Deathbeds[✓]

2;4

Bishop and Karnwyr left Amber Creek in the late afternoon. Anais and Pjetur helped him pack his things in a large black knapsack from the inn and the armory.

“The only dagger I need is the one strapped to me,” Bishop scoffed and raised his small pointed blade, made of steel alloy with an engraved horn handle. “I’ve had this thing since I was a child and it has never disappointed me after all this time.”

He left out the part about the bandit raid on the small village he lived in, killing a looter with his own dagger. It held sentimental value as it was the only thing he had left from his childhood.

Pjetur shrugged his shoulders and laid the iron dagger back on the table. “Suit yourself, ranger. You will have whatever you wish at your disposal.”

Bishop smirked at Anais and winked, earning a light red blush over her cheeks that she tried to hide from turning away from him to grab more dried food.

“There should be enough for Karnwyr, but I’m sure he’ll manage for the both of you,” she smiled and handed the pack back to him.

“I still think Karnwyr should stay here with you,” Bishop grumbled and shouldered the pack before slinging his bow over his body. “He makes a good guard dog, you know that.”

“He’s not a pet, Bishop,” Anais chided. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

He rolled his eyes, “yeah, just shout them to bloody smithereens.”

Pjetur and Anais exchanged a look, and Bishop furrowed his brows.

“What was that-” he gestured between them with a pointed finger.

“Nothing,” Anais assured with a smile, then she turned serious with a slight pout. “Are you sure about this? Going alone… I don't know Bishop.”

He pinched her chin between his finger and thumb, looking down into her dark muddled eyes, and smiled at her. “I'll be back before you miss me.”

On her toes, she reached up to kiss him. “Be safe.”

Pjetur put his fist over his heart. “Gods’ speed, Bishop. We will see you at Borvald.”

Yngvarr had been easy to track and catch up with. He spent two days following their path and according to the map Agnar provided, they were heading for Borvald.

With Yngvarr were an Orc and a Nord, both wearing a heavy variant of armor and one walked with a slight limp, favoring his left side.

Karnwyr was able to pick up their trail better after passing through the river that split Falskaar in half horizontally. By the end of the third day, Bishop could see the tall plateau Borvald rested upon.

The sun sunk below the horizon and Bishop decided to rest for the night on the crest of a small hill covered by shrubs and trees.

Karnwyr found a rabbit for dinner while Bishop sat with his back against the trunk of a birch tree, eating contentedly the dried fruits and meat Anais packed.

He thought back to the strange glance between her and Pjetur when he mentioned her thuum. He wondered if anyone knew that she had been the legend in Skyrim, under the guise of a different name. Maybe it was what she wanted after all; she said she always just wanted to be herself, not Ruma.

Still, it nagged at him.

Being in Falskaar had put Anais in a new light. He knew more about her now than before, aside from the bits she would share carelessly with him. She trusted him enough for that. Here, she was barred before him. People who knew her other than her Dragonborn status.