Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch1 - This Must Be The Place

'Otalo got up from his evening meal to open the door, beating his steward and wife to the task. With a hand on his sword he slid open the small hatch set into it, relaxing as he saw Timo his brother. He flung the door open and grasped his brother in a wide embrace.
"Timo you're back! I was worried, you've been delayed."
"As Tava willed, we arrived back in Rihad harbour a day ago. As Tava willed I have brought a passenger and a guest..." Timo stepped aside to reveal a large Nord, grey haired and skeletal with an empty but soulless and wild look to his eyes. Otalo struggled to hide his shock at the sight
"Sheogarath's orbs what happened to you? I've seen Draugr with more flesh on them!"

The man knew his formalities and bowed carefully, holding out his right arm for the Tamrielic armclasp in welcome.
"I am Beorning Wildfire of the Fire clan, I hail from Bruma in Cyrodiil and am honoured to meet my saviour's brother."
"I am Otalo of the Kha-Yham tribe of the Ra-Gada people you're welcome to take salt, bread and water with me and my household."
They completed the armclasp and Otalo pushed Timo and Beorning to a bench at the table.
"Nusrat, stable their horses and see to their equipment. Sadia bring sustenance and set the table, we have guests and a long night of adventures to hear! I will get the water for our guests to wash."

The grey bearded, wiry ex-hetman steward and Otelo's dark haired, dusky eyed wife, who still moved with a youthful grace, attended to their respective tasks whilst Otalo took a large bucket out to the well. Beorning stared hungrily at the bread on the table, he vaguely remembered his manners and the common customs of men although the beast within eyed the food with impatience.

The household moved efficiently and effectively to stoke the fire, bring wine, food and water to the table. In deference to his guests obvious hunger Otalo passed bread and mead to the man before taking him to bathe. As he washed the shaking man, who had little strength left in his emaciated body, starting with his hair, then face, arms, hands and feet he noticed many thousands of tiny scars along with the other older larger scars. He wondered at the nature of the small scars although the larger scars indicated he had been a warrior at some stage.

The table was brimming with food; chicken with spicy lemons, duck cooked in oranges, fried potatoes, shredded cabbage and plenty of bread. Then there were the sherberts, sweetrolls, apple pies and honey nut treats topped off finally with the golden desert wine of the Ail'ikr. The Wildfires eyes flamed at sight of the feast but his host had a warning
"Eat slowly and chew my friend, it will take days before your stomach is ready for a whole feast. Otherwise you will be looking for Peryite down the hole in the waste pit."
Timo ate readily whilst his brother impatiently waited for the news and the story, he couldn't stop himself once the first plates were cleared.
"So Timo... please start your tale I am starved of news of your voyage. Now your belly is fed please feed my head."

"Ok, ok. We set sail on The Marakib for Northpoint by way of Sentinel and Daggerfall, we took our desert wine for trade and our aim was to finally pick up rare gems and skins in Northpoint for a straight run back to Rihad. We made Sentinel in good time and traded your fine lemons and sherbert for silks there. Swiftly, for the Aedra were with us, we sailed to Daggerfall and made good money on the silks and wine. As you know, the Marakib is a great ship and can outrun any pirate as long as the Aedra are with us." He grinned at his brother.
"We loaded up with skins, hard woods and the gems then headed south for a straight run home."
Timo picked up a sweetroll and ate it thoughtfully, sipping a glass of wine. Beorning continued to eat and drink, at a steady pace, as his belly filled so the haunted bestial aspect retired from his features.

"Ha, it felt like the Aedra had left us on the way back. The seas were running against us and a headwind forced us to take long reaches and tacks just to make a little progress. Being made to wait by the weather can be perilous to the crew, yet the fishing was good and we had plenty of supplies so the crew were in good spirits. It was a week of this weather, before we saw the storm brewing in the distance. It was big and blowy, rain lashing and medium sized waves. We reefed the rigging and rode the storm. Running with the waves and often surfing their crests. The Marakib is a fine vessel and her crew a worthy one so it didn't cause us much trouble.

The storm blew out and most of the crew went to bed whilst I worked out just where we could be. I measured the angle of the sun against the lodestone for north whilst calculating how far we had sailed. Then measuring again to find we were just off Summerset Isle. Not a good place to be. I noticed that a long winged Gull had settled on the bowsprit, thinking it too was tired after the storm I threw some bread to the bird.
The Bo'sun's mate told me off."
"No, no, no sir it's unlucky to carry a non-paying passenger, even a bird, on a ship."
With that he threw water at the bird and shouted to get rid of it. Each time the bird would fly off and try to land again. This happened for an hour until the bird finally flew off and disappeared. An hour later a large squall appeared to the west.

"All hands on deck!" I shouted and then set about readying the Marakib. This storm was worse than the first. Not as long but harder, more unpredictable as if the weather gods were angry.
Just as dawn was breaking the storm eased away. I was left to find where we were again.
The white bird returned, I threw no food, the Bo'sun this time told me the bird was unlucky and eventually chased it off. Another storm raised even worse than the previous two. The crew by the end of it were haggard and exhausted, holding on to each other as the sun broke through the clouds.

The white bird returned but as the Bo'sun and his mate went down the deck with bows and slings the Cox, a wise man and priest of Tava, told them to stop. The crew all looked at me...
"I'm inclined to agree with the Cox but would like to know why; Abad-In why?"
Abad-In the Cox answered “Tava has sent one of her long-winged spirits, an Albatross, as a messenger. We have been through a storm and on the first morning the bird was there. You shoo'ed it, when a big storm came that night the crew were convinced they were right. Now there has been the same pattern. During my morning meditation Tava has come to me and said there would be storms until You turn the Marakib and follow her messenger. Now we must hope that Tava will protect us if we follow her will.”

I am not one to argue with the Aedra, we threw food to the Albatross and when it took flight followed it. It flew low above the waves, strong and steady for several hours. Then, suddenly, it furled it's wings and appeared to be walking on the water. The crew cried out in amazement at this wonder. As we approached, we realised it was not a wonder but a large tree, trunk with a skeletal figure wrapped around it. The crew raised their weapons in fear but I stopped them
"Tava has led us here, why would she lead us to harm? This must be the place."
We lowered ropes and brought the man, near death on board. Abad-In used all of his restorative arts to keep the man alive. He said he was wanted by the Dominion, so I smuggled him out of Rihad and here he is."

All eyes turned to Beorning, who had fallen asleep on his plate. Carefully the brothers took him to the spare room and laid him on the bed with a muttered prayer
"Tava protect you, friend."

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch2 - Once in a lifetime

Beorning awoke feeling better rested and more alive than he had since, he couldn’t remember when. Warm light streaming through the shutters made the motes of dust dance around the windows in his room and the red quilt covering the bed was luxuriously comfortable. A languorous feeling lay deep within and he had a moments tranquility before past memories crowded his memory. How did I get here? being foremost, with it the crush of the cramped prison cell, Summerisle, the underground river, the sea and escape then a blank until the creak of rigging, the noise of town and the dust of the desert. People, dinner then another blank and then this glorious bed.

His waking mind focused on recent memories. He’d been quiet on board the ship and Captain Timo, graciously, had asked few questions. Perhaps not trusting the tongues of his crew once they reached port, Timo’d quickly disguised Beorning in local clothes and a keffiyeh before rushing him to his brothers house. Which meant that he’d likely brought trouble to the house, which brought Beorning upright and awake.

With a groan he got up from the bed and found a fine green tunic and brown breeks by the bed, that actually fit him. He wriggled in the good cloth remembering the feel of clothes that actually fit. Once dressed he walked downstairs to find his host already sitting at the long dining table.
“Greetings to my host and saviour.” He nodded at the two men, “It is time I told my story, if you have time?” His voice was deep but rough and irregular through a lack of use.
“Indeed we have, we are intrigued to know!” Otalo’s voice was mid-range and smooth, with humble tones but an experienced edge. The sound of someone used to command but did not require shouting to achieve it.
“Words will be slow, I think, I’ve not had human company for many years until Timo here rescued me.”
“Thank Teva, not me, I was merely the Goddess’ instrument!”
“Teva? If I remember we call her Kynareth and my Nord family call her Kyne, she has ever been my patron.” Beorning smiled, in a face that had not seen much to smile about in a long time. “Let me think where to start…” he paused and then nodded “yes. I suspect you remember the of the Battle of the Red Ring?”
“How could we forget! It started our war of independence from the Empire and the Aldmeri.”
“It was the year my mother died, she led a guild during the Great War. As the war ended a strange Breton woman came to my father’s house. Lodbrok was a silversmith and we lived near Bruma.”
“How old were you then?”
“10 or 11 I think, what year are we now?”
“It is the 195th year of the Fourth Era.”

“Hmmm almost ten years…” his eyes de-focussed on his audience, “ahh apologies my thoughts wander… I must have been 11, my birthday was earlier in that year. The Breton woman turned up around Mid-Year bearing a note from my mother. We all took it hard but knew the losses from the Battle of the Red Ring were high and so it was not a big surprise. That Modir had left our money to a strange Breton woman, so that she could train and protect us was a big surprise. Fadir wasn’t keen on the idea so this woman, Meara Benirus, originally from Anvil stayed in a local house and set up an Apothecary store.

She used to bake wonderful Honey Fruit and Nut treats which made me stop past her house regularly. As she knew my mother I was curious and Meara used to tell me tales of the Reivers who my Modir led. She also had various wooden swords which she encouraged me to practice with. But mostly she told me of how the Aldmeri Dominion had hated my Modir, Kudri Whitefire, and wanted her death.

Gradually we became friends, it probably helped that she also worshipped Talos so we used to regularly see her at the new Shrine hidden in the Jerall Mountains. I knew that my Modir wanted us to move closer to her Fire clan in Falkreath but Fadir, Lodbrok, was happy and didn’t want to leave. So I grew up in Applewatch with occasional trips to Bruma with Fadir to sell his Silverwares. Meara would train me in basic magicka and sword skills, she respected our Nord ways and ensured there was a focus on the two-handed weapons; sword, hammer and axe.

My sisters listened to Fadir and had little to do with Meara, as they got older I’d have to sneak away from them as they’d tell on me if they saw me. I suppose she became a mother like figure to me really, like an Aunt or something. Of course my Uncle Eirik still stopped past whenever trade took him near Bruma to keep an eye on his Nephew and Nieces, I always liked to see him as he brought great gifts for us. I always felt like Fadir treated me differently to my sisters whilst Eirik always welcomed me like a long lost son.

As I got older I started to help Fadir in his forge, starting with the bellows and then moving onto smithing iron daggers and simple tools like pickaxes, shovels and wood axes. On my 16th birthday Meara took me through her diaries of her time with the Reivers and how the Thalmor killed Modir. I’ve not liked the Altmer since then, although now those haughty Mer are my sworn enemies... ”
Otalo interjected “Well they are also our sworn enemies, after the Treaty of Stros M'kai.”
“...I remember the news coming of the Redguard success. Meara told me.” Beorning took a deep draught of the wine, savouring it with the satisfaction of a man who has had a long thirst with little expectation of sating it.

“Her diaries also explained why Fadir seemed a bit detached from me, when my real father was some mysterious Nord, one of the Emperor’s Blades. Those diaries, their tales of the Reivers, of derring-do and my heroic mother fuelled a restless desire for adventure.” He smiled as if he’d not quite remembered happiness enough to get as far as a laugh.
“I spent much of my days dreaming of being a Blade, with a legendary sword and saving the Emperor,” Beorning swung his two hands as if with this mighty blade and managed a short, barking laugh.
“I was probably a lot of trouble to Fadir around then but he was a patient man and loved me in his way. Our work together in the Forge did create a strong bond between us and he wearily accepted that I was going to see Meara whatever he said or did. Over time he seemed to have mellowed towards Meara too, they were always civil at the Temple to Talos.”

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch3 - Burning Down The House

Beorning was silent, engrossed in the swirling ebony patterns carved and inlaid into the light maple wood of the expensive table, a pained expression writhed across his face like thunderstorms. Just as his audience looked ready to interrupt his flow he mused into the wood
“And so the dark days began,
he looked up, staring into the eyes of the Redguard brothers waiting expectantly across from him, his voice overloud, he began.
“It was not long before my 21st birthday, the winter of 4E 185, that it happened.” His voice dropped to a normal tone.
“Things were going well, I was getting good at smithing fancy jewellery and between Fadir, er Lodbrok, and I we had a good little business running, the Balefire, my Uncle Eirik, had contacts across the Empire that liked our work and our order books were full. The snow had fallen late that year so it was not thick as we walked the short way across the lower parts of the Jerall Mountains north of Applewatch, to our little hidden temple to Talos for the festival of North Wind’s Prayer. I loved that little temple, it was down a hidden gully lined with mountain flowers that led to a front atrium built from carved Skyrim pines, with those steep Nordic roofs and sculpted eaves. It led into the stone part of the temple; part building, part cave. Meara told me that it looked like a Dwemer building had been reused to build it, it was the quality of the stone cutting that gave it away. I was never much of a mason, so could never see what she meant. I could never concentrate on the mason work with that huge stone statue of Talos looking at me. It was painted so that he looked alive, ready to jump off the plinth and take action.

“I found out later it was the tracks, our tracks in the snow that led them, the Thalmor, to it. Hmmm it’s been so long I can barely picture it.” A single tear leaked from his left eye.
“We were all crammed into the temple when our outside guard managed to let out a scream before dying. We didn’t stand a chance! Before we had used two escape tunnels to avoid those rooting out Talos worship, that day we had no time. A unit of steely eyed Thalmor and Frost Atronachs came through the doorway. Meara was the first to react. As a priestess to Talos, she was leading the North Wind’s Prayer ritual and so facing the doorway. She threw her sword at me shouting
“Grab your sister’s and run..” as an arrow hit swung her round. In her priestess garb she had no armour but used her staff to cast shocks at the incoming attackers.
I did as she said, sword in one hand Agneta’s hand in the other, Astrid held her elder sisters hand and we ran to the left hand hidden tunnel behind the statue to Talos. The stairs ran up to a hidden exit on a bluff, between two juniper trees a secret path led out to the Bruma road. I pushed my sisters telling them in a hushed voice to carry onto the stair top and to wait for me. I then turned to cover the entrance and defend us from anyone who had spotted our escape. From this hidden position I could see Lodbrok struggling with two Thalmor warriors, three of the other five members of the congregation, our neighbour Jennetta and her son as well as old Master Thingold were dead already. It didn’t look good and I was torn between saving my sisters or helping my father and Meara. The moment seemed an age but was probably seconds before father went down, it was just two of them left, the unarmoured Meara and the Nord farmer…” Beornings eyes de-focussed, “what’s his name… no matter…”

”I ran up the stairs, decision made. I heard later that Meara and the other deserved their seat at Talos' table by the time those stinking, haughty Thalmor got ‘em. As I left the stairs onto the bluff I looked towards Applewatch and home. Great clouds of billowing smoke created a vertical line reaching for the sky. I grabbed my sisters and we sneaked our way to the Bruma road. We had to hurry as I couldn’t be sure if or when the hidden path would be discovered. My sisters were crying, I tried to shut them up but it wasn’t working. So I rushed them, my arms wrapped around them to console and also hurry them along. It was Agneta mostly, she had always been the most sensitive of my sisters, I remember blowing her nose and wiping her eyes with that pale red dress she loved so much. Astrid had more of my mother’s temperament, she sobbed but kept composed, probably shocked too I suppose. When we stopped for a breather at the Bruma road I gave her a big hug, stroking her long black double braided hair and then we all clung to each other. Huge sobs billowing through us. Eventually I pushed them back and looked into their blue-grey eyes.
"Well we can’t go home, we saw the smoke from Applewatch. I can bet that our house is amongst those burning down, those bad Thalmor will be looking for us." They nodded, "We’ll have to avoid Bruma too, I think." Two more little nods, "Agnita, Astrid we’re going to have to find Uncle Eirik, he should be coming over from Skyrim before the winter snows close the roads." The first glimmer of hope showed in their eyes. "I know a cave we can hide in near Bruma, it’s the other side of Bruma where we can see the road to Skyrim and look for Great Uncle Balefire ok?"
They nodded silently, too overcome to argue.

I was tired when we got to the cave, I’d been carrying them for a while but I hid the girls outside, made a torch from some wood and rags I’d found and entered in.” Beorning snorted in self derision. “My first adventuring! Scared witless with just a sword at my side. Fortunately there was just a couple of Skeevers in there, which I despatched quite quickly and without any bites. We gathered wood from the cave entrance for a fire, used the fat from the Skeevers with some dried sedge grasses wrapped around a branch for another torch. With the fire I could roast the meat from those over-sized rats. My sister’s weren’t happy to be eating Skeever but then nor was I. We spent a restless night huddled together at the edge of the cave. My sisters tossed and turned but kids seem able to sleep anywhere. I was too nervous about other beasts, Thalmor or evil Men catching us unaware so I kept watch. The night was clear and as I kept lookout the twin moons, Masser and Secunda, rose magnificently giving hope for the new day. Grey clouds had closed in by sunrise as with bleary eyes I kept watch. Fortunately it wasn’t too long, later that day I saw Uncle Eirik’s merchant caravan travelling along the road. Really he was my mother’s Uncle but everyone in the family called him Uncle, we scrambled down from our hideout and ran to our Uncle.

It was good to see the Balefire, he looked a little more craggy than I remembered with a lot more snow in his hair but his Mountain Flower blue eyes and wide, welcoming smile remained the same. He climbed down from the lead wagon, scooping my sisters up in his arms.
"My two favourite nieces, still as beautiful as those dark roses of Elsweyr."
Astrid smiled and wriggled, "We're your only great nieces Uncle!"
Eirik's voice took on a serious note, he nodded at me "Beorning! What brings you and your sisters here? I'm guessing it's not good news."
My voice cracked as I told him "The Thalmor caught us for North Wind's Prayer, Fadir's dead...they're all dead. Applewatch is in flames."
Eirik changed to the Balefire in seconds, he put my sisters down and pushed them to me. He turned round to his caravan, barking orders, gathering people into his plan. In minutes the wagons were off to the the side of the road in a circular formation. The guards placed at regular intervals covering all points of the compass. A fire was lit and a large broth was being cooked by the time he came back to us with his right hand woman, a Dunmer called Talinith, covered in a strange mix of Chitin and Nord armour.

"Right. Beorning, Agneta and Astrid what are we going to do with you?"
Talinith barked a harsh laugh, almost a cough, "We'll not be going to Bruma with them."
"True, but we'll still be going to Bruma. It will look odd otherwise, indeed..." he nodded, half to himself, "that's decided then. Beorning you're too big and ugly", he waved a hand silencing my retort "to travel with us. Sorry lad but your life has changed and you are now an outlaw. Talinith get him some armour, use that taken from the guard caught by those Ice Wraiths out by Markarth. They should fit. Then I need you to stay with him for a couple of days, but where to conceal you?"
I quickly told Uncle about the cave we'd hid in "Ok that's good" he replied. "Talinith teach him as much as you can, we should be gone no more than a week. Beorning when I get back I'll take you to some Outlaw friends of mine."
He grinned as my eyes widened in a mix of excitement, fear and concern "Don't worry they're Outlaws like all good Talos worshippers but not Brigands or Bandits... unless you're from the Aldmeri Dominion!" He winked and grinned, slapping me round the shoulders "We're Nords, strong people from a dangerous land. Life has dealt some hard knocks sister’s-daughter’s-son but look around you, look at this land, this life. Whilst you're alive never give up, never surrender to what the Daedra might throw at you. You're a NORD boy and you'll fight every step of the way to Sovngarde!"

Eirik's face softened as he scooped up my sisters "And you, my two beauties, need to grow up safely and with family I think. I have a plan for you two."
"What is it? What is it?" Wriggled the two girls, caught up in Eirik's infectious bullishness.
"Have I ever told you about my niece Biorki Goldfire? Mad as a sackful of Skeevers but she's smart and wise as well, she runs an apparel stall in Daggerfall and could do with a couple of young apprentices... yes that's what you'll be." his voice dropped to the half tone he used when musing to himself "Apprentice seamstresses, I'm sure that Biorki...she's best placed to protect Kudri's kids... especially with her Illusion skills."
He turned and became Master Balefire Merchant of Tamriel "So that's decided then. Talinith take Beorning and gather enough supplies to last you at least a week. Mistress Agneta and Mistress Astrid" the girls stood proudly as he used their adult honorific "come with me. We need to cut and dye your hair then change your clothes to match a couple of poor apprentice girls," he pulled the face of a wealthy patron concerned about those poorer than himself "entrusted to travel with the famed caravan of Master Balefire, Merchant of Tamriel," he took a proud, responsible stance "by your family in Solstheim, who have agreed for you to learn a trade working for the East Empire Company in Camlorn."
"But you said we were going to Cousin Biorki in Daggerfall?" chimed in Agneta
"Well we're not going to tell the world that Little Agneta! Are we now?" and with that rhetorical question Eirik strode away. Talinith nodded at me and we set about our tasks.

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch4 - Psycho Killer

Talinith found a heavy Orcish helm, typical Nord body armour along with some fur boots and leather bracers "Yan was a fool who liked to hunt, he went after a fox and caught a cold of Ice Wraiths." Talinith's grim humour was dismissive of the dead guard "Don't be a fool in a dead fool's armour!" she told me as she tightened the cinches to my body armour. It took us less than an hour to gather our supplies into several sacks and by that time my sisters had been transformed into short haired, blonde urchins in grubby grey smocks. I gave them a big hug, told them I'd see them soon and to be good for Uncle Eirik, then we said our goodbyes.

Beorning's grey-blue eyes turned watery with grief as he looked at his audience, Otalo and Timo, "That was the last time I saw them...." Otalo and Timo quietly gave murmurings of support and consolation whilst Beorning took a deep draught of watered wine.

Those days in the cave with Talinith were hard, very hard she said the Dunmer are a hard people from a hard land, made harder after the eruption of the Red Mountain. Each day comprised of exercise, weapons and armour training followed by theory and armour crafting discussions, the evening was wood gathering and hunting. Each night we took turns to keep watch and keep the fire burning. I was suddenly living a wilderness life far removed from my life of peace in Applewatch. The days started to blur and the shock of becoming an orphan, losing my home and living an outlaw life was being to settle in. Our staples were running low by the time Uncle Eirik came back some ten days later. After our greetings he said my sisters were safely hidden in Elinhir, Hammerfell with his Caravan. He'd come back for Talinith and to introduce me to the Talons, his outlaw contacts, and that he was late because he had to use the backpaths to avoid being spotted without his Caravan.

After a last night in the cave we had a big breakfast and left as the sun rose above the Jerall mountains. We skirted north of Bruma and headed to the western end of the Jerall mountains, where they bordered the Colovian Highlands. It was the borderland between Cyrodiil, Skyrim and Hammerfell and a narrow path led into the mountains to a place called Talon's Tower. It was an old structure from the time of the Reman Empire, partially ruined and overgrown. As Talinith, Eirik and I approached the tower, we heard a gong and two large people walked out of the tower entrance
"Valkrim, your health you old scoundrel I bring a recruit for you."
"Eirik? You thieving old merchant what junk are you trying to sell me today?"
The two old men did the armclasp in greeting, using their other hand to thump each other's back. The large Orc visibly relaxed and then Valkirm looked me up and down curiously after a hasty whispered conversation with Eirik "Yes, I can see it in his hair and the shape of his face..." then louder
"so YOU are The Whitefire's son eh? I ran with the Reivers, during the Great War. She was a great leader. If you have an ounce of her bravery then" and he paused for effect "You are welcome to the empire of the Talons" as he spread his arms to embrace the small valley and the tower. He and the Orc laughed "Some empire eh?"
Eirik broke into the conversation, "Beorning I cannot wait here, I must get back to your sisters before I am missed. Farewell Sister's-daughter's-son, the Talons are a good group and Valkrim here's been on the run from the Thalmor ever since the White-Gold Concordat was signed and he's not been caught yet!"

As they turned to go I heard Talinith yell "Happy hunting boy, you've been a good pupil! Just remember don't be a fox hunting fool."
Beorning turned to his Redguard audience, "It's strange telling the story, remembering these events is what I used to keep myself sane during my long years in the pit."

Beorning watched the two of them go, the last person he'd known throughout his life was walking down the valley and would soon turn a corner and leave him. He felt alone in a world of strangers. Valkrim gave him a steady look
"Beorning you're here because you were caught in a temple to Talos?"
"Yes, they killed my father and my friend, the priestess, Meara"
"Meara... was that Meara Benirus? Was she in the Reivers?"
"That's her, mother asked her to keep an eye on us, her kids, before she died. She died fighting the Thalmor to give us time to escape. We were ambushed in our private Temple."
Valkrim looked sharply at me "Did she do more than just keep an eye out?"
"Yes sir, she taught me the basics with a sword, basic healing and a fire spell with a little bit of Alchemy. She was an Alchemist.."
"She was much more than that!"
"Well that's what she did in Applewatch before the Dominion burnt it."
"Ok good, good and I see you have a sword and some armour. Golnak this, as you may have gathered, is Beorning Wildfire who's come to join our band of Talos supporters commonly known as the Talons. Find him a bed and introduce him to the others. Do you like that pig-sticker boy?" He was looking at my iron longsword "Or do you want a man's weapon?" he pulled out a Nordic Greatsword.
I grinned back, it was what Meara had started teaching me once my hands got big enough to grasp the hilt. She said it was what my mother would have wanted "One of those, please"
Golnak grunted approval, "And find him a good two-hander Golnak. I'm going to let Marcel know we have a new recruit and he shouldn't stick him full of arrows if he sees him wandering about."

The tower had looked broken from a distance. As we approached it this impression continued as we entered the ground floor, there were rotten carpets and splintered furniture there. I was wondering just where this camp was, Golnak strode over to a dark corner at the back of the tower and lifted a hidden trapdoor. I followed him through; it opened into an Oubliette containing a main square room filled with a couple of benches, a table laded with food, a fireplace with a cooking pot plus several chairs. Hanging off the walls there were a few good looking tapestries, one of Tiber Septim at the Battle of Sancre Tor, plenty of weapons and a couple of shields. The place looked well kept and tidy. As Golnak strode over to a weapon laden wall I could see two doors led out of this room, there was a corner of a bed through one of the doors. The other door was shut. With a metal clang Golnak had pulled a steel greatsword off the wall and thrust it, hilt first, at me. I grasped it, stepped back and swung it in a few basic moves.

”I can’t wait to stick it in some of those Thalmorian eel skins.”
“I like that psyched, crazy glint in your eyes Beorning, it reminds me of Orsimer battle rage.”

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch5 - Girlfriend is Better

Otalo broke some bread, Beorning looked at Otalo and Timo "So yes I was an outlaw, a bandit but we only ever robbed Altmer, Khajit and  Bosmer although there were precious few of those man eaters up in the Jeralls.   Did you ever hear of us?  The Talons?"
Timo and Otalo shook their heads "We were too busy fighting our own battles, we heard there were rogue groups of Talos worshippers in the Empire, but paid no attention really."
"It's funny I suppose, all this trouble from Talos and yet I always favoured Kynareth, like my mother.  Every chance I got I would visit her  
shrines, although it was rare enough when we dropped out of the mountains into a town for supplies.  I fell into the pattern of life with the Talons, every third day was my turn to be Lookout, usually with either Golnak or Yulie.   If we spotted someone or a caravan we'd signal the alarm.  The others would come.  If they were men, or women, then we'd look at their wealth and usually demand a couple of gold pieces, per Talon, as a donation to the support of Talos.  Poor people we usually just let pass, really poor people we'd give them a hearty meal and send them on their way."
"Mer on the other hand, well apart from Orsimer, we robbed.  Altmer and Bosmer we often killed, there were a number of traders we could sell the loot to.  Marcel even had contacts in the Thieves Guild for rarer items.    This way we kept well fed but without upsetting too many locals, particularly those Nordic Jarls in Skyrim.   Most Nords we stopped were glad to supplement our cause, especially after a couple of stories about us killing Thalmor scout parties.  Yulie was a fine Bard, she'd even trained at the Bards College in Solitude so some Nords tried to find us just for the songs.   But those Thalmor scout parties made us move every few days, always around the Jerall Mountains and near to one of the main trade routes between Skyrim, Cyrodiil and Hammerfell.   We had to move to stop the Dominion being able to hit us en-masse.   When a Thalmor raid did turn up too big for the nine of us to handle we'd hot foot it, using secret footpaths, into Hammerfell and lay low for a few days.  The Crown Prince of Elinhir didn't like us raiding whilst he was 'hosting us' in case it started another war with the Dominion."
Beorning snorted, "Then there were the adventurers... poor sods most of them.  Solitary or with a follower, we had traps set up.  We'd imprison them in a dead end ravine with a single narrow footpath out, Rumi would act as bait due to his high speed with both feet and curved sword.   At the end Rumi and Valkrim would block the footpath.  Once trapped men would have a chance to buy their freedom, for mer we'd use range attacks to take them down from a distance.  One or two against a disciplined, organised nine is just not good odds."
Otalo laughed "Well it was for you!"
"Then there was this day, hmm it must've been Second Seed as I remember the blossoms where we'd attacked an Altmer merchant caravan it was not unusual and we were looting the bodies when, nearby we saw a group of women with not a man among them, riding by a river.  There were beautiful, no, no don't laugh... there was this Orc Maiden... stop it... riding in the company of the host.   They completely ignored us" 
"No surprise..." laughed Timo
"and the carnage of the caravan, they just kept on riding.   Golnak was particularly keen on following them but Valkrim told us to clear the 
bodies, honour the Aedra and burn them on the wagon.  It took a few hours, always a messy job, so it was sundown by the time we headed back to our camp.   We were marching through the Juniper trees, crossing various streams when we saw an old Orc, a vagabond knight, walking towards us.   Golnak hailed him with the usual Orsimer greeting 
"I am Sir Orfeck gro-Oluash seaching for my girlfriend, the wife promised to me ten years ago. The length and breadth of Tamriel, damn the Daedra!   I 
am an Orc, bare earth for a bed, berries for supper and bark for breakfast is no hardship but no wife and no forge wife, hah."
We offered him bread and some cooked venision steak in return for his story.
"It was ten years ago that my promised bride, Lashakh Lashakh Gra-Lurgbakh...
Golnak cut it "The granddaughter of King Gortwog gro Orsinimum?"
"Yes, the beautiful daughter of Queen Urzoar.   She fell asleep under the flowering Ymper trees in the gardens of the Orimer Palace but when she awoke she was inconsolable but would tell no one why.  I was one of the Knights called to restrain her, a proper Forge wife and strong she was.  She eventually told us that Boethiah,  Prince of Daedra, Mauloch curse himm had visited her.   He'd claimed her as his and that he would claim her the next day.   Immediately after telling us she fell into a deep sleep.
All through the night we consulted with Queen Urzoar and promised we'd be by Lashakh's side to protect her with our lives.  Two of our shield maidens slept with her all night.   At midday Lashakh awoke, but in a trance and walked back to the same tree, followed by us knights and her shield maidens.  We daren't stop her, when she got to the tree she lay down and then fell back to sleep.     We formed a circle, nervously around her.  No one saw her vanish but vanish she did.  No one came or went but Lashakh had gone.  At that moment I walked out of Orsinium to find her.   The road has been hard, with no end in sight."
Beorning continued "And so our adventure began as Golnak mentioned the ladies we'd seen earlier.   Sir Orfeck became very excited and persuaded Golnak, who then persuaded me, to take him back to the place and see if we could find them.   So we camped and went back to the burnt caravan to watch.  At the same time these Ladies appeared all on horseback riding in a line again, we saw them and followed at a distance until they came to a cliff-face and just rode straight into it!     When we got close we saw it was a false cliff wall that curtained an Oblivion gate shimmering round the edge, behind the roack wall.    I looked at Golnak but the two Orcs just went straight through, without fear or hesitation.
"We emerged into a kingdom of Oblivion, a flat expanse of red, black rocky countryside presided over by a magnificent castle, built from darkly angular ebony, with searing jasper merlons and soaring crystal towers.   A monstrous Xivilai was the gatekeeper and he took some chopping to bring down, the three of us did it in short order.  We ran into the huge courtyard but when we got inside  lying inside these castle walls, were people who had been thought to be dead, but who were not.    Some were headless, others seem to have been drowned or burned.  Amongst the bodies Orfeck suddently saw his girlfriend Lashakh, asleep again.   He sprinted forward before Golnak and I could grab him, as he was running towards her Boethiah appeared before us....
Boethiah "You reckless adventurers have dared to enter my kingdom?   Uninvited?"
Orfeck "You have detained my bride-to-be, uninvited!"
Boethiah "I have offered her immortality as one of my brides."
Orfeck "Immortal sleep, it seems, with occasional dreams."
Boethiah "You criticise me?  A child of Mauloch?"
Orfeck "Malacath is my Aedra, Daedric liar."
Boethiah "Hmm I see you have his favour,  perhaps a wager?"
Orfeck "My price is our return to Nirn, with my girlfriend all better!"
Boethiah "Agreed, my price is your eternal servitude.  You must defeat all here to win...."
At which these Dread Zombies started to move, all except Lashakh who remained in deep sleep.  Joining the Zombies came the Xivilavi guard.   
Orfeck stepped back, Golnak stepped to his left and I to his right.  Orfeck had a great hammer, Golnak a two handed Axe and I my Greatsword.   Step by step we retreated to the curtain wall and took our stand.  There was no sun with which to measure time, our weapons swung in desperate pendulums; smashing flesh, crushing bones, severing limbs.  The zombies and Daedra seemed innumerable.  After the first age our breathing was ragged, yet still they came.  After the second age our muscles trembled as we climbed on top of the pile of bodies and after what seemed an interminable epoch everything was exhausted.  Our feet slipped in the gore, each strike seemed to be the last we could muster until the next blow was needed and in our minds there was a weariness of pain.    The mind numbing effort continued sweep, block, hack, slash until, finally, we could see the last of our enemies and a surge of survival ardour swept like a spring tide through our weary bodies.   At the final Zombie death Sir Orfeck ran to his waking girlfriend and they clung together as lovers do.
Boethiah "That sword price was worth the wager!  Begone until our next time...."
We dropped, as if from a high cliff, when the world of Oblivion disappeared.  Appearing behind the curtain stone, facing an anonymous blank cliff high in the Jerall Mountains.
Beorning looked at his audience "Golnak and I bid the twain goodbye, returning to The Talons and a fine berating from Valkrim for our adventure, Uller could not believe that we gained nothing from the encounter.  Marcel and Yulie, however, thought it was a fine and romantic tale that should be told and set to writing a ballad.  A later bard told us a fine tale about their return, Sir Orfeck's disguise as a beggar, how the good and the bad of his household treated him and culminating in the wedding of the two."
Timo clapped his hands "Indeed I have heard those ballads of Sir Orfeck and his bride Lashakh, but thought them some of those fancy Breton tales.  Yet you are telling me they are true!  Hah, I knew there was more than fate in our meeting."

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch6 - Take Me to the River

Take Me To the River

Otalo asked "Are there more tales of the Talons that you have?"
"None like that, the only story left of my time with the Talons is the finale, our denouement if you will. I am guessing that the Empire does not worship Talos anymore?"
Otalo and Timo shook their heads.

"Well it will be no surprise then that the Talons ended bloodily!   The Dominion was not overthrown and Talos worship was not restored, but" more quietly "I survived" and then a laugh "I have survived!"
It was early in 188 and the winter had been a harsh one, there had been many Ice Wraiths and Frost Trolls to deal with.  Pickings had been, unsurprisingly, lean with few Mer travellers to plague.   We'd been able to hunt and survive on the food we'd stored but had not moved as much as, I can now see, we should have.  We'd become arrogant, expecting the Thalmor to hide from the freezing storms like we had.   This meant our guards were casual, after weeks of not seeing a soul we'd not expected to see anyone.  On the whole we spent our time round the fire, all sat in the main room of the cave house.  We'd work on various craft's through the days but we became incautious.   We'd talk about how the all the Mer people's now lived in the warm south and that only Snow Elves could catch us."

"Fools we were!  The Thalmor had petitioned the Emperor for support, grudgingly I suspect, he provided troops.  They'd also bribed the Crown Prince of Elinhir, or so we heard when one of our supporters from Falkreath managed to get word to us.  The Emperor had forbid the Jarls of Skyrim from helping us too, they grumbled but obeyed.  Of course by the time Uller had come back from Falkreath with the messages it was too late, the noose tightened the evening of her return.   I guess they were waiting for her return so that we could all be in their net.

"I remember it must have been a few hours after dawn when Uller returned, the doors blasting open with a flurry of snow following her.  She was shouting and looked tired, like she'd run a long way.  We were sat on various stools and chairs around the fire.  Yulie, Eilar and Golnak were playing knucklebones around a table, unsurprisinly all of our clothes and equipment were in a very good state of repair.   That was all we'd had to do for weeks.  When she flew through the door we all looked at her in stunned surprise.  "Hey Uller what's the hurry?"  said Marcel.

Uller was angry and banged a blast of fire into the ground, she shouted with her battle-cry voice.  "You fools are in here with no guard!   Shor's bones you idiots!   TALONS SCRAM!!  The Dominion is here.

That got us scrambling over one another for armour, weapons.  Valkrim took charge quickly ordering Golnak and me to gaurd the door whilst the rest armoured up.   We then swapped with Murcel and Yulie to armour up ourselves.
Valkrim peeked round the door "I can't see them Uller."
"They're coming!"
"How do you know?"
She raised her hand and started closing her fingers: "Firstly, I sneaked past them in the night.  A large unit of Thalmor with Mer adventurers, bastards!  Secondly I was in the Dead Man's Drink when I overheard two of the Thegn's talking about how Jarl Dengeir had been forced to keep the peace and allow the Thalmor free reign to hunt us.    I was about to take my leave of Isobel when a courier came through the door and came straight to me, he gave me a note that said  'Beware; the AD Bell Tolls and the Crown paid - you have no safe harbour to hide.  Run and save the Eagle's foot.'   I have run straight from there to here, on my way out of Falkreath I spotted the Thalmor massing in the valley.
Valkrim's brow furrowed "So we can not run to the Prince of Elinhir as usual, nor will the Jarls help...

"THEY ARE COMING UP THE VALLEY" Yulie interjected "The Legions are with them too.  Looks like Emperor Mede needs to keep the peace and we're the prize."

Valkrim returned "Yulie, Marcel shut and bolt the door.  Use all of your magickal might to put seals on the doors.   The rest of you to the escape gulley."

"I arrived just as Rumi and Omari were lifting the metal grate over the stream into the gulley, our escape route out of the side of the cave.   I did a quick wriggle down the gulley and then a dive into a plunge pool.  It was a narrow squeeze following the stream through the first passage in the cave before opening up with a vertical cave flooding light down.  The Talons re-grouped there, in the light with the odd flake of snow drifting down through the ferns.   All of us made it down.

Valkrim looked around, we could tell he was warming up for one of his speeches.  "Well, my family of Talons, it looks like we're come to an end.  We've been out-manouevered, the numbers of Imperial and Dominion troops out there leaves no choice but to break up this band of banditry.  I suggest we split up, no more than two to a group, and escape.  May Talos guide and protect you, my battle-friends."   A tear appeared to well up but was brutally quelled "And if you get caught kill as many as you can.  There'll be no mercy for us!"
It was a subdued end to our minor rebellion for Talos.   

We shook hands and discussed directions.  Rumi and Omari were going to head back into Hammerfell.  Golnak and I both chose to go it alone, Golnak to head North whilst I thought to head back to Applewatch and take it from there.  Uller and Yulie decided to go together and escape to the southlands of Cyrodiil while the rest just said goodbye with no mention of their plans.  The girls started climbing the cave just as I slipped back into the stream, to swim and crawl downstream through the rest of the cave until I could get to the river.  There were some terrible moments... have you ever tried swimming in heavy armour?"
Otalo and Timo shook their heads "That is foolish."
"Yes but things were desperate, luckily it became shallow enough for me to stand just before I drowned!   The stream came out above the river in a waterfall.  On a summer's day you'd admire the beauty of the river, the waterfall and the spray but icy melt water is freezing, even for a Nord like me.   I had to wait for hours there to make sure no one was watching, I saw occasional groups of Legionnaires marching up and down the river bank.   At one point, braced and hidden against the cave walls of the stream I thought I heard the sounds of battle floating down the canyon.  During those hours I was expecting at some point our hunters to find my hiding place.  Nervously I kept some of my attention the way I came, ready to swing my Greatsword on Thalmor searchers.  I imagined my final battle here, silhouetted on the edge of the woth sunlight and spray around us.   It was I thought not a bad place to die, the view into the Jerall Mountains, the sunlight and a lonely cave with a desperate warrior and his two handed blade.
No one came.

"It was dusk before I made the leap, praying to Kynareth that the river was deep and I'd not break my legs.  Luckily it was deep enough, I scrambled down the river and spent the next hour moving carefully from one Juniper covered rock to the next.  Eventuallyl I came to a bridge on the road from Cyrodiil to Skyrim.   By this time I was cold and hungry, I couldn't stay in the river for ever but the guards on the bridge were alert and showed no signs of leaving.  I had to break cover and chose to sneak out onto the bank well above the river it was at that point that two Ice Wraiths came and attacked me, I was forced to use magical flames to hit them in between sword strokes.  Which gave away my position, the guards came and helped despatch the Ice Wraiths.  It was once they were dead the trouble started.  The captain used his torch to light my face
"Halt, stop right there criminal scum."
I was captured, I couldn't face killing Imperial Guardsmen who had helped me.

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch7- Road to Nowhere

The chains jangled as the big Nord walked, wearing ragged breeks and shirt, the noise emanated from his hands clasped before him. His height matched the slimmer, armoured soldiers around him in golden bronze armour forged in an eagled style. Their large eyes, height and slim, strong figures defined them as Altmer. A race known for their arrogance but the iron straight back and raised head of the Nord suggested a similar pride. The crowd gathered outside of the roadside Inn looking at him with a mix of curiosity, pity and in a few embarrassed sympathy as if they wanted to do something about his situation but could not.

Beorning shook the memory away, took a large glug of wine and returned to his audience.

"My memory fails for much of the next few years. The day after capture I was handed over to the Thalmor, I was surprised not to be summarily executed but they just shackled me and marched south through the Nibenay valley. The days and events of my confinement blur into one. I do remember using the memory of my mother to march proudly down through Cyrodill, I held onto the view that the Thalmor were just my honour guard and despite their bullying, beatings and berating I managed to hold onto that. Especially through the villages with their mix of people. How many days does it take to walk from the Jerall Mountains down to Bravil?

Just south of Bravil I was led onto one of the Aldmeri Dominion ships and handed over to a Thalmor Justiciar, I can't remember his name even though I swore I'd take revenge on him. Every day on that ship was a day when he could think up some new, degrading punishment for the 'Talos heretic'. Clothes were taken from me, I was forced to scrub the decks in the heat of the sun until my skin was so burnt and cracked I could barely move. My skin wept in a way that I could not. Once my skin was cracked the crew would dangle me into the sea to see if the salt could force another pained groan from me, they'd take bets on what things would force a scream from my lips. Bastinadoes one day, acid dropped into open wounds on another, those days of pain were interminable.

Soon enough the heart was taken from me once aboard that ship, the uncomfortable constant beating of the ship on the sea was too alien for a mountain man like myself. I couldn't eat from sea sickness and I couldn't sleep either, without food or rest I quickly became a shell, my hair was ragged and salt laden. The isolation of being something hated and despised by the crew whilst utterly under their control snapped any vestige of pride I'd maintained through Cyrodiil. I shut down, my spirit crept inside some dark hollow of myself and I became more like a tortured beast than a man. The only slight respite was the vituperation that Justicier received when we tied up in the dock. The Aldmeri he handed me over to gave a very harsh criticism of the state I'd been pushed to. I had brief fantasies that my tortures were over, particularly when I received a good meal on dry land.

Then I was in the back of a cart, shackled hand and foot. I gathered that I'd been taken to Summerset Isle and handed over to a Sorceror high in the councils of the Thalmor. Started off nice with food and a decent bed, trying to get my trust I assumed. The daily petty torture stopped and an interrogation began. It started after a great meal with wine, was followed by friendly queries around other Talos worshippers, particularly of any important Imperial ones. I didn't have any answers so those questions soon stopped. They kept returning to a word, Do-vak-in or something, which I'd never heard of before. They spent hours on that word and other similar to it, it always sounded like they shouted them. Suddently the softly approach stopped and they tried various angry verbal arguments. When those produced no answers it moved onto physical tortures, nothing to maim or destroy me but the pain... indescribably incandescent is my best description. A wand would touch me and the pain would move like a lagging lightning up the limb touched, until it would burst into my brain like an exploding ball and I'd pass out. They'd tell me they could stop the pain at any time if I'd just tell them about this Dovakin thing. I couldn't, they wouldn't and I'd wake up in my cell covered in my own waste.

Some time later, a day maybe, they'd sluice my filth from me with buckets of water and start again. This went on for weeks. It appears they couldn't stand the smell of me either. I had sores by then from uncleanliness and the chafing of the chains, I don't think I cared and I think I'd stopped eating and drinking. I was just hoping to die. The questions changed, there was a lot more about my family: my mother, my father and my sisters. I answered, they seemed very interested in my father and knew that he was not my biological father. This was important to them I think, I didn't know why though. They still wouldn't let me die. Whenever I got close they'd wash me, heal me and feed me up. Despite my weak protestations. Then I'd go back to my cell deep in the bowels of these strange Altmer buildings that seemed almost to have been grown rather than built. Beorning looked around, not like this place. Give me solid stone and wood any day.

I don't know if this period lasted months or more. Eventually they gave up on the torture but still didn't kill me. They just shackled me in the cell and every once in a while the Sorceror would come and take blood from me. I guess for some potions or experiments but never knew why they wanted my blood or what for, as a Man I think they considered me some sort of beast and never spoke to me. I became resigned to this life, I ate the rough rations and drank the water and existed somehow down in this cell.

I think I lost my mind or myself somewhere during this time, at some point they infected me with something, a disease or a poison, and the guards laughed that now I'd never get to Sovngarde. That was when the nightmares began, always about vague and violent hunts where I'd savour the taste of raw meat. These seemed to come regularly but I couldn't tell if there was a pattern or not. In the constant dark you lose track of day and night, winter and summer, Masser and Secunda.

I also remember there were recurring dreams where a beautiful dark haired woman in light blue robes would come, lay hands on my forehead and tell me to just stay alive. Never anything more than that and I don't know when they started, but they'd been around much longer than the nightmares. Maybe they'd started soon after I arrived. I couldn't tell you but I know when they ended. It was a few nights before I met you Timo.

Beorning Saga pt3 - Ch8 - Wild Wild Life

She came that night, the vision began as normal with me wandering through a northern landscape of Juniper. I was lost and alone, scrambling over rocks trying to escape a series of dead end gullies. I was frantic in a fevered but frustrated search. The rocks were interminable and inescapable I could see as reached the top of another gully. In the middle distance at the centre of a ravine she stood, with a large white bird balancing on her left arm whilst her right arm beckoned me. I approached and she blessed me and laid her marble smooth palm on my forehead. It was cool and clarity of thought returned, I knew in my dream that I was in a dream.
Then she spoke "Beorning it is time to prepare yourself to leave this cell. You've done well staying alive as I asked. A ghostly man will appear to you, you will be awake and he is real. Listen to him. Follow his directions! Hear me Beorning!"

I awoke to look at the dark, seeing, hearing and feeling no thing in the black of my cell. I blinked a few times and thought of the dream and turned to try and go back to sleep. Even the frustration of the dream was better than the reality of the cell. Beyond my eyelids a light... I opened my eyes to see a ghostly apparition of a man, a scholar or sorcerer by the looks of him and I stared. It was the first man shape I'd seen in an age. "Hello Dohvahkin I am from the island Artaeum, the Psijic Order, have you heard of us?"
He carried on before I could answer "It is time for you to leave here, I will get you out but then you are on your own. Nod if you understand. Good!" He put his finger to his lips "I do not have time for any questions." With that this mysterious wizard started an arcane motion. Starting at his head, moving to his arms. A complicated swirling motion that ended with his hands splayed outwards with a vigorous push.

And with that I felt air, fresh salt laden air. A breeze coming from the corner of my cell. The apparation pointed towards the breeze and pushed me towards it. I could feel a large hole, big enough for me to fit into. I could feel a tunnel and wriggled into it. At my fighting weight I would never have fit in but now my hollow frame fit easily. The tunnel was round and smooth as though some giant underground creature had burrowed it, it sloped downward and I slid easily down. My speed picked up, faster and faster I slid until I couldn't halt my headlong rush without friction burning my thin skin.

Suddenly I shot out into nothing. I was outside, there was light and I was too shocked to scream. I fell vertically and splashed into water whilst my eyes were adjusting to the light. I surfaced, it was salt water... the sea. I bobbed on the surface blinking my eyes to adjust them. As they adjusted I could tell it was just dawn, there was a cliff behind me and a building on top. Nearby I could see something floating and I swam towards it, with a couple of weak strokes I reached a hand onto a tree trunk and hauled myself onto it. Lying down I straddled it and began to paddle away from the cliff and that land of Summerisle. I kept paddling until exhaustion hit me, the heat of the sun, the lack of food and water and the rocking of the waves meant I just held onto the tree.

Beorning stood up and looked at his saviours. In a formal manner he bowed saying "Beorning Wildfire and his kindred are at the service of you and yours through this life and the next." He offered his arm in the armclasp of an oath taken.

Epilogue

From then on Beorning worked on Otalo's farm and kept himself hidden, if he had to go to market he'd wear a full headscarf with his hair trimmed in the Redgaurd fashion, but his grey blue eyes betrayed his Redguard disguise. During this time he and Otalo became great friends. Over time the Wildfire's former strength and bulk returned, his beard and hair grew but after his experiences on Summerisle it grew back grey not with it's former chestnut brown colour. Timo and Otalo trained him in use of the famous Redguard curved swords, the sun had tanned his skin deeply.

During Frostfall of 4E200 rumours came to the farm of strange Altmer travellers behaving suspiciously, Otalo and Beorning headed out to investigate. They found the Altmer camp, sneakily crept up and listened to their discussion.... soon discovering they were definitely Aldmeri Dominion spies searching for something of importance to the Thalmor. When they heard the word Dovakiin that was enough, they crept away.

Beorning and Otalo talked long into the night, they agreed that Beorning must leave. The discussion then went around where he could go. Taking ship with Timo was one, but that would risk Timo and his ship. A return to Cyrodiil was the second, but the Imperial agreement with the Aldmeri Dominion would leave Beorning at risk. The only other option was to go back to his mother's homeland of Skyrim where Beorning would investigate the Stormcloaks. On a day late in Hearthfire Beorning took a pack, a sword and some leather armour and after a day's feasting with Otalo and his family he left the farm and strode northwards towards Falkreath into the land of cold and snow.