Stendarr have mercy. That was the plea that had escaped from Mortalmo’s lips in the moments leading to his reunion with the lizard. With a few final parting words to Solandil and Anifaire, the elder of the three altmer steeled himself, before forging ahead towards Judena. It seemed that for whatever reason, the gods had brought him to her once again. By Oblivion, the divines were inscrutable sometimes. Reaching the argonian, and resisting the overwhelming urge to gag, Mortalmo began to extend a gloved hand in her direction, then thought better of it. The arm fell limply back to his side. “I will admit... I did not expect to see you again.” No. Rather, he had actively prayed for her demise. He swallowed, the barest of smiles twitching onto his face. “It is a testament to your... tenacity.” Even the lowliest of creatures were capable of impressive acts, when driven by the most basic of instincts: the will to live. Eyes sliding to Judena’s left, they came to focus on the diminutive nordic figure of Megana. Indeed, Mortalmo towered over the youth by a significant margin. “You and I did not speak much, but, Megana, is it? Clearly, the gods have gathered all of us here together for a reason.”
What that reason was, Mortalmo couldn’t say. Though he misliked this odd fall of fate. He liked the lizard even less. Perhaps there was something to be done about this. Perhaps.
“Yeah, it’s Megana, though Meg’s fine too.” The young Nord was surprised to see the eldest of the Altmer had decided to come her and Judena’s way. “Nice t’see the three of you.” Nice perhaps was pushing it a little, but it was fair to say she was happy they were alive. Keeping the expression on her face pleasant, she looked to the older Argonian, wondering how her companion would take this surprise meeting.
Judena braced herself at his approach, unable to discern why Durantel was seeking them out. They arrived after Rhea’s initial assessment of Skingrad. Her ‘beard’ was wrinkly and flat against the base of her neck, a red scaled hand gripped the staff of her spear. It saw more use as a walking stick as of late before it was used to hunt. His general pleasantries were unexpected while Judena had grown to dislike his company initially, there was no call to outright ignore him. “Hello, Durantel. Well met, alive and in one piece. Meg and I were about to leave to restock our food stores. Hunt for remaining game, forage for anything else we can find. There is only so much sunlight left to the day so we must be going.”
Any extended conversation was still beyond her interest. “Come my young friend, we can hopefully set some lines while we find a ripe berry bush.” Judena patted Meg’s shoulder, squinting pleasantly at the nord. “I trust we will be successful.”
“Mhm,” Meg agreed, glad for the chance to skedaddle and shorten the awkward meeting. “Berries sounds lovely just about now.”
Well. This was to be expected, Mortalmo supposed. Judena’s reception to his statements hadn’t quite been icy, but her behavior was cold nonetheless. “Wait,” Divines. What was he doing? “I have misjudged the both of you. Especially you, Judena. I chide myself. This is not Alinor. To expect golden eyes and faces everywhere the head turns is beyond foolish. You both handled yourselves exceptionally within that mountain, and your presence here before me is yet another testament to your abilities. The attack on the capital was both swift and brutal.” Mortalmo resisted the urge to clench his hands into tight fists, lest the knuckles crack and pop. What nonsense was he spewing? The lowliest of cowards are capable of flight. Even a lone skeever can become formidable when joined with the rest of its clan. The wretches he spoke to at current were nothing. Yet, all he did was bow his head a slight. The barest inclination of shame. Let them think he felt some degree of remorse for his prior vitriol. Let them think that it pained him to the bone to admit fault. So he tensed his shoulders, allowed the difficulty of his utterances to spread across his countenance. Painful it was, but not for the reasons he hoped they would suspect. “Whatever truths I may hold within my heart, I cannot deny that trying times are indeed upon us. I wish to foster a more productive relationship. Allow me to join the two of you. Long have I ventured Skyrim with little but my own thoughts for company. I am certain that the two of you will be grateful for my assistance.”
Durantel using her name respectfully grabbed her attention anew, Judena looked up to the Altmer he was stiff and tense, he would not be easily brushed off. More importantly he was taking this seriously. She only took a moment to think before replying. “The flight from the Imperial City was truthfully not without loss. Now that you, Anifaire and Solandil have rejoined us I am hoping to share notes of the attack with Anifaire. She was a valuable source of information during the expedition on Jerell Mountain.”
Judena gestured to him, her tone was even - if not a little hesitant. “More so, I appreciate your brooching for civility. I have travelled across all the great provinces of Tamriel and you are not the first Altmer I have met who struggles to work with others, judgement based on mere existence is a familiar theme.” She pat her chest, gesturing to her person. “While distrust of Mer is a familiar theme among my people. We must all make strides to reach beyond preconceived notions, yes? If you sincerely wish to join us to help find food today, I will not object.” She inclined her head then turned to Meg. “If you object Meg, I am sure we can come to a compromise if you feel otherwise but if we are all to stick together we must first take these steps together.”
“I believe Durantel is being sincere.”
“If you’re fine with it then so’m I.” Meg smiled at Judena before looking to the Altmer. The smile remained, though her eyes were uncertain, as if she was sizing him up and trying to read into what he was really thinking. She truly wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but after what she had witnessed earlier in the camp, the sheer disdain the two Altmer had for the poor refugee family… well, she was having a rather hard time being generous with her good will. Meg had never been the sort to judge others by their race, but continuously witnessing unpleasantries was forcing her to wonder if that was simple naivety on her part.
Still, she was stubborn; the last thing she wanted was to change the way she looked at things because of others. Maybe all the misfortune and tragedy that had occurred had actually given the Altmer a different perspective on life. She would give Durantel a chance to redeem himself in her eyes… eyes which would be scrutinizing the way he acted towards her friend.
And that was how Mortalmo found himself venturing into the woodland, foraging for food, in the company of animals. It was almost too easy, how willing they were to accept his company. Even if the nord did not seem entirely convinced. It was only natural, given the relationship between men and mer; rarely did a predator fraternize with its prey. Yet, that was exactly what Mortalmo was doing. Food they would find indeed. Perhaps the lizard herself would become a meal for the worms.
“Judena,” Mortalmo began. The trio had been walking in a silence that was barely a stone's throw away from tense, and the mer decided that perhaps polite conversation would go a long way towards easing the pressure in the surrounding air. “I beg a thousand pardons if I speak not from ignorance, but forgetfulness, yet I am curious, just how long has this world been known to you?” He glanced sidelong at the argonian, her vibrantly crimson scales in a sharp contrast to the rusty red coloration of his own patchwork cloak. He decided that at the soonest possible convenience, the purchase of a new cape would have to be arranged. Indeed, Mortalmo’s attire as a whole, though not unclean, was drab and worn. All the better for maintaining anonymity, though it did little for his pride. He busied himself then by scanning the surrounding greenery, listening for Judena’s reply.
The odd trio was making a ways away from the refugee camp heading into quieter forested woods outside Skingrad. Judena struggled to remember if they had passed a stream on their way here, fishing was among her strongest skills besides Alteration, of course. Her logbook was tucked into her shirt but the way was untrodden and it wasn’t prudent to check notes while she needed to be surefooted.
She glanced to Durantel, “No need to beg for pardons, curiosity - as my former colleagues once taught me - should never need forgiveness. Pursuit of knowledge is a reward in of itself!” Judena replied with a bit of cheer. “It was my Name Day just this past twenty-eighth of Rain’s Hand. It is difficult to tell with Argonians, but I am sixty-one.”
“May I ask how long you have lived, Durantel? It is difficult to tell for Argonians but next to impossible for Mer.” She commented, “If you do not mind sharing, of course.”
“No, I do not.” His voice had grown the slightest bit quieter. “I was but a boy when the Oblivion Crisis ravaged Tamriel. When that foul thing Mehrunes Dagon staged his otherworldly invasion.” He spat the words out, voice rising and then falling. A long sigh seeped out from his lungs. “My mother and father both fell to the demons, but my baby brother I was able to save. I am aged two centuries, two decades, and five years.” He turned to look at Judena properly, amber stones boring through her. “This strife with the automatons worries me more than you know.”
Jude nodded slowly, “It would not take much imagination to understand why the Dwemer’s invasion would worry someone such as yourself.” She said. “Living and breathing witness to history.” She lifted some passing bush with the butt of her spear, checking for blossoms but none bearing fruit. She added gently removing the spear, “I am glad you did not lose your entire family.” Mortalmo resisted the urge to snort. His father was a fool, throwing his life away for nothing. And his brother, too, was little more than a sniveling whelp before Mortalmo whipped him into proper shape. No kin of his would disgrace the new regime. Now, Calcinor was a source of pride, acting as Valentha’s right hand. His mother, though... She, he still missed.
Thoughts of the stream drifted back to her and she asked Meg, whom was a few paces ahead, “I cannot recall if we passed a stream on our journey here. We should head toward it to check for fishing prospects. Please lead the way, my friend.”
Meg stirred at being addressed; she had been listening to Judena and Durantel talking, finding it somewhat fascinating. There was much she didn't know, and this was especially true for knowledge outside of Skyrim. Knowing these two were so much older than her made it even more obvious that before them, she was no more than a mere child. If she had thought Judena was elderly... well, Durantel was as old as a dusty tome in a temple.
"Aye, there was a stream, we passed it a li'l while back." Meg paused in her steps, turning around and pointing with her bow. "That way, not too far from here." She cast a glance at the Altmer, still wary about why he of all people had decided to join them.
No gettin' lazy, she scolded herself. As interesting as their talks were, she had her own responsibility of making sure Judena didn't head the wrong way, and she wasn't going to shirk in it.
“I have not given the future much thought as of late, the Dwemer’s return is unprecedented. The only outcome I am sure of is the Imperial City will never be the same. This is far different from the Great War.” Judena remarked sadly. “I hope the Arcane University remains in tact.” Humming lowly.
“Thalmor bravery, with the grace of Auri-El guiding them, beat back such an invasion before. Their superior tactics and dogged tenacity was instrumental in closing shut the jaws of Oblivion. They will prevail again, I assure you. The Dwemer are no match against the forces of Alinor.” Mortalmo spoke with conviction of an absolute nature.
Judena squinted at Durantel, the Thalmor spin and credit for the ending Oblivion Crisis was objectively
false. She knew the part her people played in the Crisis, she safely assumed Durantel was never taught otherwise. The argonian considered, would it be worth it to enter into a debate of facts to a Mer who lived during those times himself, would brooching it be insensitive? She rumbled in thought. A historical debate would also be a huge distraction. They had food to search for. Perhaps at a fire or when there was time to pass. She glided over the subject, “The conflict was a brave effort on many fronts, naturally there are different perspectives on a singular story. Every Tamrielic culture has remnants and scars still from the Crisis, the largest one by far is the one across Cyrodiil.”
“I have spent time appraising artefacts with dremoric origins in my time, fascinating pieces.” She said scratching at her ‘beard’ thoughtfully.
“I have seen those ‘artefacts’ up close. Vicious blades and twisted plate mail. I cannot claim to find them as intriguing as you.” The lizard’s interest in dremoric artefacts was, in Mortalmo’s opinion, rather juvenile. In fairness to Judena - and it begrudged Mortalmo to admit this, even if only to himself - it was long before her time. He supposed that if he should be in her shoes, the fascination would be far more understandable. “Although,” He began carefully. “I suppose my childhood memories would be ancient history to you.”
She chuckled, a throaty sounding hiss, “True enough, pieces of history no matter their origins are always fascinating to me. History I can hold in my hands,” She brought her hands up imaging a bit of pottery. “To reveal their hidden secrets and stories is a lifelong passion of mine.” Judena felt confident this positive turn in conversation was a good sign. If they could share an interest in history, it would prove a step in the right direction.
“Apologies, Meg I do not mean to exclude you from the conversation. It is far too easy to have me start on historical topics.” Judena said her lips pressing into a smile. “Naturally if anything caught your attention I would be happy to elaborate. Nordic ancient history is rich with folklore and oral stories, bards do well to remember them. I believe I have some written down
somewhere.” Stepping up and over a fallen tree, lifting her tail above the wood, she continued to Meg, “You are an experienced explorer - adventurer of Skyrim. I imagine you have a far better understanding of nordic culture than I will ever have. It is only natural. One is most familiar with their homelands.”
"Oh, don' be silly, don' apologize!" Meg chuckled, turning back to look at Judena and then Durantel. "Honestly, it's all real fascinatin' to me. Most of what I know's of the now, 'less it was somethin' I was goin' after to find in a tomb. J'raij- my partner, he liked givin' each treasure a tale that could've been the truth, but pro'ly wasn't." She paused in speech, eyes looking for the marks she had periodically made on the trees the trio had passed so that they would be able to easily return to refugee camp once they had finished foraging.
Spotting what seemed an obvious notch in a tree trunk, she nodded her head and started forward once more. "My Pa, he was from here. Well, not
here here, but Cyrodiil. Imperial City." She shrugged her shoulder. "He didn' speak much of it though. All I knew growin' up was that somethin' terrible had happened a long time ago. He was more concerned 'bout makin' money than speakin' of the past, I guess. It's nice though... I mean, learnin' more? Knowin' about what was? Kinda makes a person more 'preciative of what they got now… Huh... I wonder if years from now they're gonna tell the tale of when the dwemer came back..."
I hope we're the ones who live t'tell the tale…Judena nodded along to Meg’s remarks, listening, curious to know her thoughts. Admiring the way she freely spoke of her lack of understanding, in Jude’s field of academia no other would admit to their personal ignorance. Jude recognized in Meg a hunger, an important drive.
A visible sneer had rose and fell across Mortalmo’s face over the course of Megana’s statements. Though, he said nothing, a mask of implacability soon enough sliding across his visage. Let the nord remain unaware of the harsh truths of history. Surely ignorance was bliss, and such a small token of fortune was beneath his heed to snatch away.
"Ah, over there." Meg pointed out with her bow, but the sound of the water would have been easy for the other two to hear. "Here's the spring you were rememberin', Judena." She smirked at the argonian. “I don’t think you’re as forgetful as you think!”
Judena came to a stop, struck by Meg’s sincerity. She brightened immediately at the sight of the water. Quietly she walked up beside Meg, “Thank you, my dear friend. You are far too generous and kind with your sentiment, I appreciate it.”
She carried onto the shore searching the waters for movement. She rubbed at her chin, considering the spring, “I will set a line with some bait, I don’t see any fish near the surface right now but we will need to lure them.”
She removed her pack from her back, gently shifting letters and books aside to pull her sewing kit free. Small spools of cotton thread for mending, tucked beside it was a spool of twine. Judena set her open pack aside, she dug some of her dried meat free unspooling the twine.
Deftly tying knots around the small pieces of meat. “The meat will lure the fish close for me to spear them.”
When the length of bait was prepared she set it aside, stepping out of her boots rolling up her pant legs well above her knees. Feeling the grass between the webbing of her toes. Stepping into the water slowly wading in she bent low to tie the line to her toe, letting it freely float several feet deeper into the water. She became still as a statue watching the water.
“It would be prudent for one of you to continue the search for food, but I will need one of you to stay with me. I can focus on fishing but I fear I will forget why I am here in the first place.” Judena asked, her back turned, poised with the spear.
It would seem Auri-El’s grace had not yet left Mortalmo’s side. All that was needed was to draw Megana away from his position - far away - and then he would have free reign to deal with his... lizard problem. “Though I am not unaccustomed to life on the road, my particular set of skills have always been more useful in ensuring coin so that I might purchase a meal, rather than aid me when foraging for one became necessary.” He paused briefly, as if weighing in his mind two options, before speaking again. “Megana, you seem... quicker than me. Though I am confident I could hold my own while isolated, in the event of trouble it seems only logical that we do our utmost to unify. If one of us came across a potential threat greater than our own mettle to face, surely you would return to us sooner.” He spoke matter-of-factly, and not with disdain or contempt, but with the voice of one familiar to taking command.
“You are clearly the best choice to venture deeper into the wood, Megana. Just as I am the best choice to remain here. And... in the odd chance that you should come across some game, you do possess a bow with which to make use of such an opportunity.” He looked between the two of them then. “I would call this matter settled. Or, do you possess reservations?”
Jude turned slowly from her spot, “I have no objections. Meg, have no worries. Durantel and I are okay here for a little while. It is far more important we see to collecting enough food for everyone. You know where to find us, should you run into any problems.” Jude said, giving her friend a reassuring nod. Even if Durantel became sour between now and the time Meg returned Judena felt confident she could deal with his more unpleasant mood swings.
If it was simply her and Judena, Meg wouldn't have thought twice of leaving her and heading deeper into the forest, especially since she would be able to find her way back, and well, the argonian wasn't exactly stealthy or inconspicuous. Durantel was what made her wary. He was a smooth speaker, that was for sure, but she had lived quite awhile among wielders of silver tongues.
Her eyes shifted between the two, uncertainty clear in her eyes, though she finally let out a resigned breath. Judena had spent more than enough years on this world and had traversed more than her through Tamriel, whilst she was really just a chit of a girl in comparison. If the older argonian thought she would be fine, then Meg would trust in her.
"Hmph... well aight then." She looked from Judena to Durantel, green gaze hardening as she tried to figure out why he was so willing to spend time with someone he had previously been openly distasteful toward. "I won' be too long though. Take care, Judena."
Mortalmo looked at Megana with interest that he made no effort to hide. Let her make of it what she would. “I am appreciative of your willingness to cooperate. I have made efforts to assert my goodwill; it is only fitting that you do the same.” Now, perhaps the little skeever should get on with it. He did, after all, have some business to resolve with the scaly wretch between them.
Meg's eyes narrowed even more before she gave way to a softer expression. Perhaps he was right after all. If she wanted and in some way expected him to get along with others, then the same was expected of her. Her doubts were still there- it would take more than a walk and smooth talking to remove those, but her remaining stubborn would prove she was as bad as those she would scorn.
"Right then, a short farewell to y'both." She nodded once at the two older folks, waved her bow and started back into the woods.
Maybe I should start praying more to Mara...
It was difficult to tell how long Meg had been gone, Judena would glance periodically up through the trees to try and discern where the sun was but seeing Durantel off the shore was a visual reminder of what she was to do. She held her post - fish were edging closer but still not close enough. She was patient, never moving an inch. There was no reason to chat, quiet was needed to concentrate and not scare any potential prey away. The meat was soaked through, any flavour leached away.
Mortalmo moved in a quiet, lazy half circle around Judena’s position, eyes to the forest surrounding them. In the event that Megana should return, it would do best for the altmer to look the part of one keeping watch. Eventually, however, fatigue and boredom set in, and he sat himself down on a stone a short distance away from the focused argonian. His back was to her. “Judena,” Mortalmo began softly, so as not to scare away the fish, or disturb the lizard’s focus. “Do you pay credence to the gods?” His own mind was full to the brim with thoughts of his own worshipped deities.
Judena glanced to the side, mulling over the strange question. She answered truthfully, “I do not. The Hist is what I believe in. You would not be the first to attempt to convert me.”
“My wife wanted a traditionally blessed marriage, strange to me as it was. Bretons have almost no customs in common with traditional Argonian ceremony.” She explained, “This of course came as no surprise.”
She glanced at her bag with the letters, deciding best not to dwell. “She is dead, so it no longer matters.” Returning to her task she felt the question was sufficiently answered.
“I do not mean to convert you, scaled one. It was only an inquiry. Nothing more.” Mortalmo tilted his neck back, staring up at the treeline. Speckles of golden light filtered in from between the leaves. They were far from camp, this deep into the forest. Megana, too, would be far away. He sighed. “Do you miss her? Your wife?”
Her gaze returned to the bag, lingering this time. Something in her gut twisted, “I miss her memory, I knew her before my accident and she remains there... forever young.”
“I empathize.” The words surprised him even as they were spoken. He scowled. Empathy for an animal? Just how low had he fallen? Had the years travelling in solitary truly addled his mind to such a foul a degree? And yet, he spoke them all the same. “There is one I hold dear to me. She is separated from me by time and distance. It is likely that she thinks me dead.” A bitter chuckle escaped from Mortalmo’s throat. “There are many I hold close to my heart, separated by both time and distance. I have traded them for isolation, and in turn traded that isolation for... the present company.”
She turned at the waist to fully regard Durantel the best she could as she was. “It is… difficult to continue living when you are severed from the ones you could call home. You could always feel home no matter where you ended up with them. I have always moved from one place to another but with
her there was never feeling like we were rootless.”
“It is difficult to discern what home means, even decades later.” She said quietly, her own golden eyes never strayed from Durantel as she spoke, sincerity unmistakable.
He turned to face Judena then, his back now to the woods, rather than to her. Amber eyes met with golden. He held her in regard for a moment, before finally speaking. “It does not get easier, Judena. When you love someone,” And he paused, his lips pressed into a firm line, before finally continuing. “When you love someone, and you are unable to acquire some degree of closure, that love will always find a way to manifest itself.” Mortalmo’s tone held a degree of fatality to it, as if he spoke of some ill, unavoidable fate.
“I am... sorry for your pain.” This time, he did not sneer, did not scowl. His face was set into a stony frown, and he gazed at Judena with something akin to concern, but, too detached and too aloof to be called such.
Judena’s grip on her spear tightened, she noticed a shift in him unlike before. “As I am sorry for yours as well. There are no words to mend. Time is all the likes of us can hope for.”
“You asked about paying credence to the gods, you pray to statues and I have prayed to the Hist. There will be a day I return to the very pools I was born in, my soul will rejoin the Hist and perhaps my prayers will be answered then I will remember everything.” She said, solemn conviction. “Until then, no other gods would care to hear my prayers.”
“The afflictions of the mind and of the body cannot harry the soul.” He spoke in volumes just louder than that of a mutter. “You will be freed from your terrestrial afflictions. Your soul will escape its physical confines, and go to wherever it must.” The dagger hanging around Mortalmo’s belt suddenly felt very heavy. This entire encounter reeked of wrongness. What a fool he was, conversing with a baser creature as if it was an equal. Still he carried on. To speak of Faewynn and of the others he had lost, even if only indirectly, was like a great burden being lifted from his shoulders. This thing, Judena, knew something of loss.
She understood, even if only to the smallest extent. Because truly, what were decades when matched against centuries? Judena would grow and wither and die and rejoin her beloved Hist. Still Mortalmo would remain.
Maybe though, he could expedite the process for her.
“You said before, Judena, that it is at times difficult for you to go on as you are.” He spoke with greater focus now, even as he coiled with apprehension from within. “How great is the weight that bears down upon you, scaled one?”
The fish was forgotten, she glanced away - ashamed to acknowledge what he was suggesting. What was tethering her in this life? She nervously reached for the ring at her neck, looking to her pack this time seeking comfort from her logbook but her feet were like two heavy stones. “It is fine. There is no weight to a stone carried in the river, not when the true burden is with the water. I have learned how to cope, to move with it.” Lacking all conviction she held earlier in her beliefs, she now barely believed what she said. “There is no cure, nor any hope for it.”
“I wish I was born this way, then perhaps I would not have had known what it is like to live with a whole mind.”
Mortalmo watched on as Judena fidgeted in her place, discomfort evident in her tone. It seemed to him that the argonian was scarcely convinced by her own words. “Stones sink, Judena,” He began to respond, his voice growing more gentle. Almost a cooing. “The river may carry them for a time, but they always come to rest upon that river’s bed. Do not wish for things to have been different. Who you were has grown into who you are now. You would not exist without your affliction.” There was an impercibtle tug at the corner of his mouth. “Yet you do not wish to exist with it. If you hope for an afterlife free of your current ailments, why continue to pursue this avenue of existence?” He leaned forward.
“What is your purpose, Judena?” He frowned. What was his?
Jude heard what he was suggesting, internally recoiling at the thought. He was asking a simple question, but he was failing to understand one very simple fact. She could never drown even if she sunk to the bottom of the river. She looked down to her reflection in the water then up to the Altmer.
“My purpose is to see myself to the end of the river properly. There are no shortcuts, Durantel.” Her feet felt free once again, it was clear to her as the unblemished reflection of herself in the spring. “Who else can write history as I do?” She cracked a classic, gums showing argonian smile.
Ah. So it seemed her mind was made up then. As it happened, so was his. Mortalmo rose from his seat upon the stone, and approached Judena, stopping just shy of two feet away. “I deigned to accompany you and the... nord, to aid myself in resolving something that had been troubling my mind. For quite some time now, the thought had niggled in the back of my head.” Any trace of past benevolence had drained from his cadence. Replacing it was something dubious and inscrutable. “Instead, I found myself disturbed by further confusion, with nary a relief in sight.”
He slowly descended to one knee, so that he and Judena were nearly eye to eye. “Now, however, I believe I have reached some form of consensus with myself.” The hand that had been lingering tantalizingly close to his simple blade’s sheathe extended itself in the argonian’s direction... empty. “I will not endeavor to cause you any further strife.” The statement was as simple as it was genuine. Mortalmo felt something crack and break inside himself. He did not much care for the sensation.
Judena searched his eyes, moments passed. Taking his outstretched hand, giving him a firm shake. “Thank you, Durantel. I believe I will never understand why you felt the need to do so in the first place. Perhaps while we walk on common ground we can also accept we are two completely different creatures.” She gestured to her pack. “If I do not write down our conversation right now, I will likely lose it entirely by dawn tomorrow.”
“By all means.”
Foraging for food wasn't hard. While Meg herself normally spent the gold she earned from selling trinkets for food and a warm bed, there had been many times when the rocky ground had been her bed, the sky her blanket, and the wilderness her food. The forest first wielded a couple of bushes of berries, from which she gladly partook before hacking off a couple of branches and sticking the under her belt. They wouldn't be enough for the group back at the refuge camp, but there was nothing stopping Judena and even Durantel from enjoying the taste of the sweet and tart berries.
She continued on her trek, keeping to a steady pace. Roots and rocks were nothing to one like her who had been sneaking all of her life, be it as a child climbing over walls or under bridges in Riften, or tiptoeing past deadly traps in long forgotten crypts and catacombs. Yet, the worry in her mind seemed much more than it had been in the past. Her hand tightened its grip around her bow; she paused in her step and pressed her hand against the closest tree trunk, letting out a strained breath. Worry, irritation, and then worry once more. For Judena, for Brynja, for Latro... all of her companions.
"Tch." The sound was low, not really audible to Meg's own ears, yet it caused her even more annoyance. She had told herself after J'raij had died that she would keep herself from bonding with people, with growing ties that would inevitably break. Yet she had gone against her own words from that first day at the dwemer excavation site. Finding common ground, making friends, worrying about others- maybe others could turn it off, but it had never been the case for Meg. Companionship and friendship had been something she had sought since as far back as her memories could go.
Focus. It never did good to dwell on the past. None of that would help her find food or find safety. Thoughts were for late night when sleep had disappeared and she was left staring at whatever as above her.
Straightening, she carefully wiped off the small dust and debris that had clung to her free hand. As she did, something caught the side of her eye, causing her to sharpen her gaze.
Hah. A medium sized rabbit had ventured into a good few feet ahead, its little nose twitching as it crept towards a small patch of grass, ever wary of prays. It was nothing big, but meat and meat and a rabbit in a stew would feed at least those who were remaining in the refugee camp. Cautiously Meg reached back, silently pulling an arrow from the quiver. In a fluid movement she had it nocked and aimed, watching the rabbit, waiting for the right moment.
Its head lowered, nibbling at the grass; Meg released the arrow and it hit true to her aim, killing the rabbit almost instantly. Smiling, she stepped into the tiny clearing, reaching down to pick up her kill.
"That there was mine."
Shit! Meg swerved around just in time to see a man jump off a low branch of an old, sturdy tree, landing squarely on his feet.
"You sure 'bout that?"
"Aye."
By the way he looked, he looked a lot like a refugee, what with his disheveled hair and beard and the state of his ragged clothes. Meg reckoned he was hungry so she shrugged her shoulder and motioned towards her kill with her head. "Take it then, I'll just shoot 'nother one for myself."
"How about I take that pretty bow of yours too?" The man stepped forward, a lopsided smile on his face.
"Heh... no, I don' think so." It seemed trusting Durantel had made her senses a little foggy, or perhaps it was the tiredness from the trip the Skingrad, but Meg really hadn't thought the man would end up brandishing a knife at her. "Woah- you sure you want to do that?" A frown found its place on her face. "Take the rabbit an' get goin' 'fore I change my mind!"
"Now, now, don't be greedy." The man took a couple of more bold steps towards her. "I saw that group you came with. You probably have gold stashed somewhere, and I'm betting you'll be headed into Skingrad while the rest of us rot outside."
"You're wrong there, but that ain' here or there." Meg nocked another arrow to her bow and aimed it at the man. "Y'lost you're chance t'get free meat. Now get lost 'else this arrow's gonna find its way in you." Her voice was calm and even, but it was clear by the look in her eyes that she was dead serious.
"Fine, fine," the man drawled out, stepping a few paces back with his hands in the air, one still wielding the knife. "Just gonna warn you though, I know where you lot are. Don't think you're safe, girlie-"
And arrow hit right between his feet, the arrowhead embedded in the dirt a testament to how swiftly it had flown. "One more word an' you're gonna wish that arrow got you.
Get. Lost.Meg stayed as she was for the next few minutes, a new arrow nocked. The man had left, slinking away and probably planning his next ambush, or perhaps a stupid vendetta against her. It was true what her father had once said: hard times brought out the best and worst of people. She didn't know which sort of person she was, but she did know if someone threatened her or her group, she wouldn't hesitate again to take them down.
It was after shooting another rabbit that Meg finally decided it was time to return to the stream. She had wasted enough time as it were. How were Judena and Durantel getting along? Hopefully the Altmer was still calling her by her actual name and not any demeaning slurs-
A sudden sound to her left had her turning, just in time to see the man bear down on her, knife aimed to strike. Unable to counter the attack, she lifted her arm to stop the blade, hissing in pain as the knife stabbed into her forearm. "You piece of shit." Her free hand had already reached for her sword, pulling it sharply from its sheath, and with the same momentum slicing at the man. "You idiot. Shoulda tried t'kill me from far."
Meg pulled her sword away from the man and stepped back, breathing heavily. He wasn't dead yet, but she had sliced his abdomen, and from the foul smell she could tell his intestines hadn't been spared. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the knife out of her arm.
Hopefully someone can fix this up...By the time she had bandaged up the wound and picked up the fallen rabbits, the man was dead. Meg barely spared him a glance as she started back on her trail, ignoring the searing pain in her arm as she followed the notches she had made in the trees. When she could finally hear the telltale sound of water, she smiled, albeit tiredly.
"Nice t'see you lot again.”
Judena looked up from her logbook, a few pages later of written account including her thoughts and feelings. She looked down and the bait was still tied to her foot. “Oh… Oh Meg I am sorry, I did not catch anything. I simply could not put off writing something down. It is no one’s fault but my own.” She looked significantly to Durantel. Unsure whether to share any details. The barest shake of his head was the only acknowledgement cast her way.
She finished a sentence then snapped her logbook closed to stand. “It seems you were far more successful than I. Excellent work!”
"Aye, thanks," Meg replied, looking at the two, a little surprised but pleased. At least they were both safe and sound.
“I was keeping an eye all the same. The fish were not cooperative today.” Mortalmo looked Megana up and down. “You are injured. Is the assailant dead?” He assumed the wound could be attributed to some altercation, rather than simple stupidity on the part of the nord. Although, he would not be entirely surprised to hear she was the victim of her own carelessness.
“Very much,” Meg replied, a look of annoyance crossing over her face as she took of the man who had tried to rob her. “Didn’ have t’be that way but he chose t’be stupid.” She cast a glance towards the stream before continuing. “We can come back for fish t'morrow, maybe even head further down the stream, maybe take 'nother path or somethin'?” For the time being though, she really wanted her arm properly taken care of.
“I agree, let us head back… Where is back again?” Judena asked, looking between her two companions.
“I can lead the way, Judena.” Mortalmo gestured vaguely in the direction that he knew would take them back to camp, before heading that way himself. He said, “I believe Megana had also been marking trees during our travel. We are unlikely to find ourselves lost.”
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