Dusk's Journey [A Skyrim Fanfic]

Chapter Four: Fathers and Followers

I remember stumbling into the Frostfruit inn last night and not wanting to deal with anyone. I threw my money down on the counter and found my own room and going to sleep. My armor was still on when I woke up, and I didn't know why. Then it all came back to me. The bandits, the blackout, the wound. It was scary how much happened in one night. I walk out to the innkeeper and ask him for directions to the nearest healer, but he just gives me a look. "You do know you can do it yourself, unless you're really that bad at healing." My body cringes at my stupidity. Are you kidding me??! "

"Uhh, yeah. Thanks anyway." I bolt to my room, preventing further embarrassment, then shed my armor.

Moving to sit on the bed, I undo the binding on my right forearm. It falls to the floor, and a terrible stench fills the room. My left hand hovers over the infected wound as I shut my eyes to concentrate. A warm tingling sensation passes over my body while the skin neatly knits itself back together. I wish I remembered this last night. Ahh well. After sorting through my belongings, all I can find is my ripped dress for clothing and I'm certainly not wearing my armor right now. Maybe they store extra clothes in the wardrobe for travelers. The wardrobe creakily swings open and I find a green dress and a pair of shoes. This doesn't look too bad on me. The colors set off my skin tone. Unlike most Dark Elves, I have a more purplish skin tone than blue or grey, but I still have the eyes of the Dunmer.

I walk into the foyer and, for the first time, look closely at it. It is very long, but with shorter side walls; almost everything is made out of wood. At the back, two smaller rooms are on the right, one of which I am staying in, and a large room to the left. A bar stands in the middle of the doors, and so does the innkeeper, currently sweeping. Two large fireplaces run down the building. On each side, two tables are placed perfectly in between three columns. A man sits at one of the tables, chewing on a loaf of bread. Maybe he can tell me where Erik is. I walk up to the blonde Nord. "Hello. Do you think-"

"You look like you've seen your share of adventure. I envy you that. In fact, maybe you can help me with something." By the sound of his voice, he couldn't be too old. Maybe his mid-twenties.

Well, it's worth a try. Maybe this man is Erik, but I don't have any idea what he would want me to do. I can always say no if it's too complicated. "Well, what do you need?"

Erik looks up at me, hopeful. "I want to be an adventurer like you, but my father says I can't. He says that he needs me to stay here and work the farm, and even if he did let me be an adventurer, we couldn't afford to buy armor. His name's Mralki, and he's the innkeeper here. I hope you can change his mind." His eyes shine and he waits for my reply.

I sigh inwardly. This is definitely Erik and his family doesn't have any coin to buy armor. For some reason I get this feeling that I'll be the one to pay for it. "I'll see what I can do."

He gasps, and stands to pull me into an awkward hug. "Thank you! I can't stand the thought of being trapped in this village for the rest of my days!"

I move back, my body stiff from the embrace. "Y-yes. I'll go talk to your father now. Goodbye." I turn to the bar and find a man dressed in miner's clothes. This must be Erik's father, the innkeeper.

As I approach him, my assumptions are confirmed. "That fool son of mine, Erik, wants to be an adventurer. He's a good-natured lad, but he's got no idea how dangerous the world really is."

"Actually, I came to talk to you about Erik."

Mralki's eyes race from the floor he is sweeping to mine, filling with worry for his son. He really is just trying to be a good father. "My son? Erik? What about him? Did something happen? Is he alright?" His calloused hands grip the broom harder, as if preparing for terrible news.

"You should let your son choose the life that he wants." At my words, his face calms and his entire body noticeably relaxes.

"But the world is a dangerous place. He has no idea what he's getting himself into. What's more, he's got not armor. I'll have to save up the money for it."

By the gods. This must be where I come in. Let's see. I check my pockets and come up with about 94 septims that I can spare. I'm saving about 250 for food and unexpected expenses. "Here. Use this to buy some armor." I hand him the gold, grudgingly. This better be worth it.

The Nord looks at me, bewildered. "You would give your own coin to help my son? I'm moved by your compassion. Your kind deed will not go unrewarded, my friend. Tell Erik I've changed my mind, and we'll visit Whiterun soon to fit him for armor."

No! This isn't part of my plan! The trip to Whiterun and back may take more than a week and that's where I'm headed anyway! "Actually, Mralki, I'm on my way to Whiterun, and I was hoping your son could accompany me. If I had some extra armor, do you think he would take it and come with me?" Obviously I'm going to have to steal it, then buy him some better armor in Whiterun.

"Of course! Anything for you, seeing that you've done so much! Here, here. Take this for expenses." He dug around in his pants pocket, and handed me the coin I gave him, and 100 coin more. "This should cover the best of steel armor." Mralki smiles at me, and I take the generous offer.

He must really trust me to take care of his son. Speaking of Erik, I should go tell him the good news. I find the handsome Nord happily drinking some mead. "Did you have any luck talking to my father?"

I laugh at his eagerness to become an adventurer. "Your father changed his mind."

Erik begins to bounce like a child, overjoyed. "I can't thank you enough, friend. I hope you'll come back to Rorikstead soon and pay me a visit. Maybe we can swap stories about our adventures over a mug of ale at the inn!"

Here's the hard part. Actually convincing him to come with me. "Actually, Erik. About that."