Capítulo 237: 'Difine' Troubles
The group soon returns to the Dead Man's Drink, though, with a noticeable slump in Charlotte and Illococoo's posture. The news that not even this world could potentially heal her mother had hit her quite hard, so Michael was surprised that she hadn't asked to travel to another world once Tiffania could.
He reassures her though, explaining that one priest in a backwater town wouldn't know everything... Worst comes to worst, they could just infect her with Lycantrophy to sees if Werewolves poison and disease immunity would affect her at all... Of course, that would be an extreme measure, but a measure no less.
Still, Runil's words had given him an idea. Usually, he'd just scoff at the mention of gods and miracles, but when you were in a world where a God had literally just spoken to you a day ago, and where you knew very well that they existed, options requiring deities didn't seem so out there...
The only problem now was how to gather an Aedra's attention... In the game you could garner the blessing of any God, simply because you were the Dragonborn, but here? Aside from being from outside this realm, they were simple mobs, mere NPC's in the grand game of the gods.
So, they were left with trying to gain the sympathies of an Aedra, enough so that they'd be willing to extend their power to heal Maria... But what God? Which God would be willing to help?
Michael's knowledge on this world's gods was fairly limited... Why would you remember the names of not-characters who you never actually interact with? At least with the Daedra they speak to you and make requests... The Aedra? Probably sitting on a cloud somewhere having a fucking tea party, all while mortals routinely get fucked at every corner... Yeah, as you can tell, Michael didn't like these 'oh-so-moral' beings...
The only Gods he actually remembered the names of were Akatosh, the big daddy dragon OG. Arkay(Only because Runil wouldn't shut up about him). Mara, because you needed her necklace to get married in the game... And Talos, which was on the tongue of almost every Nord, simply to spite the Thalmor as they attempted to stamp out his worship.
His knowledge didn't extend that far outside of their names however, so he'd have to research them to see who suited their plight the most. Surely Maria's sacrifice for her daughter was admirable enough to gain a boon? If not her, who else would deserve it?
Michael's brought out of his brooding/thoughts when someone taps him on the shoulder, he turns and crooks a brow when he sees Nenya, the Jarl's Steward standing behind him. "Er, hello?" he questions with slight confusion, wondering what would require a direct visit from one of the town's officials.
"Greetings Michael." she offers, seating herself at the opposite side of the table, "I see you are doing well this morning? Certainly better than the Jarl... His age can't keep up with his drinking habits I'm afraid." she jokes before she lets out a sigh, "Nor can his body handle anymore drunken fistfights." she quietly says.
"Is the Jarl alright? You're making it sound like he'd been crippled or something?"
Nenya shakes her head, "No, not anything as dire as that. I'm just making an observation, perhaps if you drank with him again you'd remind him of that... Disregarding that, I'm here to see if you still wish to take up our offer? Our need for your services hasn't faded, indeed, we may need your assistance sooner than later."
"And what would that be for? You got another bear you want skinned or something?" he asks, knowing all too well where his talents lay.
"No, not this time. We actually need someone to deal with a group of bandits that have recently moved into the area. Would you be willing to assist?"
Michael shrugs, "Sure, as long as the pay is good." he says, ignoring Nenya's surprise at the fact that he wasn't going to ask if he would get any reinforcements or help. She makes a mental note of it, and decides to see how he does. Would he even ask for assistance from the town guard?
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Elsewhere :
A young man with brown hair and bright hazel eyes flicks the reigns again, impatiently urging the horse to pull the carriage faster. His name was Surtr, and despite the fact that he owned the carriage and the many goods it held, it was no better than a regular peasant.
Indeed, everything he had with him had been gifted to him by his father, much to the dismay of his mother and brother, the latter of which felt betrayed that such an opportunity was given to Surtr over him.
Surtr could do nothing but nod his head when his father had made his decision however... Of course, he'd always dreamed of leaving his glum and rather boring life at the Stonehills, but he never expected his father to drop the opportunity directly on his lap. It was so sudden that he felt as if the man was trying to get rid of him, but Surtr quickly discarded these thoughts, his father had given him this opportunity, so he wouldn't challenge his honour by concluding something so malicious.
He'd been given enough gold to safely get him to Cyrodil, along with iron ingots and jewellery to trade once he got there. All of this was his father's life savings, so Surtr was very, very anxious to actually make it to Cyrodil without running into trouble.
For that, he'd hired two bodyguards that'd accompany him to the border, Stanal and Rume. They seemed to be talented fighters, and were equipped with heavy steel armour, so hopefully they'd be enough to deter any would-be bandits. Right...? Surtr knew he wouldn't be able to defend anything himself, his body was too weak, unlike the strong and stout physique most Nords had, his was more lean and thin, making some of the folk in the Stonehills joke that he should have been born female... And with his little to no combat training, he'd be a liability in any fight...
Regardless, once he passed through Falkreath, his first stop would be Bruma, and from there, well, he'd have to find out, wouldn't he!
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