A New Calling

After a simple breakfast of bread and cheese, I exited the Bannered Mare to be greeted by grey skies, rain and all round misery. It was relatively early, the traders still setting up their stalls for the day as a stream of people, mostly farmers and farmhands, headed down the slope towards the city gates. Figuring there was no point delaying, I headed up the stairs to Jorrvaskr.

I entered the guildhall, expecting to find everyone at breakfast. Instead, I walked in to see a fistfight, with nearly everyone else standing in a circle around them, urging the fighters on or giving advice. 'Never saw such things back in Chorrol'. As everyone else was watching the fight, I noticed an old lady off to the side, sweeping the floor, shaking her head as she looked towards the fighters. "Excuse me, can you tell me where Kodlak Whitemane is?"

"He's downstairs, dearie."

I wouldn't have called it cosy downstairs but it was certainly the living quarters of the Companions. I tried not to be too nosy, considering I wanted to make a good impression. There were plenty of trophies lining the walls and hallway, bookshelves stacked with numerous texts, mannequins with ancient armour and weapon plaques with swords, axes and maces attached. The treasures along suggested the Companions may be a particularly old guild. I still wondered how I'd never heard of them.

At the end of the hallway were two men, sitting across from each other at a table. One looked like Farkas, so I thought he may have been a brother of the warrior I had met the previous day. The other man, a mane of flowing silver hair, a grey beard that any man would be proud of and a voice, strong and wise, who I assumed was Kodlak Whitemane. I stood back as the two conversed in hushed tones, again not attempting to eavesdrop on what was clearly a private chat. Once their conversation appeared finished, I stepped forward and politely as possible cleared my throat to grab their attention. Farkas looked me up and down, and while I wouldn't say he sneered at my presence, he didn't look impressed.

"Ah, another stranger comes to our hall," Kodlak stated, I figured as a way of greeting.

"My name is Ragnar, sir, and I wish to join the Companions."

The other man scoffed while Kodlak nodded in silence. "Would you now?" he wondered.

"Yes, sir."

"Sir?" he asked, smirking, "How… polite." He got to his feet, eyes meeting my own, as he circled around me. I didn't realise how tall he was until he stood up. While there was no doubting his advanced age, I could already feel the aura surrounding him. It was strange. "Hmmm. Yes. You certainly look the part," he stated, grabbing my sheathed sword, "But you have worked before?" he continued to question, now standing in front of me.

I nodded. "I worked with the Chorrol Fighter's Guild for some time back in Cyrodil. I ended my time there as one of the Grandmaster's trusted lieutenants."

"Convenient that can't be verified," the other man stated. I ignored the jibe. 'Perhaps it is just a test to not react?'

"And now you are in Skyrim and wish to join us?" Kodlak asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Interesting…"

"Master," Master? "You're not seriously considering accepting him, are you?"

Kodlak turned and resumed his seat, shaking his head at the other man. "I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last time I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr waiting for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Apologies, Harbinger," Vilkas added, before looking my way, "But we've never even heard of this outsider. He's probably just some milk-drinker from Cyrodil."

"Do you believe you are honourable, Ragnar?" Kodlak asked.

"I believe I am, sir."

"And you fight with courage in battle?"

"I'm not dead yet, sir. And that's not through running away."

Kodlak turned to Vilkas. "Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fortune, Vilkas. We may not know of this outsider, of this Ragnar, but they may tell tales of his life across the rest of Tamriel. What matters most is his heart."

"And his arm," Vilkas muttered.

"How are you in battle?" Kodlak.

"Confident but there is always more to learn. Every day in Chorrol, I learned something new. Whether it was a new sword technique, or correct breathing when using a bow. Or simply a new piece of armour that could end up saving my life one day."

Kodlak nodded. "An admirable attitude. The downfall of many warriors is over-confidence. Trust in your heart and your arm but never overestimate your own abilities. I've seen many of our own succumb to rash decisions." He turned to Vilkas. "Vilkas, take Ragnar outside and give him the test." He looked at me. "It's nothing arduous. If you are honest, and have fought with other guilds, then you should at least convince Vilkas that you would be worthy of joining our ranks."

I convinced Vilkas after a good sparring session, the warrior not saying much but I knew enough about body language and figured I had impressed him… enough, at least for the time being. That earned me the names 'New Blood' and 'Whelp'. I'd been called worse before so took that as another sign that he'd accepted me. Of course, being the whelp, I soon found myself being given a series of odd-jobs, none very exciting. Take a sword here. Deliver a shield there. Fetch the mead. Those sort of things. However, I did have the opportunity to speak to Eorlund Gray-Mane up at the forge later that day. Or, as I found out from the man himself, something he worked on called the 'Skyforge'. I didn't know what made it any different to a regular forge, it certainly didn't look any different, but Eorlund assured me the steel it made was special. As someone who looked experienced in how the Companions was set up, I inundated him with questions, and his knowledge was vast. I learned of someone called Ysgramor, no idea who that was, but apparently he was the first and only leader of the Companions. Kodlak was what was called the Harbinger, not a leader, more of an advisor to the rest of the group. Other than that, each member of the Companions answered only to themselves. As long as they fought with honour, there were no real problems. I'll be honest, it sounded ideal.

My first day with the Companions ended in Jorrvaskr, sitting with the rest of the group at the ring of tables surrounding around the large fire, enjoying a meal and the first of many bottles of mead. Aela was happy to see that I had taken her advice and that I approached the group to join them, exaggerating the story of the fight against the giant. While I don't think they believed her, there was at least an element of truth to it. Whatever the case, the night ended after much laughter, singing and drinking, staggering into a bed downstairs once the fire had all but extinguished.

The next morning dawned with the sun shining again. And with the sun out came my first real job. Nothing particularly dangerous and it was local at least.

"You just need to rough them up a little bit. Intimidate them. But don't kill them. The contract will be forfeit and you'll earn no coin if you do," Farkas explained as I strapped on my armour.

"May as well leave my weapon here, then."

"No, take it just in case. If the target pulls a weapon, then you have the right to defend yourself. But, still, try not to kill them."

I nodded that I understood. "Who's the target?"

"Some local milk-drinker by the name of Nazeem. I don't know him well, but he's a Redguard. I would normally have urged caution on that fact alone, but from what I know of this man, he's grown fat and lazy. So you shouldn't have too much of an issue handing him a beating."

"Where will I find him?"

"He's owns a farm on the outskirts of Whiterun – Chillfurrow. If you don't find him in town, you'll find him there."

"Will guards get involved if it's public?"

"Only if weapons are drawn. They will usually turn a blind eye to fistfights."

"Good to know."

I enjoyed a good stretch and yawn as I exited the hall, shading my eyes from the sunlight until they adjusted to the brightness of the day. The priest was again shouting his sermon for anyone and everyone to hear. I recognised two others dressed in the brown robes of the priesthood sitting next to a withered tree, noticing for the first time the Temple of Kynareth opposite of Jorrvaskr.

The market was once again a hub-bub of activity, merchants shouting out deals on their wares for sale, while throngs of people moved from stall to stall, some browsing, others chatting with the merchants or amongst themselves. The town guard kept watch, some standing guard to the side, others weaving their way through the crowds. 'Probably on the lookout for thieves.' I didn't notice any Redguard males in the area so figured I would ask around. It wasn't long until I was pointed in the direction of Chillfurrow Farm itself.

It appeared the Jarl had relaxed his order regarding access to and from Whiterun as the city gates were now open though I still counted at least a dozen town guard keeping watch, half of them on the walls above, eyes on the horizon. I had overheard no talk of dragons or dragon sightings, so was left wondering what had led to the dragon attack on Helgen. It was obvious the creatures had returned but where were they? I tried not to think about it too much as it was up to Jarls, the Empire and or the Stormcloaks to deal with that problem. I was just glad to have survived such an ordeal.

The farms I passed were once again hives of activity, fields upon fields of wheat, potatoes, cabbage and all other sorts of vegetables being grown, most, I assumed, being sold in Whiterun markets. The meadery sitting at the crossroads appeared to be open though there was no traffic in and out of the building, leaving me wondering what the deal with the business was. I'd heard one or two mentions about Honningbrew at the tavern a couple of nights back, and the general consensus was that the mead they produced was of good quality. 'May have to pop in for a tankard later.'

Across the bridge and I had been told Chillfurrow was the first farm on the left. The farm wasn't as busy as the others I had passed before, only one or two farmhands working the fields. A large man was leaning against a post nearby, turning upon hearing my approach. I got straight to business.

"Is Nazeem in?"

"Aye. He is. What do you need him for?"

"I'm here to sort out an… issue. On behalf of the Companions."

The man grinned. "I understand. We won't come running. The front door is open. Just don't kill him. This work keeps my family fed."

"We don't work that way. He just needs reminding of his obligations."

The man looked ready to laugh, instead just clearing his throat, a smirk on his face as he walked away towards his workers. I turned and walked towards the small farmhouse, opening the door. Nazeem was sat at a table to my left, looking over a large book. 'Probably some sort of manifest.' He looked up upon hearing the door open. "Help you with something?"

"You won't know who I am, but I am here on behalf of the Companions. Do you know why I would be here?"

The Redguard stared at me silently. I figured he would do one of two things. Either nod his head in understanding or be uncooperative. After thirty seconds, he chose option two. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Listen, I can either walk out of here with your understanding to do what is necessary, or… well, you should know what I'll do otherwise."

He stood up. He wasn't as tall as I was. He was also clearly overweight. Too many years of comfort eating and idleness. I thought he was a fool. He proved it with his next few words. "You have no right to talk to me that way. I have the ear of Jarl Balgruuf. I am important man in this city. Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"So we're doing this the hard way?"

The swing he sent my way was so obvious, all I had to do was take a step back. His swing caused him to slightly lose balance, leaving him open for a counter-attack. A quick flurry of punches into his gut and kidneys left him on the ground on his knees, gasping for breath. It was far too easy. 'If my contracts are this easy going forward…' I could have stood over him and mocked him for his pathetic display, but that wasn't the point. I had a job to do. "Now that you've gotten that out of your system, let me ask you again. Do you know why I'm here?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"So you know what to do?"

He nodded again. "I'll make sure it is sorted by the end of the day."

"Good. I don't particularly want to come back again."

With that not so subtle warning, I walked out of the farmstead. The farmhand I'd spoken to earlier was leaning against his post once again, looking my way. I nodded silently, he returned the gesture. "I'll go and check on him in a couple of minutes," he added.

I reported back to Farkas that the deed was done. He didn't seem overly impressed but was happy enough that the contract was complete and that coin would soon head my way. I was still a whelp, though, but he mentioned I would soon be given a task that would herald my confirmation as a member of the Companions.

So the next few days were spent either in or around Jorrvaskr, in the woods surrounding Whiterun and even heading to the forests around Riverwood, hunting elk and deer for their fur and meat, or completing some minor contracts for the Companions, mostly just what Farkas called 'hired muscle', generally intimidating someone into completing a request. Like usual, it always seemed to involve someone owing coin to someone else.

I also spent time getting to know the local inhabitants of the city, figuring I may be staying for the foreseeable future, already enjoying life with the Companions and feeling no real desire, as yet, to move on. Most were simple people, struggling to survive, supporting their families and children, yearning for a better life but making do with what they had. I was left in little doubt that life in Skyrim was tough, but the people were tougher, as far as I was concerned. I got to know quite a few of them by drinking in the Bannered Mare of an evening, regaling those who chose to listen to stories of Chorrol and my time in the Fighter's Guild. There were exaggerations at times but I'd certainly proven myself capable as a fighter. Many of them were aware of my position within the Companions, numerous jokes at my expense about 'simply fetching the mead for the real warriors'.

It was around a week later that Skjor approached me outside Jorrvaskr as I was putting a series of iron arrows into a nearby target. I sensed he was watching me, and I'll admit I found him watching me slightly unnerving, so finished the last arrow in my quiver before giving him my complete attention. I hadn't spoken much to Skjor since joining up with the Companions. I wouldn't have called the man intimidating, but he certainly had a presence. The others spoke in hushed tones of his previous life, about the contracts he had completed but also of the respect he had for the Companions way of life and for the Harbinger.

"Ragnar, your time has come."

"My time?"

He gestured towards the nearby table, suggesting we should sit down. Once settled, he continued. "A scholar has visited us in the past week. Do you know much about the history of the Companions?"

I shrugged. "A little. Eorlund explained the basics. I would have asked the Harbinger, but wouldn't want to bother the man with my questions."

Skjor nodded. "Understandable but the Harbinger is always willing to explain who we are, what we do and why. I'm sure you've been told about Ysgramor and his Companions, correct?" I nodded. "Ysgramor carried a weapon known as Wuuthrad. Centuries ago, Wuuthrad was lost and broken into pieces. The Companions have been searching since then for pieces to eventually reforge the weapon. It is a point of pride."

"Has a piece been found?"

"It is possible. The scholar believed so. We generally work on rumours alone but the honour of the Companions demands that we seek it out."

"Okay, what do I need to do?"

"Good. I'm glad you're eager. This will be known as your 'Trial'. Carry yourself and act with honour, fight with courage and you will become a true Companion."

"Will I be completing this trial alone?"

"No. Farkas will be your Shield-Sibling on this venture. Try not to get him killed."

"I'll do my best."

"Very good. Seek out Farkas and he will explain the rest of what is expected."

I found Farkas inside with his brother, both turning my way as I took a seat nearby. "Skjor informed me this morning that you will finally have your Trial," Vilkas stated. I nodded. "Good. You've performed well so far with the jobs you've been given. But this will be a true test of your skill."

"We will leave at first light," Farkas added, "We head to Dustman's Cairn."

"Where's that?"

The two brothers shared a look. "You don't have a map?" Vilkas finally asked.

"Never needed one before."

"How did you manage to get from Chorrol to Skyrim?"

"It was a matter of following a couple of major roads and asking for directions if I got a little bit lost. I'll admit I had no idea how vast Skyrim was, though. Whiterun Hold itself is enormous."

"I'd suggest you buy a map from one of the shops in town. Perhaps Belethor will have one, though considering his prices…" Farkas added, "You can buy either a map of Skyrim, which will only show major routes and town, or you can buy a map of only the hold itself, which will detail most major points, such as forts and ruins. There's plenty out there for an adventurer such as yourself to explore. You'll just want to watch your back. Plenty of bandits, mercenaries and wild animals ready to kill you without hesitation."

"Do you have a horse?" Vilkas asked.

I shook my head. "Never been able to afford one."

"No matter," Farkas added, "We can travel by foot. There are roads leading directly to our destination."

"I would also consider some new armour, if you can afford it," Vilkas continued, "Simple leather won't suffice for what you may find in some of these ruins."

"Does Eorlund make armour?"

"He does, but only for members of the Circle," replied Farkas, "But Adrianne down at Warmaiden's is where some of us usually buy armour when we need a new piece. She's an excellent blacksmith. Some of her weapons are nearly as good as Eorlund. Just don't let the old man hear you say that."

"I'll head there right away."

It was late afternoon, the sun still shining but starting to dip over the horizon and there was a slight chill in the air. I was already used to the weather in Skyrim, by how much cooler it was that back in Cyrodil. I liked it, particularly in the mornings when the fields were covered in frost and the sunshine caused it to almost twinkle in the low light. The first stop I made was at the general store run by Belethor. He had a number of maps for sale, eventually picking one of just Whiterun Hold itself, figuring that I probably wouldn't be travelling too much farther afield, at least for the next few months or weeks.

Next stop was Warmaiden's. Thankfully Adrianne was still working at her forge, hammering away at a piece of iron. "Can I help you?" she asked as I approached.

"I hope so. I'm after some new armour."

She stopped hammering and looked me up and down, nodding to herself. "I recognise you. Seen you walk past every now and then. You're with the Companions?"

"Yes. I'm Ragnar," I replied, offering my hand. She accepted. 'Strong grip. Wouldn't want to mess with this woman.' "My trial is tomorrow. It was suggested that I should come see you before that."

"Hmmm. It's too short notice to make you something new right now, but we have plenty of pieces inside."

"We?"

"My husband runs the shop. Come on, I'll show you what we have."

Three of the four walls were covered in all sorts of weapon and armour. Some of the sets looked incredibly detailed, well maintained and, probably most importantly, prohibitively expensive. Behind the counter was an enormous man. "This is my husband, Ulfberth," Adrianne stated.

"Well met, kinsman," he stated, offering his hand. His grip was also strong, figuring he could crush my hand without thinking if he wanted to.

"The armour is against this wall," Adrianne explained, "We have all sorts available but the most important question is; do you prefer light or heavy?"

"Light."

"Lightly armoured means light on your feet. Smart. So, you don't want leather. Understandable as it doesn't exactly offer a lot of protection. How much coin do you have?"

"To be honest, not a lot but I'm hoping we could come to some sort of deal."

"Hmmm. Well, let's see what I've got." I waited patiently as she rifled through piles of clothes and armour. "Ah, here we are. Have you heard of scaled armour?" I shook my head. "It's a fusion of leather, steel and corundum. But the metal within is thin and nowhere near as heavy as still plate, so allows more manoeuvrability. Just remember that this lightness does come with a price to personal safety, though. Are you sure you don't want something heavier?"

"I'm sure. I only used light armour when I worked with the Guild back in Chorrol."

"You're from Chorrol? I would have thought you'd be from Bruma?"

"My father was a Nord. My mother was Cyrodilian. I lived on a farm on the outskirts of Chorrol until my mother passed."

"What brings you to Skyrim?"

I shrugged. "I guess you can say I felt drawn to my homeland and I didn't want to work on a farm for the rest of my life."

"Good a reason as any."

"Can I grab some headgear at the same time. I'll keep my leather boots and braces but better head protection may be a good idea."

"Tell you what, you buy this scaled armour off me and I'll throw a scaled helmet in for free. Sound good?"

"Sounds great! How much?"

She turned to her husband. "What do you think, Ulfberth?"

The giant of a man scratched his chin. "Hmmm. Let's see… He's a kinsman. Fights with the Companions, which is an honourable path. And is definitely going to need something like this for his trial. I think we can let him have it for, say, a hundred gold coin. Does that sound fair?"

I whistled, nodding to myself before I took the coin pouch from my waist, placing it on the counter. "Think you'll find that's exactly what I had."

"Excellent," Adrianne stated, handing over the armour and helmet, "Thanks for shopping at Warmaiden's. You need anything else, drop by and I'll see what I can do."

Farkas was surprised by the fact I had purchased light armour, figuring I would purchase armour similar to him and his brother, though said little else except that I should not drink too much that evening and to get an early night.

We would leave at first light.