Go to Jorrvaskr

I was woken by the smell of roast rabbit and honey. Next I heard was Mila singing. I opened my eyes and saw it was still dark out. Must’ve been pretty early.

“Can I carry the basket today, mama?”

“Sure, love. On the way to the farm, I’ll carry it back.”

“But I’m strong enough!”

“I know you are, but I can’t let you do all the work, can I?”

“Alright…”

I got dressed and climbed down the ladder, immediately being greeted by Mila.

“Ylsi,” she squealed. “Did you sleep well?”

I grinned and smiled at Carlotta. “Sure did, kiddo.”

“I did too,” the girl said. “I dreamed I was riding a mammoth.”

“Did you now?”

“Yup,” she continued. “It was pink.”

Carlotta handed me a plate. “So, what’re your plans today?”

“Gonna try my luck with the companions. If you don’t need help with your trip to the farm of course.”

Carlotta smiled. “We’ll be fine. We’re a team. Right, Mila?”

Mila nodded. “I get to carry the basket today.”

I bit into my breakfast. The sweetness of the honey played well with the gamy taste of the rabbit. Carlotta was busy combing her daughter’s hair, and for a moment I imagined staying with her to live a quiet merchant’s life. It would be sweet, yet I knew neither of us would truly be satisfied with that.

“Well, if she’s got you helping her, I’m sure your mom will be fine.”

After breakfast the two went off, Mila indeed carrying the basket, and Carlotta giving me a deep hug. “Thank you for last night, I needed that.”

“So did I,” I said. “Will I see you around?”

“Sure,” she said. “If you’re not too busy being a famous companion.”

“I’ll make time,” I laughed.

And with that, we went our separate ways, both in opposite directions. I went deeper into the Wind District, wandering the quiet morning streets, and when I finally arrived back in the round garden, sun had risen and the city had woken.

"Terrible and powerful Talos!” A voice called out. “We, your unworthy servants, give praise! For only through your grace and benevolence may we truly reach enlightenment! And deserve our praise you do, for we are one! Ere you ascended and the Eight became Nine, you walked among us, great Talos, not as god, but as man!"

I hadn’t noticed the tall statue of what I suspected to be Tiber Septim earlier. It was rather hidden, perhaps purposefully so, behind tall flowery bushes, yet if you knew where to look, you could see a clear path leading through it. Yet the voice had drawn me toward it, and I gazed upon the fearsome face of the first Septim emperor. I’m not a godly person, and I didn’t feel like getting preached to, but the statue was vastly different than what I was used to in Cyrodiil. What I saw was a warrior, close to a Nord berserker, tacitly thrusting his sword down into the maw of a writhing wyrm. I grinned. Perhaps if I’d been shown this statue as a child, I would have followed Klija in her worship of this forgotten god.

I got out of there before the preacher noticed me, and turned towards the arched structure at the end of the garden.

Jorrvaskr. An odd thought entered my mind as I climbed the steps. Who in their right mind would carry a ship all this way inland, just to make a mead hall out of it? It was one of those stories of cloud-vomiting and earth-eating I’d heard of the ancient Nords, and of which no one knew wether to call them myth or history, if that distinction even mattered.

I took a deep breath before opening the doors, and stepped in.

No one noticed me entering.

The large table that surrounded a fire pit had been abandoned, breakfast half eaten, and all of its residents had gathered in a circle at the end of the hall, shouting and cheering.

The walls were lined with shields, swords, spears, bows and axes. Hundreds of weapons and armours from warriors past which I could’ve stared at for hours, imagining their deeds, yet curiosity got the better of me, and I joined the crowd, wondering what in Oblivion was going on there.

A tall Nordic woman was straddling a bloodied Dunmer man, violently pummeling him as he hopelessly tried to guard against her. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he tapped her thigh, and she immediately got off him, receiving her brethren’s praises. She was handed a mug of mead, and downed it in one go.

Her opponent was hauled to his feet and too received a mug of mead, which he drank with his arm around the Nord woman, as they both left the hall by stumbling downstairs.

Without much comment, the others sat back at the table and resumed their feasting.

“Came to visit?” I turned around and was greeted by Farkas. “Or did you decide to join our little family?”

“The latter,” I said. “If you’ll have me.”

“Not for me to decide,” he shrugged. “You’ll need to see Kodlak for that. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

I followed Farkas to the back of the hall, out into a courtyard littered with practice dummy’s and blunted weapons. To the back, against the city wall, two men were sitting at a table, enjoying their breakfast in the shade.

“Is Kodlak your leader?”

“We don’t have a leader,” Farkas responded. “But Kodlak is our harbinger. He gives advice, and most of us heed it.”

“Who’s this, Farkas?” Kodlak asked, interrupting his conversation with the other man.

“She’s the one who helped us kill that giant. She wants to join us,” Farkas said.

“Does she now?” Kodlak responded, eyeing me up and down. The man was ancient, face marked by age and battle, and long of white hair and beard. Despite that, I was still rather convinced he could kill me without much effort. “Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit. You’ve shown yourself capable, but all of us here earn their place. Show yourself a part of as well, and you’ll be a companion. We’re a family, act like it. Now, if you’ll indulge me, show me how you fight. Vilkas, if you would?”

The other man stood up and introduced himself as Vilkas, Farkas’ brother. We sparred for a while, both getting a few good hits in, and afterwards, Vilkas took me to see their blacksmith. The Skyforge was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It seemed carved out of the rocks, with a giant stone eagle overlooking everything. It seemed ancient, more so than anything I’d seen before.

“Eorlund,” Vilkas greeted the grey man hammering away at the rivets of an ornate shield. “Meet our newest whelp, she’s the one who helped my brother kill the giant.”

“Pleasure,” he started, until he noticed my armour. “Well who’d had expected that?”

“I know,” Vilkas grinned.

“Could I have a look at that, dear?”

I gave him my helmet. Eorlung tutted as he turned it in his hands. “It’s a damn shame leaving that to collect dust. I’m glad it’s being worn again.”

He gave it back to me. “Ylsi, isn’t it? Farkas spoke of you.”

“All good, I hope?” I said.

The old man smiled. “Very much so. What’s your weapon?”

“I don’t have any at the moment,” I said. “But anything long works for me.”

“Yes…” he said. “Very well. Come see me later, I’ll make something fitting for you.”

“Just like that?” I asked.

“No, no, you’ll do something for me too,” he said. “I've been working on a shield for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. I'd be much obliged if you could take this to Aela for me."