The Adventures of a Mage in Skyrim - Part 7

The Long Road Back To Whiterun

The woods west of Riften are as beautiful as they are dangerous. I came by a heavily guarded farm south of Lake Honrich, in sight of the city, just as a troll attacked the farmers. I hit it with my flame spells and the guards took it down with bow and arrows. This little episode should be a warning of what was waiting for me deeper in the forest.

I strayed a bit south off the road, looking for herbs to collect and deer to hunt, as suddenly the earth began to shake and the sound of a nearby battle did alarm me. Before I could realize what was going on, a Orc mage did land right before my feet. She was unconscious and just getting her senses back. But before I was able to help her I saw a giant running towards me, wielding its massive club. I turned and started to run, back to the road and towards the farm where I saw the guards just before.

I guess the giant spared the Orc's life because I seemed to have his full attention now. Every few steps I made on my run, I felt the earth shaking from the leaps the giant made to catch me. Almost out of breath I started to conjure flame atronarchs, just to see each getting smashed into bits by one hit with the giant's club. Somehow I made it alive to the guards and they ran to my help, or to defend the farm, but just lets assume it was their priority to rescue me!

I think conjuring the many atronarchs did weaken the giant more than I did expect since the giant did fall only after a comparably short fight. Curiously I started to examine the huge creature and looted what was useful to me. Amongst other things I found a Mammoth Tusk, which I picked up to bring it to Ysolda in Whiterun.

Despite their monstrous size, giants are surprisingly human-like in their appearance. They actually look like perversely overgrown humans with wiry and bony limbs and torso and a pale and distorted face. From my studies I knew that giant's toe was a pretty common alchemy ingredient, so I cut them off with my dwemer army knife. Giant's toe – unlike dragon's tongue, which is actually a flower – really is giant's toe and tastes a bit like goat cheese.

After this episode I went back to the place where the mage landed. I suspect she had an encounter with the giant's club or got somehow thrown away by it, so I expected her to have suffered quite a trauma. The spot she hit the ground was pretty easy to identify, since a shallow pond was just nearby, but no trace of the mage. She must have survived her fall. Quite an impressive display of orcish robustness.

A few minutes walk away I spotted a wooden stronghold. As I carefully approached it I saw my Orc mage again! She must have remembered me, because she was pretty friendly towards me, unlike her companion who clearly wanted me to bugger off as soon as possible.

It's really strange. An Orc mage seems to be one of the biggest oxymoron you could think of, but she was already the second I did encounter in Skyrim already! She actually looked more like a necromancer to me, according to her robe. But who am I to judge foreign cultures.

She told me the story of her clan. The Orcs in Skyrim – as far as they didn't live in the Nord settlements – were organized in clans living in remote forts out in the wild and usually don't tolerate outsiders.

As she told me why she made an exception with me, things began to get really weird: Her clan lost the favour of their god Malacath because of their weak chief, who wasn't able to defend their stronghold against the giants in the region. They lost already many men to the giants but their leader stayed away from the fights. So she asked me to help her clan getting its honour back and please Malacath by helping her performing a ritual. She just needed some troll fat and a daedra heart from me...

I promised them to keep their matter in mind and left, feeling the hopes and expectations of the Orc mage weighing quite heavily on me. How the hell do they all get the strange idea I might be the answer to their problems? I just barely survived a fight with an ordinary bandit leader and didn't at all feel like being some kind of tough adventurer, or even a hero.

Following the road further west I had a few encounters with bears and trolls before reaching the outskirts of the mountains which divide the south of Skyrim into the Falkreath and the Rift hold. I decided to leave Ivarstead aside and go directly into the mountains. I knew it was quite a risky decision, but I just wanted to return to a region more familiar to me. Ironic, isn't it? Helgen, the place where I almost got beheaded not long ago, suddenly became a symbol of hope for me.

The climate became colder the closer I came to the mountains and an icy wind from the Throat of the World blew snow into my face that it hurt like a thousand needles.

The sun began to set and I cursed myself for the decision not going to Ivarstead and instead following this damn mountain pass. It became very quickly dark and the wind became a nasty snow-storm. I had difficulties to see the path winding up between the cliffs. I prepared myself to fight off ice wolves or bears or trolls or whatever creatures might lurk behind each corner in this hell. Suddenly I saw a shack snug against the rocks. I must have cried in joy! I ran towards the shack as a pack of wolves came out of the dark, but they couldn't stop me.

I stepped into the shack where a Nord was sitting. After I made him clear I'm not representing a threat to him, he seemed rather peacefully. Except for rambling paranoid and suspecting me of being an imperial spy. But I think that simply happens to you when you are a hermit, living out in the mountains for too long.

After all though in a place like this neither of us could be picky about their company. I was worn and tired, and a terrible storm was going on outside. I think we both were simply glad not to be out in the wild that night.

I can't say I had a great sleep that night but the next morning the storm was gone and the pass looked so peaceful. As if it was a completely different place! I wanted to make use of the good weather and bid the hermit farewell.

A few corners further I hear the noises of a battle somewhere ahead of me. I carefully continued my path, ready to take cover any moment. I was lucky though. Lots of dead bodies of imperial legionnaires appeared ahead of me. Some Stormcloak soldiers were amongst them too, but by far the most were legionnaires. The road was actually scattered with dead imperial soldiers! I followed the trail of dead bodies and figured the battle must have dragged on over a pretty long distance. Were the imperials spread thin and therefore an easy target for the Stormcloaks? It appeared so. I eventually ran into the victorious Stormcloak soldiers. They weren't terribly many of them left and they mostly ignored me. I guess they were busy with treating their wounds and mourn the loss of their companions.

I arrived a the ruins of Helgen without further incident. Strangely The city's gates were intact and closed shut. This smelled dangerous. Did the imperials reoccupy the place? Or bandits? I decided not to try my luck and avoid the place. I made my way around the ruins until I could return on the road to Riverwood.

Coming back there was a bit like seeing an old friend again. The little, peaceful Riverwood! I said hello to Gerdur and Hod and did some trading before heading to Whiterun. I gathered a lot of herbs and other ingredients and I could really need some money and my stock of potions was pretty depleted too.

How good it was to see Whiterun again! The friendly and peaceful land, the warm climate of its hold. If you ever tried to cross a mountain pass in a snow-storm or got almost beaten to mash by a giant you really appreciate a place like this.

I spent a pretty good time there. My purse got filled nicely, I got a few useful things and simply enjoyed myself!

Oh and I got rid of that Mammoth Tusk I was carrying since my encounter with that giant. Ysolda was delighted to see it and told me a few tricks for bartering with shop-keepers. But next time I will think twice before I carry something unwieldy over a mountain pass.

I also went up to Whiterun's Castle, Dragons Reach, where I saw the Jarl's wizard, Farengar, again for some trading. He was surprised to see me return with empty hands and did remind me of getting them this Dragon-Stone thing from Bleak Falls Barrow. Ah well.

It wasn't too far away. You could see the mountain it was resting at from Dragon's Reach after all. And perhaps stepping down into a Nord ruin again would be interesting. Saarthal went pretty well too after all, so I decided to do him this favor.