old settling scores.

"For you, yeah," Revyn scowled. "Didn't you read the new order? We can't attack the Nords, probably not even in self-defense. That asshole tries to time these outbursts around the patrols that come to check on us here at night. He wants one of us to get caught red-handed, fighting him. And even if we didn't get caught, if he reported it, nobody would be on our side. He would likely not even need proof. Elves can't do shit here anymore, not even defend themselves against these assholes."

Damn, Bishop had almost forgotten about that stupid order. So this ice-brain was just going around, trying to goad the Dunmer to attack him so that he could come crying to Ulfric with his black-eye that a vicious elf assaulted him? That was so fucking pathetic. And no elf could teach him a lesson.