Luckily, the guard soon returned with word from the Jarl, the Companions were to be allowed inside... That was all. Hmm, seems like trying to ride in on their coattails wasn't going to work.
"Ah, come on! You think I'm the murderer or something? That I'm going aid whoever it is when I get inside? Why else wouldn't I be allowed inside!?" Michael exclaims as the Companions lead their carts full of mammoth meat into the city.
The guard sneers are Michael under his helmet, taking a great deal of satisfaction from his plight. "Jarl's orders, only the Companions can enter."
...
"Yeah, well? I came here to join the Companions, so, how about that?" Michael says, getting a crooked brow from Aela and Vilkas who were walking past.
The guard snorts, "Oh, really? I'd suggest you look elsewhere for work, they wouldn't let someone like you join... They only accept warriors, not whatever you claim to be."
"Perhaps you should stop speaking for us, or do you believe we lack the wit to deal with our own problems?" she asks, causing the guard to shut up.
"You needed him to gain access to the city, didn't you?" the guard mentally retorts, not saying such things out loud for obvious reasons.
Vilkas crosses his arms, "Aela, maybe you should go on ahead and let me deal with this. You've on edge since we got back..."
She shakes her head, "Of course, that hunt could barely be called so. the mammoth rolled over and let us finish it. Hardly even worth the trip!"
Vilkas just lets out an exasperated sigh, gesturing her to go on without him, she does so and Vilkas turns to Michael, "So, you want to join?... Well, I have to say I've never heard of anyone called Michael," he remarks as he looks Michael over a couple times.
...
"I just wanted to enter the city today... Whatever this still works, right?" Michael thinks to himself before shaking his head, "Yeah, I'm good with a sword and I'm sure I beat most men."
Vilkas hums, "You sure? Because we'll test you on this as soon as we get back.." he leans closer, "If you're just trying to get a ride into the city, don't bother, because I'll throw you out myself." he grouses.
"Try me."
...
Vilkas slowly nods, "Fine, you've got fire so, we'll give you a shot."
"Ah, before that, let me grab my friends."
"Only Companions, no friends or family." the guards atop the wall decides to chip in.
Michael glares at him, "Fine, just give me a minute to let them know." he says, leaving Vilkas at the gate to explain the situation to the others.
To be frank, Tiffania, Charlotte, and Illococoo didn't care all that much, but Medresi was seething, making Michael wonder if she'd start suddenly spitting fire...
"Just sit back and relax, I'll try and help finding the murderer while I'm at it." he offers.
"Be quick about it, I'm not comfortable sitting out here with all this gold on me." Medresi says.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With that, Michael and Vilkas enter the city, giving Michael his first real look inside the place... The first thing he noticed was the familiar forge on his right as soon as he enters the city. If he were honest, it was his most visited location back when he played the game. It was so close to Whiterun's fast travel point that using it to sell all his loot just made practical sense.
There was also the fact that he could quickly train his smithing there too, buying materials from the shop and using them to level up... Most would remember that dire time in their lives where they monotonously crafted iron daggers in hopes of levelling enough to make Daedric or Dragon armour.
Regardless, this particular smithy wasn't why he was here in the city. He wanted to see Eorlund Gray-Mane to get his ebony stuff made into something useful, but that'd have to wait until the murderer was found... Or until he properly joined the companions, not something he was sure he wanted to do.
Sure, having access to what was essentially a mercenary company was useful in a whole manner of ways, and he'd probably never want for work there. But that didn't mean he wanted to align himself with folk so close to Hircine... Werewolves.
The city of Whiterun itself was split into three parts. The Plains District, which was the lowest and most ventured, and held most of the stores and merchants in the city. It's the first place a visitor sees, and a place where visitors usually stay.
The Wind District, where most residential buildings and estates were placed. The height of this area varied, the most expensive families living higher than the more modest ones... Of course, the Companion's home Jorrvasker was positioned above them all directly next to the Skyforge. A sign if you would, of where the city's priorities should be.
Lastly, there was the Cloud District, where the Jarl's place of residence Dragonsreach lay. Other than Dragonsreach, there was also the prison, guard barracks, and other buildings with military applications.
Michael took this all in as he and Vilkas marched through the city. It was mid-afternoon by now, and everyone else was inside or sleeping due to the curfew the Jarl had ordered to prevent further deaths.
They pass by the dying tree called the Gildergreen which Michael distinctly remembers healing in the game... They go up the steps and enter the doors of the large upturned longship...
Inside, well... He's greeted by a huge, warm room with a long table in the center covered with food and drinks. His attention was drawn elsewhere however, along with everyone else in the room.
"YOU WANT TO GO, JACKLE!? THINK YOU CAN BEST ME!?" a large bald Nord shouts, angrily patting himself on the chest as if he were a gorilla, he's gesturing towards an even taller, lithe-looking orc female. She was bald aside from the single black ponytail that hung just to the top of her neck.
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The woman named 'Jackle' just scoffs at the challenge however, "To best you would imply an actual fight! You'd go down like a sack of stones! I don't even know how you were accepted here in the first place, you empty-headed braggart!"
"Oh, she's got you there Bureld. You just gonna take that? Where's your pride as a man?" a woman with warpaint on her face and wearing hide armour remarks with a smirk, obviously enjoying riling Bureld up.
"Y-you think!?... THAT DOES IT!" the bald Nord exclaims, lunging towards Jackle with wild fists. He was broader and sturdier than Jackle, but obviously lacked her agility and reach. His first few strikes miss, leaving him open to the Orc woman's counterattack.
*Pap! Pap!*
Two jabs to the face cause the Nord to stumble slightly as he attempts to avoid more, his earlier fierce expression changing to one of surprise, caution, and a slight, almost imperceptible fear.
Michael and Vilkas watch as the fight continues, the duo wailing on each other, but it's clear that Jackle is the superior opponent. They both lack any sort of real technique, but they were fast. Jackle might be able to reach Mercer's speeds if given enough training.
"Other new bloods, their tempers run hot, so it's best to let them get it out of their systems... Besides, Bureld could stand to be cut down a peg or two." Vilas remarks with crossed arms.
So they're newbies...? That makes Michael wonder how tough the older Companion members are... "To be honest, I'm surprised to see an Orc here. I thought them and Nords didn't get on well?"
Vilkas shrugs, "Your race doesn't matter to the Companions, as long as your will is strong and your arm is stronger. We would probably have some Cats here too if they weren't barred from the city."
The fight quickly comes to an end, Jackle knocking the wind of the Nord with an uppercut before pulling his head down into a knee strike. The sound of Bureld's nose breaking causes a few to wince, but the rest just cheer and jeer as the fight is concluded.
"Know your betters, Nord. Or you'll only live a short, stupid life." Jackle spits, heading back to her seat and downing her mead, ignoring the few bruises forming on her dull-green skin.
Michael glances at Vilkas, "So, what's this 'test' I'll be taking?"
"I'd usually have you meet the Harbinger, but old Kodlak is out on business, so it falls to me to determine your worth... Come out back, we'll see if your confidence is just arrogance." he says, heading through the hall and out Jorrvasker towards the training grounds.
The other Companions pick up on this and follow, wanting to watch the 'new blood' get the crap kicked out of them. They'd all been through it before, so it was time they laugh at someone else experiencing it. The only one left behind is the unfortunate Bureld, who was still nursing his broken nose.
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Outside, Michael is told to leave his weapons on a nearby bench as Vilkas tosses him a blunted steel one. "If you'd prefer something else, take one from there." he says, gesturing at the nearby weapons rack.
Michael shakes his head, "I'll be fine with this... Annnd this." he says while grabbing an extra dagger, presenting a confident face despite the fact he was internally screaming since his Gandalfr runes wouldn't work with training weapons...
"Good, then come, attack me." he says, raising his steel shield while preparing his sword for a counterattack.
As tempted as Michael was to simply Blink Strike behind him, it was obvious this was just a physical exercise. The Companions were mainly Nords, so using magic was a sure-fire way to either get kicked out, or ambushed as you slept...
Michael ignores the jeers of the other Companions as he steps forwards, sword in his right and dagger in his left. He'd never trained with shields before, and he wasn't going to use this opportunity to try. So he decided to dual-wield and see what'd happen... At worst he could just drop one of his weapons.
He marches forwards and steps around Vilkas, only to find the man's defence to be rock-solid. His shield never strayed from Michael, making it almost impossible to actually try to attack him... Fortunately, this wasn't some poncy duelling class with strict rules.
He bounces forward on the ball of his left foot and slams a hard heel into Vilkas' shield. The Companion however just knocks his foot to the side and makes a stab at Michael's ribs, only for it to be blocked by Michael's sword.
With the shield temporarily out of the way, he pushes forwards, keeping Vilkas' sword locked with his own and attempts to stab Vilkas over the shield with his dagger. The man easily ducks back however, bringing his shield back around and slamming it into Michael's arm, causing him to lose his dagger from the impact.
With that, Michael backs away to gather his wits and plan his next moves. Vilkas defences were seriously tough, stronger and more skilled than any shieldbearer he'd seen back in Halkeginia. Not to mention how much stronger the man was compared to the humans of that world.
Michael goes forward for another attack, slamming the hilt of his sword against Vilkas' shield, another counter-attack approaches, but Michael subtly uses Convection to slide slightly to the left. This confuses the man as he'd never encountered such strange movement before, allowing Michael to drop his sword and get an elbow strike into Vilkas' chin, only for the man to tank it like a champ and jab his blade at Michael, the blunt tip of which sticks against his sternum, signalling the end of the spar.
"Alright, that's enough. Good fight." Vilkas states with a nod of approval. "You're far better than what that lot over there did." he says, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the still jeering crowd of Companions. Regardless of Michael showing strength, it was in the Guild's nature to downplay and banter with one another.
"So, am I in?"
Vilkas pats him on the shoulder, "Aye, you're in. Now put away the weapons, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."
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