Even though there aren’t that many people in the small mining outpost of Kynesgrove, most of them head over to the inn later that night. Everyone seems to know what happened up there on the hill, and the townsfolk drag us back out of our room and lead us to a table, laughing and pushing full frothing mugs into our hands. Just like in Morthal, once again Jenassa and I are in the middle of an admiring and grateful crowd.
This time there’s no reason to pace myself, so I happily drink all the mead that’s handed to me as the miners offer toast after toast in our honour. Soon I’m so knackered that I can barely walk. I guess I must’ve made it to the bed somehow, because that night in the Braidwood Inn, as I sleep all warm and cozy next to my wonderful girlfriend, I have the strangest dream.
Continue reading “Chapter 28: Nightmare Fuel”
Jenassa and I ride out from Kynesgrove to pursue the task given to us by the Companions. The sun is warm on our shoulders as we head toward Shor’s Stone, but it’s already past the middle of the day. I’m hoping we can reach our destination before dark and find a decent place to spend the night — although we’ll likely have to settle for a campsite somewhere.
The ground is cracked and fissured with steaming vents that smell of sulfur, creating little pockets of mist. Trees are sparse on this rocky soil, and the rest of the vegetation barely rises above the ground. Unlike the dense pine forests of Falkreath, here we can see a fair distance all around us — but certain predators still have ways of blending into the surroundings before they decide to ambush.
Continue reading “Chapter 29: Mending the Rift”
After a cozy night in our little house in the woods, Jenassa and I head out the next morning as semi-official rangers of the Rift. Our first assignment is to check out the rumours that bandits have taken over the nearby fort. Fort Greenwall is close enough to Shor’s Stone that the villagers are understandably nervous to hear about a large encampment of criminals close by.
We ride out from the ranger cabin as the sun is rising over the hills. Bandits don’t tend to be morning people, so this seems like the ideal time to pay them a visit, like typical nosy next-door neighbours. Next-door neighbours who happen to be armed with deadly weapons. Okay, maybe that’s not so typical.
Continue reading “Chapter 30: Community Service”