Chapter 6: Chapter VI: Ballin, and Tavern-Talk *Edited*
As the party was tiredly trudging back toward Whiterun Reyvin checked his notifications.
[Multiple quests completed]
[Mag: 122 => 127]
[Restoration-novice 40% => 70%]
He suddenly felt a slight bit more heavy in a metaphysical sense, and his restoration spells seemed like they were simpler than before 'So this is how it works, huh' he thought as they reached the gate.
"You got those shits eh?" The gate guard asks with 0 preamble.
"Aye, they shattered in front of my spear, just as Malakath intended." Says a very excited orc, his two companions though seemed much less enthusiastic after hours of walking and fighting.
"I donno about Malakath, but I sure do appreciate you taking care of them, go on in the Jarl will likely want to speak with you" The guard points his thumb behind him.
They enter the city and start cursing at the fact that they have to climb again, well at least the mages do, Durrak seems so happy with his victory that he doesn't even notice the trip until they are already at the doors of the palace.
They walk up to the throne where the jarl seems to be shouting at a sleazy dark skinned man who is cowering like a dog. "AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY PALACE NAZEEM I SWEAR TO THE GODS THE NEXT TIME YOU RUN YOUR DAMN MOUTH ILL!!!"
"Calm down my jarl I think he got the message" The steward, Avenicci if Reyvin's memory served, tries to defuse the situation with a placating voice.
"Fine, get out, now!" the jarl huffs and sits back down.
Nazeem scampers off with surprising speed not even noticing the three new arrivals who then proceed to stand before the jarl.
'The man, the myth, the legend jarl Ballin himself' Reyvin thinks to himself with an internal chuckle.
He gives the man a light bow and speaks "Greetings Jarl, we would like to report that the ironhand bandits have been dealt with, although whoever informed you of the numbers was wrong, since there were just over half of them present on site."
Balgruuf nods, unsurprised "This was to be expected, there was another group of them that were caught by the sleazebag's guards after you left"
'Huh so I guess he came here to brag and went a bit too far' Reyvin surmises easily.
"No matter" The Jarl waves it off "The most important part is that the leader, Hajvarr was slain, and from your Orcish friend's new gauntlets I can see that is the case" he nods toward Durrak.
"Oh, so these are of some renown then?" Reyvin asks with a raised eyebrow.
Balgruuf looks to be reminiscing before nodding "Yes, they belonged to the small Iron-hand clan of Whiterun, but the man you took them off was the last member and turned to banditry so you can keep them without any worries"
"My thanks chief." says Durrak smiling thinking about all the things he can slay now.
Balgruuf rewards the Orc with a stoic nod before once more speaking to Reyvin, whom he understood was the unspoken leader of the group "As for your reward, you will still be given the full amount, as I said the leader was the most important, also I overheard you were heading towards Windhelm sometime soon, I have another request to make of you"
They all shared a glance and after some shrugs Reyvin turned back to Balgruuf "As long as we are capable of doing it I don't see an issue with it."
The jarl nods towards Avenicci who gives them a letter, afterwards he continues "I need this letter delivered to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, within a week at the latest, there will be a bonus added to your reward now since I don't think you will be coming back very soon"
Reyvin seems surprised by this and asks "Why would you trust us so quickly? We are newcomers and outlanders to you."
The Jarl chuckles "It is not that important of a letter, and you have already shown your honor by slaying the bandits, besides if you cheat me you will not be welcome to Whiterun again, and I don't think you are stupid" He finishes a bit more darkly.
"Fair enough, we should reach Windhelm in four days if there are not too many complications." Reyvin accepts easily enough.
After the conversation with the Jarl, the trio excused themselves, Morrigan went out to get them a place at the inn, Durrak went to get his new armor fitted and to sell off the bandit's weapons and armor he carried back, while Reyvin once more paid a visit to Farengar.
"Ah you are back, I see that they were not enough to injure you" The Court Mage greets him with a jovial smile, the middle-aged man seemingly happy that a talented mage was not snuffed out before his time.
Reyvin waves his hand in a 'so-so' motion "One of them did rattle me a bit but we came out on top, I still didn't learn the previous spell I got from you but since we will be heading out for quite some time, I need some books on wards, enchanting and alchemy if you have them."
"I do, just a lesser ward and some recipe books though the enchantment manuals are very pricy." He says to the elf basically telling him that he cannot afford it.
Reyvin shrugs, already satisfied with his gains "Sure, I'll take the first two then, and any notes on the wards if you have them"
"Of course" The older mage starts rummaging through a chest in the corner of the room, and after sneezing from all the dust inside he comes back "Here you go that will be two hundred septims"
Reyvin pays him and goes to find his companions.
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As they are eating in the tavern late in the evening they strike up a conversation:
"So Morrigan what are your plans when we get to the college" Reyvin asks while chewing on a sweet roll. It was not as good as the confectionaries he was used to but it would do in a pinch.
"I plan to get so powerful no one will bother me of course, and rich too, say what you will about living freely in the wilds but after tasting the luxuries here I will need all the money I can get" She smiles with greed in her eyes.
'What have I created' Reyvin thinks with a slight building horror. He turns to his Orcish friend "What about you Durrak what are your long-term goals besides beating the shit out of anyone and everyone?" he asks with a smile, the orc's simple outlook was definitively starting to grow on him.
"Well, then I will beat the shit out of not mere everyone but everyTHING! Just imagine what fun it will be to crush those pesky totally-not-goblin Falmer and their master's toys HAH!"
A small, evil part of Reyvin told him 'Well at least I will have someone to take the hits for me then' but he was mostly entertained by the Orc's enthusiasm.
"What are your plans Reyvin, all you ever mentioned was going to the college and nothing beyond that." Morrigan asks him, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
He shrugs in response "Well, my plans are pretty similar to yours in essence, get powerful enough so that people prefer to leave me alone instead of trying to kill me for my ancestry, and also so I can explore the world without much issue."
"Your ancestry?" Durrak asks confused "I am pretty sure that the Nords don't dislike you that much" Morrigan merely hums along waiting for the real explanation.
Reyvin scowls lightly before righting himself "Let us just say that my house is not well-liked, even after after all these years the house of Dagoth is still reviled for the deeds of my ancestor."
Durrak merely looks confused while there is a hint of recognition in Morrigan's eyes "I can see how being related to that madman might make people bay for your blood..."
"Ah yes dear old grandfather did get really high on that Lorkhan juice didn't he" Reyvin smiles wryly.
Now she looks surprised "He actually had kids? Even the hags knew he had a massive thing for your Saint Nerevar."
Reyvin actually laughs at this one "Oh yes he did, his moon and star I do believe he called him, but as any megalomaniac he wanted to leave a legacy just in case, which is funny because my father went on to become one of the best Legionary Legates in the war, the only reason he was never made general was his house, he must be rolling in the red mountain as we speak"
They all hear a surprised gasp behind them, but it was quickly silenced almost as if on instinct. Reyvin turns around and finds a dark elf woman standing behind a corner listening in on them. He simply signals her to come forward, more of a command than a request as shown by the fire roiling in one of his hands. All the other patrons quickly move away just in case while the tavern owner looks super pissed but keeps silent for now.
The elven woman approaches slowly, while Reyvin has a slight look of recognition in his eyes 'Isn't she that mercenary you can hire at the hunter's inn or something?' when she is close enough he asks in a sharp tone "So are we going to have a problem with what you just heard?"
She remains silent for a bit then simply shakes her head "That war has long been over, and besides no one has requested your head, yet." a sadistic smile now on her face
He stares at her before slowly dispelling the flames while thinking 'I cannot kill her now, she didn't attack me and I'll be drawing mad suspicion at myself if she gets disappeared, best solution knowing she is a mercenary is to hire her' "So you seem to have no issue with me possibly being the Sharmat reborn or something equally ridiculous, why did you listen in on us anyway?"
"Well, I heard that you were going to be traveling towards Windhelm and I wanted to visit my family there" She 'shily' explains.
Reyvin groans in outrage "Why by all the gods is everyone here such a fucking gossip??" he asks, completely exasperated.
She laughs at this "Information is a pretty profitable business, and besides people get bored." She adds with a shrug.
"so I am guessing you want to head out with us?" He asks already tired from the entire event.
"Yes and don't worry, no cultists of Azura will learn of this from me, consider it a bit compensation for barging in." She smiles and walks off, not before hearing Reyvin yell out "Be at the gate the morning of the next day."
Both of his companions look at him as if waiting for an explanation, mostly Durrak but Morrigan is also fishing for details. "Fuck it give me a drink and I will give you the full history lesson" he sighs for the nth time today and starts weaving the story of false gods, reincarnations, CHIM, and a dude with three eyes wearing a pot on his head with no other clothes.
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