My Random Skyrim Stories

My Sword, My Shield, My Heart (Argis) 1

Argis the Bulwark had to say he was fairly pleased with his lot in life... coming from humble beginnings to become the housecarl of the Dragonborn herself.

He was the son of a Dibelan priestess with no idea who his father was, and had been in Markarth pretty much his whole life. In his younger years he'd been tasked with menial cleaning tasks around the temple, but once he grew into a teenager he'd predictably been turned out. Not knowing where else to go, he'd simply signed on with the Markarth guards. They'd trained him and he rose through the ranks becoming quite capable in a fight. He earned the title 'the Bulwark,' for his stalwart defense in multiple skirmishes with the Forsworn. He had nearly lost an eye to a hagraven once, but his mother had managed to get a healer to fix him up well enough that he could still see shadows and fuzzy images with his bad eye, so he was still fit for duty.

His mother had also promised to pray to Dibella to fix the hideous scars he'd sustained, but Argis hadn't noticed any improvements in that regard. He'd actually taken it as a bit of an insult when she and the other priestesses lamented so much over the loss of his handsome face.

Argis had never gone to the temple for services like several of the other guards did (the idea of sleeping with a woman who might have slept with whoever his father was put him off, not to mention he saw most of the priestesses in a similar category with his mother) but after the incident that had scarred up the one side of his face— and the insult that followed— he stopped going even to visit his mother and the other matrons who'd helped raise him. He decided the divine of beauty and love evidently wasn't for him.

Guard life suited him fine. He worked, he fought, he got paid, he drank; rinse and repeat. Even when the Stormcloaks won the war and one of the Silver-Bloods became Jarl, not much changed for Argis.

Until she showed up...

The Dragonborn, Chrystara, was a beautiful little Breton woman who had impressed Aris the first moment she'd walked into Markarth. Not five minutes after she'd walked in the gates, this unassuming little brunette in studded leather armor had noticed and thwarted a Forsworn assassin before he could kill an innocent bystander. She was a summoner, and her summoned familiar had pounced on the man just in time to stop his raised dagger from stabbing a woman in the back. Chrystara had then followed up with a wicked looking summoned sword through the would-be-assassin's back.

Argis had been one of the guards who had to clean up and then follow up on that incident. Or at least, the captain of the guards' idea of "follow up"... Argis and several of his peers thought they should be doing more active investigation, but really they only increased their guard postings.

But the increased patrols gave Argis more opportunities to catch glimpses of Chrystara around town. She steadily grew in popularity... every one seemed to like her, even the Jarl... for such a small woman she was surprisingly adept at rooting out Forsworn encampments, and she seemed to enjoy taking bounties from the Jarl.

She was also unique in appearance... a break, in Argis's eyes, of that divine image of perfect beauty he'd grown up with... she had scars, but she still looked lovely. Her body had the eye-catching shape that turned a man's head, but she was also outfitted in rugged armor. One of her arms had lightning burns all the way up to her neck, but she wore them with pride. There were pox-like burn scars dotting her shoulders and even a few across her face, but Argis thought they just made her look star-dusted. She had flowing dark brown hair and strikingly dark blue eyes— she wasn't the dainty and delicate, fair and golden-haired image that the priestesses taught a woman should be, she was a fearsome, powerful beauty.

Everyone admired her, and Argis was no exception. So when whispers began of the Jarl planning to name her Thane, Argis was one of several men who put his name down for potentially becoming her housecarl.