Chapitre 227: Touring
Michael leaves the Dead Man's Drink and spends most of the day milling around and getting to know the other people living in Falkreath. All while trading and selling off the loot he'd gathered from the nordic crypt.
The most interesting of those he had met are thus;
Lod, the local Blacksmith who did almost everything from making and maintaining horseshoes, blades, cutlery, nails, hell, he'd even apparently made the Jarl a statue from a mould that'd been sent to him. The guy was your typical Nord, wary of outsiders, but once you got through his stony exterior, he was a pleasant enough person. The man had even invited Michael to have a drink and share some stories with him, he'd have to make time for that later on.
Solaf, the owner of the general store, Grey Pines Goods. A mouthy guy without a filter on what he speaks. You'd think that someone would remind him that constantly speaking ill of the Thalmor and Empire that rules them would be a bad idea, but apparently he hadn't gotten that through his thick skull yet. It was only a matter of time until the Thalmor kidnapped him or something for being so outspoken.
A Redguard named Zaria, the local Alchemist and owner of Grave Concoctions. She'd been quite eager to buy all of the Vampire Dust he'd gathered, the woman had an almost morbid fascination, bordering on obsession on anything concerning poisons or death itself. Were the locals not so protective of their ancestor's graves, she'd have likely been digging up bodies to dissect them... At least, that's the impression Michael got from her... All in all though, she was tolerable enough that Michael could see himself taking basic alchemy lessons from her... That would have to wait until the others woke up first.
Michael sold off most of the miscellaneous crap to Solaf, the clothes, vampire robes, etc. He kept the soul gems and ice atronach staff however, knowing that Charlotte would be eager to study it, she might even be able to replicate its effects with her own ice magic, which would be an interesting thing to observe.
He made sure to show Lod the Draugr Deathlord's ebony armour too, but... Well.
Flashback :
"Michael, did you need something else?" Lod asks while stowing away the swords Michael had looted from the Vampire thralls.
He nods, "I've got some armour I want you to take a look at, I need it refitted, possibly reforged..." he trails off while pulling out the armour from his inventory. He'd had to take apart the upper body armour entirely so he could actually fit it in the Book of Heroes, though, it wasn't the rotten stench that hits Lod first...
"T-Talos be... I-is that ebony!? All of it!?" Lod exclaims as he completely ignores Michael's use of his inventory, his hands trembling as he lifts a single gauntlet.
Michael nods, "Had to pry it off of a Draugr's corpse... Literally." he adds the last part with a whisper. "Can you do anything with it? It's way too big to wear, so I was hoping you could reforge it or something."
"No..."
...
"Sorry?" Michael asks, surprised that the man would refuse so quickly despite his apparent enthusiasm.
Lod lets out a forlorn sigh, "I'm sorry to say, I simply am not able to do anything with it. I've never worked with ebony before, and have no idea how I'd go about reforging it without ruining the metal. Smithing can be a delicate process, a single mistake could ruin it entirely. I refuse to experiment with your property."
"Do you know anyone who would know what to do with it? I kind of what to make use of it instead of letting it collect dust."
Lod shakes his head, "The only one I know of is Eorlund Greymane in Whiterun, he's considered the best smith in Skyrim, but he deals mainly in the steel made from the Skyforge... I'm afraid I can't help you more with this."
Michael lets out a sigh, knowing that Skyrim would be his destination once the girls are awake and have learned the local language. Fortunately, Whiterun was between Winterhold, so it wasn't much of a departure from his previous plans. "Don't mind it, Lod. The information is more than enough, thanks."
Flashback end :
Indeed, troublesome, so he was going to be stuck with his stinky ebony armour for the time being. With all that done, he decides to spend the rest of the day at the Dead Man's Drink, looking after Tiffania, Charlotte, and Charlotte's mother. It was then that he decided if they weren't awake by tomorrow morning that he'd have the local healers check them out.
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The next day :
*Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang!*
"Hey! Hello!? Anyone in there!?" a rather frantic voice shouts as they rapidly pound against the door, awakening Michael who immediately scowls up at the ceiling from his bed.
"Michael, I know you sleep here! I'll keep knocking until you get up or the Dragon's return!"
...
"Just piss off and let me sleep you bastards, I don't know how early it is, but if the sun hasn't risen yet I'll have half a mind throw you off a cliff!" Michael groggily shouts, deciding not to remark on the dragon comment for the time being, causing the said knocker to go silent momentarily.
*Knock, Knock, Knock.*
"We have need of your help! There'll be gold in it for you!... And my respect!... Lives rely on you, Michael!" the voice continues and Michael finally has enough, rolling out of bed and pulling on his clothes before marching to the door.
He quickly pulls it open, causing the person knocking to flinch and back away slightly, "Whaddya want!?" he asks, glaring at the sheepish-looking man. He knew who it was, having met the man yesterday over some drinks.
Valdr, a Nord hunter with blonde hair and tanned skin, which indicates just how much time he spent in the Skyrim sun. He was a leather harness that protected most of his upper body and had metal access decorating it, along with studded leather armour that protected his lower body. On his back was a well-maintained hunting bow, and on his hip was a skinning knife and a larger hunting knife next to it.
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