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soulstealer1987 · 6 years

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Arc 3, Chapter 2

Ziist Grozein

You know how you're always sore all over the day after you spend a lot of time exercising? Yeah... well, Gallus didn't get to skip out on that fun part. He also wants absolutely nothing to do with whatever it is the Circle's arguing about, but unfortunately for him, he might just wind up involved anyway. Clearly, this can only go well.

Crossposted from AO3. Masterpost is here.

Arc 3: Live by the Sword

Arc 3, Chapter 1 ~ Arc 3, Chapter 3

Gallus’ first day of training with the Companions went pretty well. Vilkas was, unsurprisingly, even more of an egotistical prick when it came to his teaching style, but Gallus was willing to admit he did know what he was doing. (Of course, he wasn’t at all willing to admit that to Vilkas, or really, anyone other than himself.) But seriously, was footwork really that important? Gallus doubted it. He just wanted to actually use a sword at some point in the near future.

Gallus’ second day of training with the Companions was a complete and utter nightmare, mainly because everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to stand, and it definitely hurt to do anything remotely physical. He got a few sympathetic looks from some of the less experienced members and Farkas, but overall, that day was a nightmare.

The third day was better because he was significantly less sore and Vilkas finally told him to start using his actual sword to practice before eventually deeming him ‘not bad’ and sending him off to the smith working the Skyforge to get some better armor. By better, Gallus suspected Vilkas meant heavy, which he definitely wasn’t on-board with. Not only was heavy armor more expensive, but it was almost as hard to move in as the mage robes, and unsurprisingly, extremely heavy.

The smith working the Skyforge, one Eorlund Gray-Mane, was surprisingly friendly and a nice contrast to Vilkas being… well, Vilkas. He apparently just happened to have a new set of leather armor lying around that he’d made for no reason, and said Gallus could have it for a significantly cheaper price than it was worth if he made the cut for the Companions.

From the fourth day on, the days began blurring together, if only because there wasn’t much variety in them. In all honesty, if Gallus had known getting better with his sword would entail getting shouted at by someone whose ego is perhaps a bit bigger than it should be far too often, he probably would have looked elsewhere. But he made a commitment to at least give the Companions a try, and he’s going to see it through.

If nothing else, there’s a lot of positives to training with the Companions, too, even if he doesn’t remain with them for long. Aside from the obvious exception of Vilkas, most people are nice or at least somewhat sociable when he tries to start a conversation. (With… a couple of exceptions, but he’s been told that Aela hates everyone and Skjor is… Skjor, and that’s apparently enough justification for everyone else.) Even if he gets nothing other than an increase in his sword-fighting skills, he’s already improved a lot. And the mead’s good.

Weeks pass without much event. Sun’s Height turns to Last Seed. Gallus trains, and trains, and trains, because he damn well wants to figure out who he was before his amnesia happened and he’s not going to let a little thing like the many deadly dangers of Skyrim stop him. Although he’s still definitely running as fast as he can in the other direction if a giant’s involved, because he’d rather not get whacked into the sky anytime soon. And, in a lot of situations, running as fast as he can in the opposite direction is the smart thing to do, never mind that most of the Companions never do it, because victory or Sovngarde, that’s why.

Gallus supposes there’s probably a reason he hasn’t seen very many elderly Nords, and that whole victory or Sovngarde thing is probably exactly why. Even so, he distinctly remembers something he overheard Kodlak Whitemane tell one of the newer Companions not too long ago.

To be getting on in years as a warrior, one must be either very strong or very cowardly, Kodlak had said. You tell me what the older warriors here are, lad.

He’d been talking to Torvar at the time, a Nord who’s probably the only Companion Gallus thinks he could hold his own against at this point without any Illusion magic, or as the Companions would likely call it, cheating. Honestly, Gallus isn’t sure how Torvar’s lasted as long as he has, because he hasn’t seen him sober yet.

Granted, he hasn’t seen him fight, so maybe he’s got some hidden depths. Very well hidden depths, if most of the other younger Companions - whelps, the Circle calls them, and him for some reason - are to be believed.

Back to Kodlak, though. Presumably, he’s something called a Harbinger, which isn’t actually the position of leader in the Companions, but is the closest thing they’ve got to one. A Harbinger is the one that holds the Companions together, and it’s not hard for Gallus to see that Kodlak’s a damn good one. Then there’s the Circle, comprised of Farkas, Vilkas, Aela (the Huntress) and Skjor, who apparently advise the Harbinger on things.

Gallus may not have been around long, but he’s reasonably certain that Vilkas is avoiding Aela and Skjor, and they’re avoiding him in turn. Why, he doesn’t know, but he’s pretty sure it has to do with the one time he did nearly walk into a shouting match between the entirety of the Circle and Kodlak.

Well, okay, maybe not the entirety of the Circle. He only heard shouting from three people, but considering that he couldn’t seem to find Farkas or Kodlak anywhere else, it’s quite likely they were there and just were being a bit more mature about… whatever the issue was. Gallus tried not to pay too much attention, but he heard something about wolves and something about blood and that was when he left before they could notice his listening in.

(Of course, he’s not entirely sure they didn’t notice him, if the suspicious looks he was getting from Aela the next day were any indication. In his defense, he wants absolutely nothing to do with whatever it is they’re arguing about. Damn it, he just wants to learn how to fight with a sword, he doesn’t have time for their drama.)

“You wanted to see me?” Gallus asks, although unnecessarily. Kodlak’s sitting where he always is, or at least seems to be. Actually, that’s a little concerning, that he’s always sitting in one place or another, but Gallus pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being. It’s not his business, in any case.

“Yes,” Kodlak nods. “I did. So, Gallus. You’ve been with us for some time now, correct?”

“Yes?”

“While many of the others seem to have forgotten this,” Kodlak says, “when you first came to Jorrvaskr, you said you did not wish to become a Companion, but merely to train. Am I wrong?”

"No...”

Gallus thinks he knows where this is going now, and while nothing Kodlak can say or do will change his mind at this point, he might as well humor the man. Even if he suspects his past had nothing to do with the Companions by now, and likely his future will have little to do with them, either, he does respect Kodlak. If it’s for nothing else, it’s for the way he’s been able to keep all the exceptionally immature warriors living in Jorrvaskr from killing each other. Not an easy feat.

The man’s got leadership skills, even if he claims not to be one. This, Gallus knows for certain. He’s not at all certain why he knows leadership skills when he sees them, but that’s something less concerning than his apparent talent for breaking and entering. So he might actually look into that one, if he can.

"I understand perfectly if you haven’t changed your mind,” Kodlak says softly. “In fact, I can’t say I blame you.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Gallus agrees. “I just came here to learn how to protect myself, and… well, I think I’m making progress?”

“You certainly are. Vilkas might not be telling you this, of course, but he’s quite impressed with how quickly you’re picking things up,” Kodlak smiles, and his eyes twinkle mischievously. “He doesn’t need to know I told you that.”

“No, of course not,” Gallus agrees. “But… yeah. I don’t mind helping out with jobs and things, and I wouldn’t mind outright joining except that I’m not so sure I could leave.”

“You’re right about that. Once you’re in, you’re in for life,” Kodlak frowns. “Which, in normal circumstances, is absolutely fine. But you, lad, have a different path ahead of you. I would have liked to have had you as one of us, but I’m not one to intervene when fate is involved.”

Gallus is, understandably, confused. Very confused. He must look it, too, because Kodlak quickly adds, “Ah, ignore the ramblings of an old man. I really called you here to ask if you would mind accompanying Ria and Farkas on a job.”

“It kind of depends on the job,” Gallus shrugs, “but to Oblivion with it. What’s the job?”

“Retrieving a shard of Wuuthrad from a tomb not far from here known as Dustman’s Cairn. It should, theoretically, be easy enough that any one of us should be able to do it alone, but I fear it will not be that easy in the least. Shards of Wuuthrad are always heavily guarded.”

“Got it,” Gallus says, deciding to ask what Wuuthrad is later. The name sounds vaguely familiar, in any case, so he’s probably heard about whatever Wuuthrad is from Ria at some point or another. It’ll come to him eventually. Hopefully. “I can do that, sure.”

In retrospect… it probably was a bad idea. Of course, Gallus couldn’t have known then what was coming. Neither could anyone else.

Getting there went alright. Gallus certainly didn’t mind getting paired up with Farkas, who didn’t talk much and was nice when he did, and Ria, who could ramble on and on about obscure parts of Companion history for hours if not days on end but was still probably one of the friendliest warriors in Jorrvaskr.

Initially, once the trio got into Dustman’s Cairn, things were great! Sure, there were draugr everywhere, and draugr were supposed to be long-dead ancient Nords who were cursed to be undead in their tombs, or something. But seeing as they weren’t that hard to deal with even when Gallus was on his own, either being dead for long periods of time had screwed over their combat skills or they just had never been particularly good at fighting. A lot of people Gallus knew would probably insist it was the former. He suspected the latter.

Regardless of draugr combat skills, everything went to Oblivion pretty soon after they entered, and it wasn’t even the draugr’s fault.

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