{"id":2601,"date":"2023-08-20T13:03:19","date_gmt":"2023-08-20T19:03:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/?page_id=2601"},"modified":"2023-08-28T15:00:33","modified_gmt":"2023-08-28T21:00:33","slug":"chapter-7-harald","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/volume-3\/part-i-horizons\/chapter-7-harald\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 7 – Harald"},"content":{"rendered":"
Home<\/a><\/div>\n
Previous<\/a> \/ Next<\/a><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Harald trudged out Markarth\u2019s gates and down the stone stairway. It had been a good choice to spend the evening at the Silver-Blood Inn, even if the drinks had been watered and the stone bed made not a bit softer by the thinnest of coverings. Still, he felt a bit more human albeit much more concerned. He\u2019d kept an ear open and had overheard more rumors of trouble to the west. Shipments across the border were being waylaid and people killed, and there was talk of some kind of plague. It wasn\u2019t the first time he\u2019d heard these things, but it was<\/em> the first time he\u2019d heard them since becoming personally acquainted with the Forsworn in Cidhna Mine. Now, he wasn\u2019t sure what he should do.<\/p>\n

What do I do? Do I go back home and report in to Father? Confide in Dardeh and Roggi? Go south and see whether Qara will forgive me for being a tongue-tied idiot? I feel useless. And there may still be people out to kill either Father or me.<\/em><\/p>\n

The notion of seeing Qara was definitely appealing. He smiled, remembering how she\u2019d looked in that almost iridescent black armor. The memory had him so distracted that he almost ran face-first into a wagon parked just opposite the local carriage. He flung out a hand to catch himself and then glanced ahead, flushing in embarrassment.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa there, youngster!\u201d The man at the front of the cart looked amused but also had an aura of concern about him.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. I was reminiscing.\u201d He tried to put on a grin, but his sense of humor had taken a beating in Nchuand-Zel and he suspected his expression was more grimace than anything else. \u201cHmm. Are you the one they were talking about in the inn? Merchant trying to head over the pass and looking for help?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat gave it away?\u201d the man said, heaving a sigh. \u201cThis rugged face or my tired gaze? Crossing those valleys will give ye both.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald chuckled. \u201cThat, your carriage, and the fact that you neither sound nor look like someone from Skyrim.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man nodded, looking him over. \u201cI\u2019m Loke. I\u2019m going to make the return journey once I\u2019ve got\u2026 well, I\u2019m\u2026 short of a bodyguard. The fool who escorted me here got himself lost in the wilds somewhere after leaving the inn in a drunken stupor. I thought about tying him to the cart until he came to but ultimately, if you\u2019re going to put your life in someone\u2019s hands, it better be someone you trust.\u201d<\/p>\n

It sounded like a plea, a poorly-disguised one at that. This time Harald did grin. \u201cBut you\u2019re willing to trust me, someone who just happened along?\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke tsk\u2019d. \u201cAlright. I\u2019m desperate, you see. Happy now? I just need a body tae take the hits in case we get into any trouble. Which we won\u2019t, of course, don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I just happen to be in heavy armor and look like I can take the hits. Well it\u2019s true. I can. And I hear that there\u2019s ample reason for you to need a bodyguard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYe\u2019ll be paid handsomely – that is, if you don\u2019t drop the venture halfway through.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald studied Loke\u2019s face. He didn\u2019t want to open himself up to more assassins, and he\u2019d learned the hard way not to be too trusting. But he saw no reason to doubt Loke\u2019s motives. While the man was not exactly terrified<\/em> he was clearly loath to travel alone.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t need money, but I\u2019m surely interested in taking some solid information back to Father instead of just rumors. But I should at least let them know where I\u2019ve gone.<\/em><\/p>\n

Who needs assassins? They\u2019ll kill me themselves if I make it back alive.<\/em><\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cAlright. I need to find a courier and send a message. Hitch up your horse. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d As he turned to leave, he smiled. \u201cI\u2019ve never been to High Rock.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell I don\u2019t want to give you the wrong idea,\u201d the merchant said. \u201cThis is the east of High Rock. Worlds apart from the west, and don\u2019t expect us Breton folk to resemble the people you meet down there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrust me,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ve had enough experience with nobility to know the difference. That\u2019s actually why I\u2019m interested in the trip.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. Thought you sounded highborn. Oh, and bring your own rug. That hard wood\u2019s gonna be a real pain later on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Loke snorted. \u201cOn the doorstep of the kingdom, yet the gods ordain that we run into trouble now?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

It had been a largely uneventful trip south from Markarth and then west and up. That was the hardest part, the horse earning its keep hauling the cart up through the steep pass. Harald had jumped down for the crossing and just as well, given the bears and saber cats that came to investigate their passage. He\u2019d earned his keep taking care of them.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d been a bit nervous passing through the Imperial checkpoint at the border; but it was clear that these Imperials had never seen Ulfric Stormcloak. They paid Harald no heed. They knew Loke, though, and waved them through.<\/p>\n

Once past the gate they ambled along slowly, recovering from the strenuous climb. Harald took that time to drink in the views of sharp, craggy mountains, lush vegetation, and ample water. The road turned back to the north before swinging west again, and it was at this turn that they stopped. Perched on a hillside ahead was a tall Imperial watchtower with a bright green banner hanging outside – and a badly injured Breton guard slumped at the base of the banner\u2019s post.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook over there!\u201d Loke hissed. \u201cThe man\u2019s gasping for life! I\u2019m not going any further until you find out what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m on my way,\u201d Harald said, pushing his helmet down onto his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t blame me if you see this cart halfway to the horizon when I hear yer screams. I have to protect my interests.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald harrumphed. What isn\u2019t he telling me? I knew there had to be a catch. He\u2019s not the assassin I was worried about but he surely knows something I don\u2019t.<\/em><\/p>\n

Mother would have my hide stretched out on one of those nasty torture racks in Roggi\u2019s playroom if she knew I was doing this. But here I am.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

He readied his shield as he heard the man\u2019s moans. The guard lay in a huge – and spreading – pool of his own blood. The eyes peering up at Harald from inside a full-face helm said that he knew he was dying.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThose\u2026 damn\u2026 Witchmen,\u201d the man said, gasping between words as he fought to stay conscious. \u201cIn the\u2026 tower. Ambushed us when we were\u2026 changing shifts.\u201d He moaned and shuddered. \u201cWarn the Divide. Get them to\u2026 send men. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will,\u201d Harald said. The guard never heard it. The effort of giving Harald the warning had been all he could manage; his eyes closed and he slumped backward onto the ground, dying in slow motion.<\/p>\n

Harald took a look around. One fork of an overgrown pathway up the hillside led to a wooden lookout post, and at the end of the other fork was the Imperial tower. He made for the lookout platform first, trotting up the steps before coming to an abrupt halt at the top.<\/p>\n

There was another guard there, sprawled out prone across the platform. The thick wooden railings were splattered with blood, the source of which was obvious: the body lacked a head.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Harald turned to stare at the smoke drifting up from the stone tower. He had no way to know whether there was someone up there or it was simply the remnants of an existing cooking fire, but he wasn\u2019t going to take any chances. He hopped down from the platform, drew his sword, and crouched down into the tall grasses to slink up the hill. It soon became obvious that there had been a true massacre here, just as the guard had told him: at least one body – also headless – lay sprawled across the stone stairs, blood dribbling down toward the ground.<\/p>\n

This is barbarous! I know the Forsworn are dangerous and set on their revenge but I\u2019ve never known them to purposefully behead people! Accidentally, maybe – like the heads I took back in Markarth – but this is deliberate.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

He crept forward into the tower, scanning its lower level. Bedrolls and a storage chest lay on the floor opposite the stairwell, with no indications of a struggle; the other side of the room, however, told a different story. Dark red splatters covered a once-beautiful green rug and the surface of a large table holding papers and potions. Baskets lay overturned. Blood saturated a small wooden shelf. Worst of all were the heads. There were two of them, and their expressions said they\u2019d died in fear. Harald glanced up the circular steps and saw the torso that had belonged to one of them, sprawled and dripping as the one outside had been.<\/p>\n

He snarled, silently. It was desperately hard to move quietly in his armor but his life might depend on it, so his progress upward was painfully slow. As his head reached the top of the tower, he stopped, startled. There was an uncommonly pale man kneeling over a burned, bloody corpse. The man wore what Harald recognized as Forsworn armor, and the distinctive wound on his chest said that he was a Briarheart.<\/p>\n

Then the man spoke, and Harald nearly tumbled backward down the steps in shock, the hair on his neck rising. It was an eerie, very deep and guttural voice, almost croaking as though his throat had been squeezed nearly shut. \u201cAnother fleshling assails us? The King will have his towers, he will have his subjects, and he will have your head! <\/em>The Dark Mother assures this.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n

With that, the creature rose to his feet, drew a sword, and bolted toward Harald. Harald reflexively raised his shield, and a good thing, too: the Briarheart was incredibly fast. Before Harald could fathom what to do next he could see the man\u2019s red tattoos and the details of the briar heart in his chest, and could also see that this was a huge man, much taller than him.<\/p>\n

If he\u2019s fast, the only chance I have to save my life is if I\u2019m also fast. <\/em><\/p>\n

Harald only knew a few Shouts, but one of them was a combination of words that allowed him to strike like the wind for a few moments, and which might make the difference between his life and death here in a strange land. He inhaled deeply and summoned up that part of him that was the Dovahzul.<\/p>\n

\u201cSU- GRAH!\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Then it was a blur of motion as Harald blocked the Briarheart\u2019s sword, slashed with his own in a flurry of blows, and bashed with the spiked shield as he drove the man back and reached solid footing on the platform. He was making good progress when the Briarheart opened his mouth and croaked more words.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe maggot comes forth! Make them rot!\u201d<\/p>\n

Then, to Harald\u2019s horror, it spewed a fountain of green liquid. In spite of a quick dodge sparing him from the worst of it Harald couldn\u2019t avoid breathing the fumes as the poison splattered onto the rooftop. He immediately felt sick. He had to kill the creature or die himself.<\/p>\n

Then he stopped thinking. The blind fury he\u2019d unleashed on the Falmer in Nchuand-Zel rose once more even as the effects of his Shout waned. He swung twice – the first blow a sideways slice and the second an overhand power attack – and followed by smashing the spikes of his shield into the Forsworn\u2019s face. He lowered the shield and stabbed upward with his sword, skewering the Briarheart through its chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am Hers,\u201d the creature belched as it collapsed onto the decking. Harald stood panting for a moment as his rage subsided, and downed a small healing potion to counteract the poisonous fumes.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d he said to the deceased Forsworn, \u201cyou\u2019ve got me at a disadvantage. I don\u2019t know how you spit poison. Your skin\u2019s not red; you\u2019re not one of the Afflicted. I don\u2019t know who the King is. And I surely don\u2019t know who the Dark Mother is. Not the Night Mother, I assume. So what is your story, I wonder?\u201d He looked around in disgust at the bodies, and the torso-less Imperial head flung to the side. Then he peered back down the road and saw Loke\u2019s horse and cart still where he\u2019d left them.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I\u2019d better go check in. He\u2019ll want to know that the path\u2019s clear.\u201d<\/p>\n

He dropped to his knees for a moment, thanking Shor for his strength in battle. When he rose again, he felt somehow stronger than he had before entering the tower.<\/p>\n

Maybe Roggi\u2019s shield techniques will be easier to use now. It feels as though they will. Thank you, Shor.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAlright?\u201d Loke asked as Harald neared him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am, but there are no survivors. The Forsworn butchered them all.\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke\u2019s eyes widened, and he wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering. \u201cNo, friend. Not Forsworn. Witchmen<\/em>. Didn\u2019t I tell you about these devils already?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. You must have forgotten. It doesn\u2019t matter, though; tell me now. I need to understand what\u2019s going on here. That\u2019s why I came with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, believe me. These aren\u2019t the type you want to be ignorant about. Treat them like any ordinary scoundrel and the next sight you\u2019ll be seeing is that of your gods.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald frowned. \u201cI came close just now, as it happens.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBastards coat their blades and arrows with this vile poison, a resin so foul giants fall to an agonizing death with just a brush. I\u2019m not sure how you came out of there alive, to be honest. You\u2019re tougher than you look.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald nodded. \u201cI was taught by some of the best and have a few tricks up my sleeve. You heard my Shout?\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke\u2019s eyebrows rose. \u201cIs that what that was? I heard the noise and couldn\u2019t fathom it. One of the old magicks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald was surprised to hear the Thu\u2019um referred to in those terms, but that was, after all, what the Voice was – an ancient form of magic that had begun with the dragons. That was likely why so few of the magic-shunning Nords truly trusted the High King who, legends held, could Shout a man to death. As far as Harald knew, only Dardeh had actually done such a thing during their lifetimes, but the rumors and distrust persisted.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I\u2019m not very good at it, frankly, but I know enough to get myself out of some tight spots. And that was tight. That man – or whatever he was – he was fast. I needed to be faster.\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke looked him over again and nodded. \u201cAnd a bit of a berserker you are, too, highborn or not. Well, I thank you. These scum are a whole new low for the Reachmen, carving up man, woman, child and babe alike for their rituals. Then they hoist the bodies they harvest in that dense woodland up north. Foul. Simply foul.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. They beheaded all the guards. I\u2019ll need to look into this while I\u2019m here,\u201d Harald said. \u201cSo am I likely to run across any more of these \u2018Witchmen\u2019 on the road?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t, if you don\u2019t take any detours. First town that you\u2019ll come across is the Divide, perched up on a great, hulking stone bridge. From the top of it you\u2019ll have a vista of the Reach – most notably Arnima, and if you squint hard enough, Evermore itself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald frowned. He\u2019d heard that name often enough. \u201cI thought Evermore was a kingdom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSemantics, eh? Evermore is the kingdom and<\/em> the capital city. Used to be just a backwater, but recent times have spoiled the city with wealth, and power that they\u2019ve used to conquer their less \u2018civilized\u2019 neighbors.\u201d He looked around and sighed. \u201cWell, my clients are probably waiting with bated breath. I\u2019ve taken long enough to get here already. I\u2019ll need to skip on any indulgences on the bridge and head straight to Arnima.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happens there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke grimaced. \u201cNothing pleasant, I assure you. Most everyone considers it to be a stain on the kingdom. Most of the guards are nothing but thugs waiting to shake down us humble merchants, and they routinely terrorize those unfortunate sods that don\u2019t have the means to leave. And the governor is a strange character, Mortifayne.\u201d He tsk\u2019d. \u201cLord<\/em> Mortifayne, to be correct. Never call a lord by his name.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald couldn\u2019t help but chuckle at that. It was bad enough trying to keep ahead of \u201cmy Jarl\u201d or \u201cyour Majesty\u201d or even just \u201cser\u201d in Skyrim, but he was used to it. \u201cI\u2019ll be careful.\u201d<\/p>\n

Loke peered at him again. \u201cHighborn. I knew it. But do take care. I\u2019ve heard tales of strange punishments for those beneath Lord <\/em>Mortifayne who weren\u2019t wise enough to escape. Most ignore these tales because they\u2019re hard to imagine happening in a civilized place, but I never risked finding out for myself. It dampens the mood, which isn\u2019t good when you\u2019re traveling on your lonesome.\u201d<\/p>\n

He reached into the cart and pulled out a fat coin purse, handing it to Harald. \u201cHere\u2019s yer pay for getting me through the pass. You should talk to the governor when you reach the Divide. Merosa. Frumpy little woman, but don\u2019t tell her I said that. She\u2019ll normally be in the temple, \u2018praying\u2019 to Mara.\u201d He winked. \u201cAnd with that, I\u2019d best be going. Hopefully the guards are knockout drunk as usual. They\u2019re meanest when they\u2019re sober.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Loke. Take care.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you around, friend.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald nodded and started trotting down the road as Loke returned to his wagon. Ordinarily, such a lovely day might have put all concerns out of his mind, but the encounter with the Witchman had been too unsettling. The power situation in the Reach had him deep in thought, as well, to the point that when the huge shadow moved overhead and raced down the road in front of him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.<\/p>\n

Dragon?<\/em><\/p>\n

He reflexively grabbed for the bow the Nerevarine had given him; bad shot or not he couldn\u2019t very well use sword and shield to fight a dragon. He looked up and gasped.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a dragon, though it was the size of one. No, this had feathers on its wings and around its head – a griffon. It flew ahead of Harald, crossed the road, and landed atop a cliff nearby. Harald slammed his helmet down and took aim. His arrow landed – he saw dust fly from the creature\u2019s feathers – but seemed to do no damage. The griffon launched into the air for just a moment, but then settled back onto the rocks, watching the passage of a seemingly-unconcerned party of Orcs heading toward the border.<\/p>\n

Then, to Harald\u2019s utter astonishment, it began to speak.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the clouds gather again. How futile. Your tears will not wash away the roots. The feast draws near, little wolves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

With that, the griffon once more leapt into the skies, flying away toward the guard post that came into view as Harald ran. He chased it for a few moments, thinking that he might get another shot at it, but it was far too fast. He slowed to a stop, shaking his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey said things were even worse in the West but I surely wasn\u2019t expecting this,\u201d he murmured to himself. \u201cThe feast draws near? I hope I\u2019m not in over my head.\u201d<\/p>\n

A part of him said \u201cturn back.\u201d He already had valuable information: he could report that it was in fact very strange and very dangerous here, even with as little as he knew. The snippets of local politics he had gotten from Loke would be useful to his father. Maybe Dardeh knew something about a dragon-like griffon. Maybe Esbern did; he was certain the Blades would accept his presence once more if he went with Qara. The thought made him grimace.<\/p>\n

If Qara will even talk to me. She sure seemed angry<\/em>.<\/p>\n

If he turned back now, he\u2019d have a chance to make amends with her before the resentment set in too deeply. But if he turned and ran now, he would never know what other threats loomed here in the Reach. It wasn\u2019t far from that Imperial checkpoint to Markarth, after all, and a great many contingents of various sorts still hated his father. He needed to know whether events would threaten the High King of Skyrim any time soon.<\/p>\n

Besides, he thought as he trudged forward to the gate, the truth of the matter is that I want to see it for myself. I\u2019m tired of being only the High King\u2019s heir. If I can\u2019t prove myself somehow what kind of an heir am I, anyway?<\/p>\n

A voice called down to him as he was about to pass through the gate. \u201cHold up. I haven\u2019t seen you up here before. What\u2019s your business?\u201d<\/p>\n

Looking for trouble probably isn\u2019t what I want to say, is it. <\/em><\/p>\n

The guard was dressed as the poor deceased soldier at the signpost had been. This was a Reach guard, not Imperial.<\/p>\n

\u201cWitchmen have sacked the watchtower to the east. I\u2019m here to inform Merosa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWitchmen?\u201d The man sighed. \u201cBloody Mara, I never thought they\u2019d get this close. OK. Go through to Merosa. Tell her everything, for the sake of the Reach!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. I will.\u201d<\/p>\n

Past the gate, the roadway climbed steeply. To the south, the great stone bridge spanning a deep ravine loomed, a long wooden ramp built atop its steps accommodating carriage passage. Harald saw a small inn set just off the road to the west, two men chatting near its entry. As Harald turned to cross the ramp he could just make out what they were saying.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Ave ye heard the news from Skyrim? They say that Ulfric was captured and killed!\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald barely managed to contain a loud snort of laughter. The other man laughed for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYe daft fool, that\u2019s not news! He wasn\u2019t killed. A dragon came to rescue him. That was twenty years ago, at least. And he\u2019s the High King out there, or whatever they call their leader. For years and years now. Ye need to get out more often.\u201d<\/p>\n

The first man laughed as well. \u201cA dragon! Ye\u2019re mad, brother!\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald trotted into the town, grinning in spite of the somber news he needed to share with its leader. If the news of his father was that muddled out here, it wasn\u2019t likely that anyone would recognize him as the son. Unless the assassins had followed him, he\u2019d be a lot safer.<\/p>\n

As he reached the top of the wooden ramp, he heard the well-trained voice of the town crier, standing beside the road with his arms held wide.<\/p>\n

\u201cFresh news for the hearty folk of the Divide! Horrific doom befalls the hamlet of Sabbat, torn to shreds by vile magic! It has been overtaken by dead! Or should I say, Undead. The Orcs still lurk in the countryside and they\u2019re out for blood! Remain within the city walls, or at least don\u2019t travel alone!\u201d<\/p>\n

Well that at least seems to be a correct piece of information. I passed by a group of them just a moment ago. They weren\u2019t out for blood, though. They just seemed to be travelling. But – undead ravaging a town? That\u2019s not good.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"The bridge and most of the town itself had been built up on a base of heavy stone slabs, probably taken straight out of the riverbed in some distant era. Several secondary archways topped it, creating an odd upper level. The most prominent feature was an imposing church atop the central arch. That was where he needed to look for Merosa; access to the upper level, though, wasn\u2019t obvious.<\/p>\n

He jogged beneath the heavy arch, looking for stairs or a ramp, and was happy to spy a set of steps like those at the north end of the bridge. To his disappointment he found that they only led up to a crumbling watchtower. A man in light guard\u2019s armor leaned against the stone archway beneath the tower, speaking to a man in commoner\u2019s clothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes I yearn for those simpler times, where a cold winter was the worst of our concerns, a rake in hand rather than a sword.\u201d<\/p>\n

The other man smiled. \u201cNostalgia, sir, nothing but. Yet fortune favors those in your craft. The potential of knighthood! \u201d<\/p>\n

The guard snorted. \u201cPardon my blasphemy but that title would hold water in any <\/em>other kingdom, not this one. The recently knighted include vagabonds, scoundrels, and other miscreants. There\u2019s no tradition, no culture – nothing noble left to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The commoner paused for a moment before nodding. \u201cTake comfort in those words not being yours alone. The news from our capitol says that many others share in your anger. After your shift we\u2019ll visit the inn and drown those worries.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald tucked that bit of information away to share with his father and wandered past them, only to find that he was at the end of the great bridge. Turning back toward the north he saw a set of wooden steps almost hidden away at the east side of the central arch and was pleased to find that they led up to a platform hugging three sides of the church. At the platform\u2019s far end was a door, a plaque mounted next to it reading \u201cMother\u2019s Temple of Grace.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mother Mara. Well, I hope they won\u2019t be offended if I continue to worship Shor. He hasn\u2019t steered me wrong thus far.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

He stepped into the temple and stopped to take stock of his surroundings. There were lovely, tall stained glass windows along each wall, with three more gracing the curved apse opposite him. Heavy red curtains marked the raised sanctuary, which held a statue of the goddess Mara as well as a shrine to her atop a polished wooden cabinet.<\/p>\n

Of perhaps more interest was a raised, circular stone platform below and in front of the sanctuary. A podium faced the array of worshipper benches, but dominating the space was a heavy stone font centered on the stone circle. Harald had no idea what it would be used for: baptisms, perhaps? Even more unusual to his eye were the full alchemy setup and enchanting table arrayed along the left-hand aisle. It was strangely unsettling to see these mundane crafting stations in a church. Harald had seen many temples before, of course, but while this church bore a passing resemblance to the Temple of the Divines in Solitude it in no way had the same ancient, enormous, ponderous solemnity of the Temple. It was probably similar in style to churches farther south in High Rock, but it felt like a poor imitation of whatever it was meant to emulate.<\/p>\n

Harald turned his attention to the occupants. One lone figure sat quietly on a bench. A very tall man in dark armor leaned against the wall near the door. To Harald\u2019s left a man in priest\u2019s robes spoke to a mousy-looking woman dressed as nobility.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

That must be Merosa. Frumpy.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou wanted to speak of Mortifayne? I\u2019ve heard news from the council that his seat in Arnima may be put into question.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard correctly,\u201d the woman answered haughtily. \u201cHe and his guards are demanding more gold from the merchants, while also becoming more aggressive. No better than thugs. And that little lord does nothing but encourage it! I despise that unsightly man. Every conversation with him is extremely unpleasant. And his paranoia means we have nobody in town to keep an eye on him.\u201d<\/p>\n

She and the priest saw Harald approach and broke off their conversation. She turned to him, a question in her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cPardon my presumption, but are you Merosa?\u201d<\/p>\n

She crossed her arms and scowled at him. \u201cHave we arranged a meeting? Or is it your practice to address nobility lacking proper decorum?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Harald felt his hackles rising and fought to keep a calm expression. If we come right down to it, I\u2019m nobility as well, my lady. But I suppose that revealing that would be the height of stupidity. <\/em><\/p>\n

He cleared his throat before speaking. \u201cMy name is Harald, and I\u2019m from Skyrim. On the way here I stopped to help a poor soul at your watchtower and discovered that not only he, but at least three others were butchered by Witchmen. The place was sacked. Nobody survived, including the Witchman, who I dispatched.\u201d Barely. I was fortunate to survive.<\/em><\/p>\n

Her eyes widened. \u201cOh! A harbinger of grim news. Never the best first impression. However, thank you for telling me – before my own guards did,\u201d she tsk\u2019d. \u201cI suppose it was only a matter of time before the Witchmen spilled further east. We\u2019ll replace the guard there as soon as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs you said, I\u2019m just the messenger.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPardon the introduction. Do understand the need for it. We can\u2019t have just any wandering yokel approach royalty like they\u2019re of the same stock; it\u2019s not good for the kingdom\u2019s image.\u201d<\/p>\n

Harald stifled a sigh. So this is how it\u2019s going to be? Very well, then. <\/em><\/p>\n

Wandering yokel, indeed.<\/em><\/p>\n

Home<\/a><\/div>\n
Previous<\/a> \/ Next<\/a><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Home Previous \/ Next   Harald trudged out Markarth\u2019s gates and down the stone stairway. It had been a good choice to spend the evening at the Silver-Blood Inn, even if the drinks had been watered and the stone bed made not a bit softer by the thinnest of coverings. Still, he felt a bit … <\/p>\n

Continue reading “Chapter 7 – Harald”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":2451,"menu_order":7,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2601","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2601","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2601"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2601\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2638,"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2601\/revisions\/2638"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2451"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/baakay.com\/Snow\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2601"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}