More fighting, and more drinking

That was the first of a bunch of successful jobs Ria and I did together. After a few weeks we were truly feeling like Companions, as we had a few good stories to tell, which were as valuable as gold in Jorrvaskr, perhaps even more so.

Ria had wanted to be a Companion ever since she was a little girl. She told me about how Skjor and Kodlak fought off the hundred-and-one Orc berserkers, which were probably about forty if you ask Skjor, though Ria thought he was being modest. Modesty wasn’t in large supply at Jorrvaskr though, I found. Boasting was part of the culture, and I imagined half of the stories they told each other had been exaggerated over time, if not all of them. Not that I cared, I loved it.

The freedom the Companions gave each other in stories, they gave each other in almost every part of life.

“Remember when you asked me about Aela and Skjor?” Ria asked one night, deep in her cups.

“Yeah.” It hadn’t been the last time I’d walked in on them, or others for that matter. Athis and Nadja, disdainful as they were of Ria and me, were quite fond of each other — quite loud and often too — Farkas and Vilkas brought women over quite frequently, and I even noticed old Tilma visit Kodlak’s room every so often. I myself had seen Carlotta a few times at her home. Just to have some fun, nothing serious, since she was eyeing a widowed farmer just outside of Whiterun. According to her, he was the only man to treat her and Mila with the respect she deserved. Anyway, I’d kept to myself at Jorrvaskr, focusing on making my name as a Companion. I won’t deny I had my fantasies about some of my shield-siblings, and when things would lead to things, I probably wouldn’t hesitate. Little did I know that those things would come from an unexpected place.

“Torvar’s kind of sweet isn’t he?” Ria asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, surprised at her sudden openheartedness. I’d seen her look at him, of course. Damn, I’d thrown him some looks myself, but Ria had never spoken of him. I’d come to know her as a kind but guarded woman, not much of a talker.

“I was thinking,” she whispered loudly in my ear. “Perhaps we should take him on a job.”

“Just to fight?” I couldn’t help tease her. She always got flustered easily.

“Maybe,” she said, but she bit her lip a little. Drunk Ria was an even worse actor than her sober counterpart.

“Don’t you want him alone?” I grinned.

“Oh- no, I wouldn’t dare.”

“Fine,” I said, feeling rather excited about the prospect, I’ll admit. “We’ll take him… together.”

Ria’s face turned even redder, but she seemed relieved. “Oh-okay, great.”

—

And that’s how our little band of warrior’s expanded. Our first job with the three of us was to the east, right at the border with Eastmarch. A coterie of brigands had moved into Valtheim Towers, an ancient river crossing and pair of watchtowers that would be important if ever the civil war would spill into Whiterun. Torvar was glad to be tagging along. “I’ll admit I’ve been struggling a bit on my own. Hard to make gold when you’re alone.”

“We’re glad to have you,” I said, throwing Ria a smirk.

In the past few weeks we’d gotten more brazen, and this time we just walked right up to the first tower. Oddly though, the door was open, and no one seemed to watch it. As I considered our options, a long scream was followed by the hard thud of a body landing mere feet from the entrance. From the look of his mashed together armour, this was one of our targets. Above us, we heard the clanging of steel.

“Well, looks like the fighting’s already started,” Torvar said.

“Let’s not keep them waiting,” I said.

It had been almost a day of riding, and we were all spoiling for a fight. The noise got louder as we climbed the stairs, and as we stepped onto the wooden walkway that led around the back of the tower, we could see the fighting had spilled out onto the bridge.

The bandits had turned the tide, trapping their three attackers on the bridge. On both ends of the bridge, a handful of the outlaws were rattling their weapons, as one more shot arrow after arrow at the band of warriors. Luckily for them, they were heavily armoured and managed to stand their ground. For now at least.

“Looks like they need a hand,” Ria said.

With a roar we fell upon the bandits holding our side of the bridge, wounded two and threw two others into the river below.

With their backs protected, the warriors in their shining armours charged across the bridge and made short work of the rest of the marauders. Within a few minutes, we cleared our tower, and for the fun of it we threw the rest of our captives off the bridge as well. They lived, but wouldn’t be harassing travelers for a long time.

“What now?” Torvar asked, nodding towards the other tower, now in control of the mysterious warriors.

“Let’s have a talk,” I said.

The others seemed to have the same idea, as one of them started to cross the river with his sword sheathed.

“Greetings,” I started. “We didn’t expect friendly company here.”

“Neither did we,” the young Nord answered, removing his helmet and cowl. His armour was pristine, glittering in the setting sun. His friends on the other side of the river looked the same, dressed in silver and blue. “But we’re thankful for the assistance.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, while jokingly adding: “as long as you don’t intend to claim our bounty.”

He laughed. “You free lances?”

“Companions,” I responded.

His eyes widened for a moment, and his hand grabbed the hilt of his sword.