I woke up, cold. The furs. I forgot to wrap myself up in my blankets. I look out a window. The sky's turning grey in the early morning light. It looks like it's around 4 in the morning. Having went to bed fairly late at night, I probably got around 4 and a half hours of sleep. Not an especially small amount, but less sleep than I'm used to here.
I get my gear ready, before packing it all up, and heading to the bathhouses Lydia showed me yesterday. It was still early in the morning, so not a whole lot of people were about. The only people around were lamplighters and guards. That was something else I noticed about this world. The game never had lampposts in any of the cities, except for maybe Solitude. Braziers, torches, and posted candles dominated the lighting in the city centers and streets of the cities in the game.
These lampposts were wooden, and weren't very aesthetically pleasing, but they did get the job done. Braziers were used all around in the city, but it looks like they're being more used as heating sources rather than a source of light. These nights were cold, after all.
I quickly head to the men's side of the bathhouses, and clean myself up, using a bar of soap worth 7 gold I buy from Belethor's. Thank God his store was a 24-hour store on weekdays. Strangely enough though, it wasn't him at the counter but Sigurd, who rung me up quickly. After bathing and cleaning myself, I dry myself off and warm up by casting Flames on me. Then, I put on my gear, and head to the gates, where I wait for Lydia.
• • •
Lydia sits up, groaning. She has a headache so bad right now, that it feels like the only thing she could do was to break it, in order to stop the pain.
She makes a fist and knocks directly into her forehead, upon which she experiences even worse splitting pains. Since she couldn't do anything for it immediately, she decides to just figure out what she was going to do today.
It was definitely related to a person. 'Who was it', Lydia was thinking, 'and how did I get here'? It was someone extremely important to her, someone she'd been training almost her entire life to meet and serve.
"My Thane!" She exclaims as she realizes who it was she was supposed to meet. 'It was my Thane. Okay, alright. Now where was I supposed to meet him and when?'
She couldn't figure it out for a while, until she remembers that she has a desk. Lydia stands up, and despite a bout of dizziness she's now feeling, stumbles and trips to her desk. She gets up, and flips through the parchment on it. She eventually finds on the last parchment where and when she was supposed to meet her Thane.
The eighth hour, and the gates. 'Eighth hour? What time is it now?'
Lydia looks outside, to her window, where a brightly shining sun is clearly halfway to it's peak. Halfway to it's peak meant that it was closer to 9 or 10. She would need a sundial, time candle, or a clock of some kind, to be able to tell beyond that. '9 or 10?'
"Ah, shite!" She yelps. Lydia was late. Lydia sprinted through her daily routine, cleaning herself, fixing and tying up her hair, and minor adjustments to gear, before putting it all on. She slams her backpack on, and runs out her room and to the gates.
She ignores the maids and servants greeting her, as she mutters repeatedly, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late."
She ignores her headaches and dizziness as she sprints the journey from her room to the gates of Whiterun. By the time she has the gates in sight, she slows to a walk, and quickly checks her face. In a barrel of water by a shop she'd been in once or twice, she dips her hands in and cleans herself a little bit up.
The reason she was so focused on looking good for her Thane was because she represents her Thane in her Thane's absence, and that she wants to make her Thane look better by looking good for him. She also feels like despite her only knowing her Thane for two days now, she really likes him. There's been enough rumors about him going around the palace that she feels like she's known him for a long time. Slaughtering bandits at Bleak Falls Barrow, the recoverer of the Dragonstone, and the savior of guards from the western watchtower. He was a hero. Someone actually worthy of being Dragonborn, and someone worthy of being her Thane.
And the way he treated her! She actually felt like a normal person, not just an obsessive person that people tended to ignore. He almost even seemed interested in her. Lydia blushes as she thinks that.
Speaking of, she's still running late. After washing her face and touching up her hair a little, she walks to where her Thane is laying on the ground, against the wall.
He has his head facing the sky, his backpack behind him acting as a pillow. His healthy white skin was pulled taut against his frame, and his muscles were clearly visible. The snow bear greatcloak he has covers his back, and acts as a buffer between him and the wall. In the cool, but not cold air that was slowly heating up, Lydia imagines, it probably is also acting as a blanket.
Lydia squats in front of her Thane, and lightly touches his face. A creepy smile appears on her face as she runs her thumb down his soft cheek, and watches him sleep. 'Hehehehe... my Thane'. She starts to giggle as she does this over the course of several minutes.
Eventually Drake stirs, and she rips away her hand. Drake starts to wake up.
"Hmmm?" Drake asks, yawning. He sits up. "Oh? You're here now?"
• • •
Emil looks at his four fellow guardsmen in curiosity. Emil was a teenager, one of the newest guards on the force.
"We should... We should stop her, right? Or warn him, or something?" He asks.
The woman in front of them was squatting in front of the newest Thane, Drake, and the woman in question was Lydia, his Housecarl. She starts to trace her hands over Drake's face.
"Ye don't need ta werry. It's Lidya, after all. The third Husgirl (Housecarl)." Aiden, a guardsmen with a peculiar accent answers.
A guardswoman comments, while counting on her fingers. "The third? The... Obsessive One, ain't she?"
"Aye, Nora. The third is practically Obsession personified. Whatever it is she's doing over there, she won't hurt him. I hope." The fourth guardsmen, the oldest of them, looks around before continuing.
"In any case, we shan't interfere. If we do, we might get our heads lopped off. I prefer to keep mine attached though. Besides, nobody's watching. Nobody important, at the least. No one will care if we skip this... Situation? Problem? Doesn't matter. We don't mess with the nobles." The oldest guardsmen continues, before yawning quietly.
The guards watch on in a scared, confused silence. All of them were thinking the same thing: 'We should stop her... But... I don't want to die for it...'
They all sigh a collective breath when Drake woke up. All of them swear silently not to tell Drake what happened. If they did... They all feared what Lydia might do if she found out.
At least, the silence between the guards lasted until the two people in front of them went outside the gates. Emil, not knowing why Lydia was called the Obsessive One, asks about her, scared.
"Lidya? She's a bit of... An enigma, I s'pose. She used ta be one of the five Husgirls-In-Tran'ng (Housecarl-In-Training), til recently. But b'fore then, she used ta get obsessed ta things really easily." Aiden explains a little.
"Yep. For a while, she obsessed over books, horses, and fighting. She tutored under a wandering bard for a while, then under the current Stablemaster, then under Kodlak, of the Companions. When we say obsessed, we mean those were quite literally the only things we, along with everyone else in the palace, would hear out of her for a few years. Now, she's a capable historian, a great rider, and a fine warrior, with her own styles of doing it in each. But lately..." The oldest guardsmen expands.
"It's been looking like she's been obsessing over people. More specifically, what Thane she was going to serve under once she became a full-fledged Housecarl. But now, that Thane is Drake. The Dragonborn, a Dragonslayer, and the savior of the western watchtower. Everyone knows how cunning he is, now. But I very much doubt anyone's told him who, or rather how, his Housecarl really is." Nora finishes the explanation.
"Is... is he in any trouble?" Emil asks, nearly scared for the man.
"Mmm... Probably not. She won't kill him, anyways. Would you look at the sky, it's time for us to head back. We're still on the clock. We could talk more when we're done." The oldest guard shut them up. They all nodded and marched to the market, back to their normally scheduled route.
• • •
"Hmmm? You're here now?" I ask. My face is warm, like it was being held recently. I look around and see that it's pretty bright out now, so it must be the heat from the sun that was warming me up. My greatcloak probably helped with that.
I stand up using the wall as a brace, my backpack and gear following me on my way up. My backpack's getting a lot heavier as time seems to be going on. Well, the weights probably just adding up. I wonder if I should buy a carriage or something when I get more money.
"Well, if you're here now, let's get going. We've got places to go, and things to do."
Lydia lowers her head, and mutters something, before raising it with a light smile on her face, but I'm unable to catch it. Along with the morning light came the din of people. Lots of people are heading to their respective workplaces. Adventurers are gathering outside armor and weapons shops, and farmers are heading down to their fields.
"Hmm?" I ask. "I couldn't quite catch that."
"It was nothing." Lydia says.
"Well, if that's the case, let's go." I say, before walking out the gates, Lydia following closely behind.
We head to the stables, where my horse, Myrmidon was waiting. Lydia's horse, Daryon, is a golden-yellow horse stabled in the palace stables, directly next to the commoner's stables, where I bought Myrmidon from.
Daryon wasn't a warhorse, unlike Myrmidon, but a Barb horse much smaller than Myrmidon. Myrmidon was a massive Shire horse, standing at 20 hands in height, approximately 80 inches tall (6 feet, 8 inches). Daryon, a Golden Quarter Horse at 15 hands tall (approximately 5 feet), looks tiny next to him. The only reason I was able to recognize the breed was from a catalogue of horses the Stablemaster had shown me previously.
I retrieve a saddle from the stall Myrmidon was in, and put it on him, the way Stablemaster Sable-Hilt showed me. I also attach the giant waterskins and saddlebags I'd bought two days ago to the saddle. The waterskins stretch, curving over the saddlebags, ending at Myrmidon's rump.
With that, Myrmidon looked fully equipped for an adventure, the saddle, bit and bridle, and horseshoes already equipped. I stand on his right, and smile at my handiwork. I'm proud of the way he looks. He is a strong, powerful horse, and is worthy of pride in himself.
I take Myrmidon by his reins outside the stable, where Daryon and Lydia are waiting, to my surprise. I then remember the size difference between Myrmidon and Daryon, and how that might affect the time it takes for us to put the saddles, saddlebags, and waterskins on, besides the fact that this was the first time doing it in my own. 'Eh, it's probably just that.'
We both mount our horses, and head towards the main road. On our way down to it, we come across a Khajiit caravan. It's Ri'Saad! I love this guy, for the simple reason that his character is so funny. Upon seeing them, I had to look a little bit away, because seeing his face makes me remember his dialogue.
The part of his dialogue that I keep laughing at, is the fact that he says something along the lines of: "Why does everyone treat us like smugglers and thieves? We're not. I don't like this Nordic racism."
The best part is the fact that if you immediately go into his merchant's menu, he will almost always have skooma in stock. Skooma is an illegal substance in just about every province of Tamriel except Elsweyr. In a game, this is comically hilarious, but in real life...
It's illegal because of it's addictive effects, and the fact that people will drive themselves into ruin and commit crimes in order to get the money to get more.
'Wait. If this is reality now, then wouldn't this be equivalent to heroin or something?' I shouldn't try skooma in this life. I probably shouldn't make any dealings with him. Not yet, anyways. Until I can gain control of the Thieve's Guild, I won't deal with the caravans.
Khajiit are pretty cool. I imagine that their fur would feel the same as a cat's. Maybe even softer. On Earth, I loved cats, so seeing Khajiit in real life is awesome.
"Tch." Ri'saad snickers a little.
Oh. He thinks I'm racist against Khajiit. Too bad. It's not that I'm racist towards Khajiit, but these Khajiit, in particular, trade in drugs, and figuratively chain people to the life of a vagrant. Of course, they get money out of them, but at the cost of their customers' freedom. It's not racism that funds my dislike for the caravans, but rather a dislike for crime.
On the other hand, I can consort with their guards. In particular, a guard from one of the eastern caravans by the name of Kharjo. He is a valuable companion in combat. I plan on getting him to join me when I eventually travel to Riften.
The caravans pass us by, and we continue on our way to the south, where we reach the main road. We start on our journey in relative silence to Ivarstead, where the feet of the Thousand Steps rest.
We reach the main road after a minute of riding, and we turn to the east, where our journey really begins. We ride for the next hour and half, passing farms and breweries to our right, and the Ritual Standing Stone to our left, until the White River comes into sight. The White River is the same river that flows north from Lake Ilinalta to to Riverwood, and is the river for which Riverwood is known. The White River flows through Riverwood to the northeast of Whiterun, where it snakes its way past Windhelm to the Sea of Ghosts.
After another hour and a half, we eventually come across crossroads that lead south to Riverwood, but we continue past them for another five hours to the Valtheim Towers. The Valtheim Towers are a couple of Nordic tower ruins that are on both sides of the White River connected by a long bridge, with a central support column in the middle on a small island in the White River. The tower on the left side of the river is on the side of a mountain, and the other stands as a wall between the road and the mountain, so travelers have to pass by the towers in order to continue on their journey.
A perfect spot for an ambush.
These towers are usually occupied by bandits in the game. These bandits are fairly weak until you meet their boss, which on higher difficulties could be pretty strong, especially for weaker players. Knowing there are bandits ahead, I ready my gear, and motion for Lydia to do the same.
As we approach the towers, I can see a small figure running from the closer side of the towers across the bridge to the other. It looks like they noticed our approach. Audible, but unclear shouts echo across the valley and over the river, along with the blowing of a horn.
A Nord woman in half-rotting fur armor steps out from the entrance to the tower and with her weapon, an iron war axe, out. After she comes out, a few male guards come out along with her. She waits for us to get about a dozen feet away before calling out, "Y-Your money or your life?!"
I sigh, and pinch the bridge of my nose under my helm. Why'd they choose her? "How much?"
"Uh... Two- Two hundred- uh... Two hundred and fifty gold. But if you try to fight, you'll have pay with your uh... blood!" The bandit says, trying to be intimidating, but she clearly didn't expect to get this far. It was clear, though, that she was not cut out for this sort of work, especially of a criminal kind.
"Yeah, I'm going to need a moment, give me a few seconds." I explain.
"F-fine! But, uh... no more than a few minutes!" The bandit tries to be intimidating again. I hear Lydia struggle to not laugh.
I turn my horse around, and head back about 40 feet from the entrance to the tower next to the road, and motion Lydia to talk quietly.
"Should we pay, kill them, capture them, or what? Honestly, I kind of just want to try and help them out, maybe guide them to the right path. Because this is embarrassing. She especially sucks at this sort of thing." I sigh again.
"Frankly, yes, my Thane. The guards with her are acting like she's their leader, though, my Thane. It was painful to watch. I suggest we try and deal with this diplomatically, my Thane." Lydia agrees.
"Alright, let's try not to laugh." I say before biting my tongue, and taking a deep breath. Lydia locks her face into figurative stone, and closes her eyes for a second before opening them again.
I guide my horse back to the bandits, and dismount. Coming down to their level of height, it feels like I'm a giant shrinking and becoming human.
"We're not going to fight you, but... You can stop now, okay?" I start, taking off my helmet and revealing my face. I leave my helm in my right hand.
My hair, about eight inches long now, and falling down to my shoulders, waves in a breeze that starts to blow. 'Why did that breeze start to blow? The fuck is this, some kind of anime scene?'
I smile, trying to convey diplomacy, and continue.
"You're not actually bandits, are you? Or at the very least, you're new at this, right?"
For some reason, the bandits in front of me lower their weapons and blush, even the male ones. The woman, however, just stares at me with her mouth open, like the surprised Pikachu meme. She lowers her head before answering.
"I- Ye- Yeah. We're just refugees trying to survive. We're not bandits, just people with no home. Our village was destroyed from a series of bandit raids, and the guards from the cities couldn't get to our village in time to stop them."
The 'bandit' leader explains more, about how they eventually came across this tower, and figured that since none of them had any connections to the Jarl they wouldn't be able to get a hearing. So they decided to turn to banditry. Unfortunately, they're practically a joke, calling themselves bandits. They don't have the will to kill, and none of them have any inkling of ways they can be intimidating. Because of that, none of them were able to make a single traveler pay up money to help them survive. They were ignored up until now. People thought they were a wandering jester troupe, making a mockery of bandits.
"Well, now you have my help. Talk to the Jarl, and say that Thane Drake sent you there. Tell him your story and ask for forgiveness. Balgruuf is wise. I'm sure he'll forgive you for your 'banditry', and let you into the city, and help you make a living. You'll be fine." I explain, holding off snickering.
The bandit leader thanks me, before gasping. "WAIT! *You're* the new Thane?!"
"Y-yes? Why are you so surprised?" I ask, curious.
"Thank the Nine we didn't attack you!" The bandit leader falls to the ground into a bow, calling out. The guards next to her copy her, gasping and praying. More 'bandits' pour out from the tower, begging and thanking for the Nine's kindness. Shouts begin to ring out across the valley.
"Why?" I'm taken aback. I don't know what to do. I glance over at Lydia but she raises her shoulders, and shakes her head. She doesn't know what's going on either.
"You'd have slaughtered us with a flick of your wrist! You're the Dragonslayer! And you didn't kill us!" The bandit leader shouts out, while facing the floor. Tears drip from her face, as she cries. She kneels, thanking Talos for his forgiveness. Wait, did the news of my Thanedom spread so quickly that exaggerations of my skills in combat get out of hand? I thought it would happen, but I didn't expect it to this degree.
"Uh... No, you're fine. I-It's okay." I don't know how to stop her, and calm her down. "You guys never really committed any crimes, so there'd be no point in killing you. Also, it's getting kind of embarrassing for me now. Guys, I'm still only human. Nothing I've done is that big, or that seriously important just yet."
"You've let us live, and that's important to us." The 'bandit' leader said, the 'bandits' guarding her agreeing. They all nod and ignore what I'm saying.
"I- I'm sorry, I gotta go. Fuck this shit, I'm out." The pressure I'm feeling is increasing, but not a hostile one, rather a fanatically reverent one. I can't stand the weird atmosphere that some of these 'bandits' are making. I quickly mount Myrmidon, and I double-tap his sides. Lydia follows me quickly. We fly by on our horses past the 'bandits', and continue our way.
The 'bandits' try to follow us, trying to give us gifts for our apparent benevolence', but our pace compared to theirs is faster by about 35 miles an hour. Less than two minutes at that pace, and already they're out of sight.
I slow Myrmidon down, and look around. We're only a few miles away from Darkwater Crossing, a crossroads where the White River meets Darkwater River. It's around 5 or 6 p.m. right now, so we're going to have to make a stop soon to rest for the night. A good place to stop at would Hillgrund's Tomb. It's been blessed by a Priest of Arkay, so that the dead won't be walking around the outside any time soon.
We eventually make it around a switchback on the road, before making it to the trail that leads off to Hillgrund's Tomb. There's a quest attached to this place for a man in Ivarstead. When I turn off the main road, and onto the trail leading up to the barrow, Lydia first expresses confusion, but then understanding as she realizes what time it is. The fact that it's also off of the main road helps because if the 'bandits' from earlier search for us, they won't find us.
The tree branches brush past my head as we slowly climb the low-angled hill up to the tomb. Myrmidon's large size makes him somewhat inefficient for forest exploration, but I'm sure for battle, he'll be amazing.
I didn't even notice, but Myrmidon is tired, breathing heavily, and sweating. I dismount him once we reach the top, and take the saddlebags and saddle off of him, storing them under the peristyle, a kind of porch that has several pillars arranged in a continuous fashion. I hitch his reins to a young tree nearby. It was thick enough to stop Myrmidon from running away, but thin enough I could still tie a strong knot on it. Lydia follows my lead silently.
After we secure Myrmidon and Daryon, we set up camp underneath the peristyle. The peristyle of other tombs and barrows usually consisted of a several pillars set in a certain fashion, but this one had a simple semicircular shape, with the flat side being the ground, and a lone supporting pillar in the middle. We set up our individual tents, then Lydia went to gather stones for a fireplace.
I search along the ground for tinder: small pieces of dried moss, (specifically reindeer moss or some kind close to it), dead leaves, and twigs smaller than and around the size of my finger that'll burn up easily to start the fire. The key to it, was collecting the brown and dry stuff. If there's green, or it feels spongy, wet, or moist, don't try to use it.
After I collect what I believe to be enough, I set them in a small pile next to the growing circle of rocks Lydia is building. Her circle is currently only a quarter of the way there, but the stones she's picking up are fairly large. 'Where's she even getting them? Won't she need help soon at the rate she's going?'
After dropping off the tinder, I now search for kindling, branches larger than my fingers, but smaller than my arm. These branches will serve as secondary fuel, to help light the primary fuel, that is, dead and dry logs that will serve as the actual firewood. I set a huge amount of them a little bit away from my tinder, and prepare to start grabbing the the larger logs. I take my steel axe with me, and I plan to use it as a hatchet.
Thankfully, there are two logs fairly close to the barrow, dry and rotting. I pick the end of one up, and drag it closer to our camp. Once it's within 15 feet of our fireplace, I start hacking away at a large branch sticking off from the bough (the main tree) that will serve as our fuel. I chop off a dozen solid foot-long pieces with a radius of about 8 or so inches each. I set them up on the log, and split them using my axe. I finish off with about 48 good-sized chunks of firewood, which I stack up inside the Barrow. That takes me a solid two hours. Some parts of the wood like the knobs in it don't particularly chop off well, so I store them away with the rest of the wood for a later bit.
In those two hours, Lydia finishes building the fireplace, and was taking the horses to taking the horses to the river to drink water. Of course, just because you take a horse to the water, doesn't mean it'll drink. That was why she was taking so long. Feeding the horses was part of it. They liked to chew the grass nice and slow. The horse feed, after all, was for when they're at Ivarstead. I'm not going to take a horse up the mountain. They're not exactly made for it.
After I finish chopping the wood, I start setting up the fire. Tinder in the middle: leaves on the bottom layer, then moss above the leaves, and the twigs in a nice little teepee around the moss. Leaving a small hole for the moss to peek out of and air to enter, I place the twigs poking into the ground a little. A small layer of dirt, dust, and a miniature ecosystem of lichen line the peristyles' floor, allowing such an action to take place.
Next, I begin placing the secondary fuel around the tinder, again, in a teepee formation. Just like before, I let an entrance to the teepee allow the smaller teepee to peek out of. With that being finished, I place the primary fuel in a log cabin shape around the teepees. I do this by placing two logs on either side of the teepees, and placing two more on top of those perpendicularly, balancing on them both, and repeating that process.
In a similar fashion to the first two times, I leave an opening for the tinder and kindling by utilizing the knobby parts as the base for a 'doorframe', and using them to base the log cabin upwards. Using the other knobby bits I was able to set the log cabin so that there was a 'top' to the 'doorframe', and thus was able to build it up to a good two feet in height.
There's a specific limit to how high you should build a log cabin fire, as it can fall over like a Jenga tower if one side of the base burns too quickly, or someone knocks it over. Because of that, you should build it so that in the case that it does fall over, it will be contained easily. We don't want to start wildfires after all, because those can get messy very quickly. The stones for the fire pit should also remain at least six inches in height and the fire should not be built any taller than eight inches in a two square foot area. (It's a 3:4:1² ratio, in the order of wall height, fire height, and area.) That's a minimum however, so as your area for a fire pit grows, so too, can the height of a safe fire.*
Doing all of that took nearly an hour and sometime in the middle of all that, Lydia had returned, tied up the horses, and sat kneeling, watching me with an open mouth.
"Wh- Why... How... What?"
The words she spoke just then were some of the very few she's spoken today. I don't know why, but she's not spoken much today.
"Why did I build the fire like this? How did I do so? And what kind of a fire is it?" I suggest in the forms of possible questions she may have meant.
Lydia slams her mouth shut and nods quickly, to which I laugh. It's pretty funny.
"Well, I built it like this because this way it burns effectively, quickly, and hot. You watched me build it, so I don't need to really explain that, and... Uh, what was that last question?" I explain, before forgetting what was asked.
"Name of the fire." Lydia answers with the speed of a cheetah.
I snap my fingers, and point at her a little, before saying, "That's right. The name of this kind of fire is called a log cabin fire."
"Hmmm..." Lydia quiets down after learning the name, and squeezes her eyes shut.
That being said, I move closer to the fire and conjure up some Flames in my right hand. I stick my finger where some of the moss is sticking out and send a small hot beam of fire inside. I kill the Flames, remove my hand and the moss catches in seconds, burning up, before sputtering out.
"Your 'log cabin fire' didn't light." Lydia acknowledges the obvious.
"Shhh," I say, "Watch the magic happen, figuratively, anyways."
I lean forward to the tinder and blow on it. With how dry it is, it only takes a few exhalations before the embers catch again, and start to burn up the kindling. Once the kindling starts to catch, I feed it more kindling from the hole at top of the cabin, and some of the holes in the sides to direct it to where I want it to go.
Within the span of the next two minutes, the fire starts to burn brightly, and it quickly encases the primary fuel in flames. On the opposite side of the fire sits Lydia, her mouth agape.
"Y-You didn't use magic, did you?" She bursts out. "How?"
"The only magic I used was at the start, when I went to light it. That was all the magic I used. The rest, was just simple thermodynamics." I answer her proudly.
The technique I used just then was a technique honed over a few thousand years, over the course of several thousand people's lifetimes, and perfected by individuals all over the world. On my world, Earth, it was a technique commonly used by bushwhackers, hunters, and recreational campers. Well, at least, us people in the know.
"Thermo... die-what?" She sounds out the word.
I smile and repeat myself slowly, then explain. This concept of science is one usually introduced in the 8th grade, but can be expanded on high school, but won't be fully explained until you reach a college-level.
"Ther. Mo. Dy. Nam. Ics. It's the branch of corporeal science that deals with the concepts of 'heat', 'temperature', 'work', and 'energy' and our conception of it, along with most other types of energy, like light, movement, chemical energy, and electrical. All of thermodynamics can summed into an explanation of energy, how it changes, and whether those changes can be useful.
"One of the first things you learn about in a thermodynamics class is about fire, and the laws surrounding it. The first law is that you must have heat to have a fire. Until there is heat, that there," I point to the cheerful, bright inferno consuming the wood, "Is just another pile of wood."
Lydia nods. I can feel she's trying to understand, but her understanding of science is little more than superstitions regarding magic. She definitely wants to learn, on the other hand.
"The second law is that you must have fuel, something to burn, otherwise, you've just got a hot day." I point at the wood this time. "Take away the wood, and you don't have fire either."
"And the third law is that you must have air to have a fire. Remove the air, and you do not have a fire." I wave my arms around as I say that.
"So then... When you blew into the flames, you added more air?" Lydia asks, curious. It sounds like she's on the tail end of the concept now.
"Yes."
"And because you added more air, the fire was able to grow... Hmmm..." Lydia's hand rose to her chin, and she began stroking her chin, as a man might his beard. Her cheeks start to redden, and then she jumps forward a little bit more, in excitement, (I think).
"Yes. That's exactly what happened." I am proud of her willingness to learn. However...
"Uh, hold on. Please back up." I ask. "You're a bit too close."
As Lydia was asking her questions and I was answering them, she had been moving forward. By now, she was practically on top of me.
"Ah- uh, I'm sorry." She apologize, and backs off. Her cheeks practically glow red but I pretend not to notice.
After she does that, I stare at the fire for a few minutes. My friends and I used to have bonfires all the time, but something about the memory feels missing as I remember it. I shut my eyes, and let the bright glow of the fire turn the inside of my eyelids red.
"Hieek!!" I gasp quietly, and my eyes fly open.
I know what it is. I can't remember my friends names or faces. I remember the general silhouettes of their bodies against the firelight in the memories but I can't remember the details of their faces. A pain unlike any I've felt so far starts to grow in my chest. As it starts to grow, I pull my hand to my chest.
It hurts, stopping my breathing, twisting my heart, breaking my mind, shattering my bones. All at the same time and concentrated solely on my heart. The pain grows, stinging, thudding, pounding, before consuming my entire mind. All I know is the pain I feel right now. Before I even realize it, tears fall from my eyes, and hit the some of the stones for the fire.
My tears hiss as they hit the hot stones, and I turn my body away from fire. Facing the darkness, I let the front of my body cool, and the fire starts to burn my back. The cool blue black of the night echoes in my mind, freezing the hot, exploding pain my chest is burning me from the inside out with.
"I'll take second watch," I gruffly say to Lydia, before getting up and walking to my bedroll. I rip off my armor, leaving me in my tunic and breeches.
I didn't intend for my voice to come out as gruffly as it did, but the pain and the calmness, the heat and the cold twisting and turning inside my intestines ruined my train of thought.
Thank God I rolled my bedroll out earlier. It's a bit warm now from the heat the fire is radiating. I get inside of it, and roll away from Lydia's face, directly into a fetal position, crying hard silently. I inhale loudly, after several gasping breaths of hot air trying to breathe despite my chest wanting to collapse.
"Okay," She replies in a cheerful tone.
'Why? Why can she feel so- so happy? How can she sound like she's happy! She can tell that I'm hurting right now, right? There's no way she can't. Why does this hurt so much?' The thoughts I have echo in my ear, teasing me, begging me to scream them at her. After I ignore them, and tell myself that she doesn't know, there's no reason to scream at her, even worse thoughts come in.
'I'm carrying swords. All I have to do to help her 'understand' the way I feel right now is to swing this nice, this... beautiful, gilded ebony sword into her neck. It's cold, so maybe it'll show her the crushing cold of the depression and pain I'm feeling. The fire's right there. I don't even have to take my swords out. If I just shove her head onto one of those stones, I'm sure—'
I ignore and kill the intrusive thoughts, knocking my head on the ground. A small pebble in the dirt under my pillow of cloth on the hard stone under my head jams it's way up to my temple. It stabs into my head, distracting me from both the intrusive thoughts, and the emotional turmoil my heart's breaking over.
Like a glow stick snapping, my strength went out when my head hit that pebble and so too, did my eyes. I'm knocked unconscious by the physical, mental, emotional, and psychological stress and exhaustion running from the 'bandits' cost me. I simply... can't handle it any more. Everything fades to black.
————————————————————————————
*It's okay to try the fire portion at home, so long as you follow the rules I've given, and the fire's not indoors. Also, if you're under the age of 14, I suggest you ask your parents about it first. Even if you're older, I still suggest it. Just because it's small doesn't mean it's not dangerous. Small ≠ safe.
-----------------
Funds: 1,019 septims
Weapons:
💠 - Orcish Sword of Paralysis
💠 - Blade of Whiterun (Ebony longsword, 3rd Era, 10 points Frost damage/5 to Stamina/slow)
💠 - Quicksilver Throwing Knives {x5}
💠 - Nordic Daggers {x2}
- Elven Bow, Unstrung {x12 Elven Arrows}
- Orcish Sword
Apparel:
💠 - Refurbished Steel Helm (15% more armor)
💠 - Steel Armor (HP Regen. Injury Heal Rate 25%↑, Light Wound Heal 50%↑)
💠 - Spiked Steel Gauntlets (+20 extra H2H damage)
💠 - Refitted Steel Boots (15% more armor)
💠 - Custom Quicksilver buckler (18% more armor)
- Winter Cloak (20% Cold Resistance)
- Snow Bear Greatcloak (50% Cold Resistance)
- Shield of the Dragonslayer (Kite, 40% Fire Resistance)
Potions:
- Mysterious Potion {x4}
Food:
- Basket of Fruits and Vegetables; {onions x4, apples x8, leeks x5, potatoes x8, head of cabbage x2, carrots x6, loaves of bread x2}
Books:
- Stack of Stormcloak notes and letters to family {x15}
- Letter to Thrynn & Torturer's Ring
- Spell Tome: Sparks
- Spell Tome: Oakflesh
Scrolls:
- Scroll of Blizzard
Supplies:
- Backpack
- Bedroll / Mountain Bedroll
- Cooking pan
- Waterskin
- Metal Bowl
- Torches {x3}
- Tent
- Pitons
- Climbing harness
- Rope (200 ft.)
- Hiking Staves {x2}
- Ice Picks {x2}
- Bar of Soap
Miscellaneous:
- Lockpicks {x1}
- Vial for Mysterious Potion
- Golden Claw
- Potion bottle remains