Moon light fell upon the ancient ruins that housed the capital city of The Reach. It’s bustling streets now lay silent and empty, leaving only the sound of the waterfalls and the heavy steps of patrolling guards. These ghostly nights had become a common occurrence in Markarth, ever since the mandatory curfew was placed. Unless you wore the uniforms of the Stormcloaks, you were to be indoors by nightfall. Anyone caught outside or without a place to stay past curfew would be forcefully escorted to Cidhna Mine.
Such was life in Markarth. For outside the walls, The Forsworn threat had grown larger with every passing day. These new laws led to establishments like
The Silver Blood Inn to be crowded by refugees and vagabonds alike. Rooms would be given to the highest bidders, while the rest had to fight over stools and chairs. Those unfortunate enough to get neither had to settle for a space along the cold stone walls. The proprietors did not seem to mind housing well over capacity. With outside commerce dwindling each day, they couldn’t afford to turn anyone away; so long as they were a paying customer.
Seated at a round wooden table near the bar were three patrons. A Breton couple both dressed in common garb, and a Nord mercenary clad in leather armor. Though things had started off peaceful, the three were engaged in a heated argument.
“You can’t be serious! We agreed upon 500 septims!” The Breton man nearly screamed at the merc, but did his best to keep his voice down so as to not cause a scene and risk upsetting the old couple who ran the inn.
“The price has gone up.” The Mercenary stated. He leaned back in his chair and took a drink from his mug of mead, completely unphased at the anger of the Breton. “I’m not going to risk fighting The Forsworn for a standard fee. 2000 septims. Up front.”
“Please,” The Breton woman begged. “We already sold everything we had to pay the original fee! We can’t afford what you’re asking.”
“That’s not my problem.” The mercenary scoffed, looking into his mug as if he had lost all interest in the conversation. “You should consider yourselves lucky I’m even offering. There’s not another soul in the city willing to venture outside the walls. Either come up with the coin or accept that you’re stuck here.” He stood up from his chair and simply walked away, turning his back to the helpless couple. “Everyone else has.”
“What are we going to do? We gave up everything for this.” the husband placed his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. His wife wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to comfort him, while she fought back tears of her own.
As the couple sat there, overcome with grief at their predicament, the sound of metal boots clashing against the stone floors announced the approach of one of the other patrons. Another Nord, though this time one suited in steel plates, took the recently vacant seat at the table. He placed his mug down, and waited for the couple to compose themselves before he addressed them.
“I overheard your conversation.” He said, resting his arms on the table. “Can’t say I’m surprised you’re wanting to leave Markarth. This entire hold has seen better days, even during the war. But I must ask, why now?” His eyes darted back and forth between the couple, only focusing on one when they spoke.
The husband cleared his throat before speaking. His voice still shaking after the previous conversation. “My wife and I used to run one of the stands in the market, but ever since The Forsworn started ravaging this area, hardly anyone comes through here. The Stormcloaks have been confiscating all the supplies that do make it here, and anything leftover goes to the Silver Blood’s and their businesses. It was already hard enough to compete with them before all this. But now? It’s simply impossible.”
“I can understand that.” The Nord said with a subtle nod. “But why not offer to work for them? The Silver Bloods aren’t known to turn their noses up at cheap labor. Between the two of you, you should make enough to at least get by.”
“That’s… Not going to be an option I’m afraid.” the husband slowly turned to look at his wife, who in turn lowered her eyes down to her dress. The Nord raised an eyebrow as he followed their gazes. It was hard to see at first, but as his focus was now drawn to the wife, he could make out the subtle bump of her stomach pushing out.
“I see…” The Nord let out a deep sigh now that he knew the full extent of their situation.
“My brother lives in Solitude.” The wife explained, slowly lifting her head towards the Nord. “If we could get there we’d be able to stay with him until we get back on our feet. Start a new life in a place where our child won’t have to live in fear.” She grabbed her husband’s hand, determination echoing in her words. “But we’re not warriors. We wouldn’t last a day on our own.”
The Nord raised his hand from the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes shut tight as he tried to fight the urges in his mind. Along with The Forsworn, there were still wolves, bears, trolls, all manner of beasts running wild on those roads. He knew what the couple had to offer. It wasn’t enough for the risk of traveling in The Reach. There was no way he could do this. And yet-
“Can you manage 600?” He asked, lowering his hand and resuming his soft stare at the couple.
“Excuse me?” the husband nearly choked in surprise.
“200 now, 300 when we reach the gates of Solitude. It’s about a 3 day journey from here, so use whatever septims you have left to buy supplies, and something to arm yourselves. If you can manage that,” The Nord removed his arms from the table and sat up straight. “I’ll take you through The Reach.”
“Y-yes! We should be able to manage that!” the husband could barely contain his disbelief.
“Good.” The Nord stood up and looked down at the couple as he explained the plan. “We’ll meet at the market in the morning. I’ll help you buy what you need. I should be able to convince the guards to open the gates for us, but once we’re outside the city, there will be no turning back. Understood?”
“Understood! Thank you so much! We cannot begin to express how grateful we are!” Excitement lit up in the couple’s eyes.
The Nord stayed for a moment and watched as the couple laughed and embraced each other. Though they had a dangerous journey ahead of them, they finally had a chance at a better future. They had hope again. Knowing that he had brought them that feeling was worth more than any amount of septims. The Nord cracked a smile, and turned to take his leave when he heard the wife call out.
“Wait! We never introduced ourselves.” She said. “I’m Calinna Beleav, and this is my husband Theore. What do we call you?”
The Nord looked over his shoulder back at them. “Holgarth Hammer-Song. Now get some rest. You’re going to need it.”