#shaman hut skyrim

[mikatesmods]

Thistle's Lair

Shaman's hut for Skyrim LE

[shieldslinger]

SKYRIM

Sven was born to the Skaal on Solstheim during the First Era. Due to his sickliness, his mother eventually infected him with lycanthropy in order to give him some strength, and her boy grew into a strong and fierce warrior. He learned from the land, his people, and his Dwemer neighbors. So when the Dwemer became entrenched in conflict, Sven joined their side--fighting and dying at Red Mountain. Well, almost dying. His people laid the burial enchantments on him and froze him in ice, but it only served to preserve him to a brand new era with a new kind of conflict. 

STATS

name: sven blue-shield hair color: blond eye color: blue height: 6′2″ weight: 220lbs race: nord birthday: 4 sun’s height 1E675 birthplace: solstheim birthsign: the serpent

SKILLS

preferring sword and shield, sven is well known for the white STAR INSIGNIA on a  blue field). he also tends to lean towards heavy armor. he always carries SKAAL LEATHERS, wearing them when hunting and fishing, as they are lighter and warmer than the STALHRIM ARMOR he’s known to wear into battle.

post-visit to solstheim, sven begins to practice skaal magic, as his mother tried to teach him all those years ago. his focus still remains on the physical–he still mainly wields sword and shield, but he eventually begins working ice magic into his battle technique. he is, however, rather gifted in restoration, specifically wards. due to his magic and his werewolf nature, he has the unique ability to befriend a majority of wildlife, and occasionally calls on their aid in battle.

outside of fighting, sven has high alchemy skills, and mainly makes potions to sell in town. he has rather high speech and knows his way around a smithy well enough to craft items in the traditional skaal way.

sven is also gifted in the use of his werewolf abilities. he has complete control when he shifts, though he is forced to shift every full moon.

RELIGION

while sven does not frequently practice his religion, he does believe in the all-maker as the one god-like entity in the universe. the all-maker creates and sustains all things and provides for their people when they reach oneness with the land. oneness is a kind of balance, that nothing is taken from the wilderness that is not wholly used–trees are only chopped down when absolutely necessary, every part of the animal is used when killed, and nothing is picked or killed without a need. the opposing force, called the adversary, represents greed, waste, and laziness, and often rises in power when the skaal lose sight of their goal to achieve oneness with the land.

the skaal–sven included–do not doubt the power of the aedra or daedra, but instead, realize them to be what they are: not gods, but powerful entities with incredibly long lives.

RESIDENCE

sven calls CLOCKWORK CASTLE his home, especially after discovering the secrets of the current residents. he knows he must help them as much as he is able, though at the point that he discovers them, he’s not able to do much in the way of magical help. he tends to be drawn towards the mountains and other snowy places, as the cold air seems to invigorate him rather than slow him down. the other places he calls home reflect this preference:

HENDHRAHEIM, a house in the mountains about halfway between markarth and falkreath

VLINDREL HALL in markarth

WINDSTAD MANOR just outside morthal

A SMALL HUT he built between dawnstar and morthaal

FACTIONS & WORK

most of sven’s work comes from his alliance with the companions, dawnguard, and the blades. he frequently takes jobs from the companions and dawnguard, though his relationship with the blades is on thin ice, considering that their leadership tends to rub him the wrong way. he also takes jobs from jarls as he passes through the city, and occasionally bringing in small goods for trade as well (like meats, furs, jewelry, etc).

HISTORY

sven was born to the skaal of solstheim during the first era, raised by sigrde the golden, the then current shaman of his tribe. she did her best to raise him according to their ways, to impart the wisdom of her teachings to him. he always listened, but his heart was more in hunting and exploring the outdoors. sven mostly minded his own business, but due to his small stature and weak frame, he was picked on by the other children for being dead weight to the tribe. he fell ill, off and on, with such frequency, that his mother decided to do the forbidden: she gave her son the curse of lycanthrope, or in her eyes, the gift of strength and health. his chances of survival were slim, but because of his strength of spirit, sven was not only able to survive, but thrive. he grew quickly after that, filling out form and becoming a gifted hunter and warrior for his people. however, in his early 20′s, sigrde passed, leaving sven to throw himself into helping his people and his island.

the dwemer were as present on solstheim as they were everywhere else, and the peaceful skaal were relatively good neighbors to the elves. on the whole, they stuck to their own respective parts of the island, occasionally meeting for trade or during travel. sven was a bit more curious and outgoing than many of his skaal brethren and ventured inside the dwemer city of nchardak once. he found their architecture and machines to be breathtaking, if intimidating.

as the conflict between the elves heightened overseas, the dwemer on solstheim began to develop new weapons to support their side. this called for an increase in resources, something that nearly brought the dwemer in conflict with the skaal. however, not seeking to fight a battle on two fronts, the dwemer opted instead to use skaal scouts to find suitable areas to mine. sven was one of those scouts for a time, until the fighting started. he, and many other skaal, grew concerned that the conflict abroad would someday be brought to their island, and wishing to prevent that, allied with the dwemer in their fight. 

the war seemed to be going their way until that fateful day at red mountain. the battle was so large and chaotic that when sven was gravely injured, he was dragged to the healers and given herbs to ease his pain and put him to sleep. different healers later believed him to be comatose, and by the time he had safely arrived back in solstheim, to be dead completely. his people buried him with honors, freezing him in ice and blessing his grave off the coast, so that his spirit, even in death, might protect the shores of solstheim.

it’s not until centuries later that his grave is hit with fierce dragon fire, causing the magic placed on his tomb to wear and the ice begin to melt. his tomb thawed and eventually released him into a new era of conflict.

[shieldslingera]

SKYRIM

Sven was born to the Skaal on Solstheim during the First Era. Due to his sickliness, his mother eventually infected him with lycanthropy in order to give him some strength, and her boy grew into a strong and fierce warrior. He learned from the land, his people, and his Dwemer neighbors. So when the Dwemer became entrenched in conflict, Sven joined their side--fighting and dying at Red Mountain. Well, almost dying. His people laid the burial enchantments on him and froze him in ice, but it only served to preserve him to a brand new era with a new kind of conflict. 

STATS

name: sven blue-shield hair color: blond eye color: blue height: 6′2″ weight: 220lbs race: nord birthday: 4 sun’s height 1E675 birthplace: solstheim birthsign: the serpent

SKILLS

preferring sword and shield, sven is well known for the white STAR INSIGNIA on a  blue field). he also tends to lean towards heavy armor. he always carries SKAAL LEATHERS, wearing them when hunting and fishing, as they are lighter and warmer than the STALHRIM ARMOR he’s known to wear into battle.

post-visit to solstheim, sven begins to practice skaal magic, as his mother tried to teach him all those years ago. his focus still remains on the physical–he still mainly wields sword and shield, but he eventually begins working ice magic into his battle technique. he is, however, rather gifted in restoration, specifically wards. due to his magic and his werewolf nature, he has the unique ability to befriend a majority of wildlife, and occasionally calls on their aid in battle.

outside of fighting, sven has high alchemy skills, and mainly makes potions to sell in town. he has rather high speech and knows his way around a smithy well enough to craft items in the traditional skaal way.

sven is also gifted in the use of his werewolf abilities. he has complete control when he shifts, though he is forced to shift every full moon.

RELIGION

while sven does not frequently practice his religion, he does believe in the all-maker as the one god-like entity in the universe. the all-maker creates and sustains all things and provides for their people when they reach oneness with the land. oneness is a kind of balance, that nothing is taken from the wilderness that is not wholly used–trees are only chopped down when absolutely necessary, every part of the animal is used when killed, and nothing is picked or killed without a need. the opposing force, called the adversary, represents greed, waste, and laziness, and often rises in power when the skaal lose sight of their goal to achieve oneness with the land.

the skaal–sven included–do not doubt the power of the aedra or daedra, but instead, realize them to be what they are: not gods, but powerful entities with incredibly long lives.

RESIDENCE

sven calls CLOCKWORK CASTLE his home, especially after discovering the secrets of the current residents. he knows he must help them as much as he is able, though at the point that he discovers them, he’s not able to do much in the way of magical help. he tends to be drawn towards the mountains and other snowy places, as the cold air seems to invigorate him rather than slow him down. the other places he calls home reflect this preference:

HENDHRAHEIM, a house in the mountains about halfway between markarth and falkreath

VLINDREL HALL in markarth

WINDSTAD MANOR just outside morthal

A SMALL HUT he built between dawnstar and morthaal

FACTIONS & WORK

most of sven’s work comes from his alliance with the companions, dawnguard, and the blades. he frequently takes jobs from the companions and dawnguard, though his relationship with the blades is on thin ice, considering that their leadership tends to rub him the wrong way. he also takes jobs from jarls as he passes through the city, and occasionally bringing in small goods for trade as well (like meats, furs, jewelry, etc).

HISTORY

sven was born to the skaal of solstheim during the first era, raised by sigrde the golden, the then current shaman of his tribe. she did her best to raise him according to their ways, to impart the wisdom of her teachings to him. he always listened, but his heart was more in hunting and exploring the outdoors. sven mostly minded his own business, but due to his small stature and weak frame, he was picked on by the other children for being dead weight to the tribe. he fell ill, off and on, with such frequency, that his mother decided to do the forbidden: she gave her son the curse of lycanthrope, or in her eyes, the gift of strength and health. his chances of survival were slim, but because of his strength of spirit, sven was not only able to survive, but thrive. he grew quickly after that, filling out form and becoming a gifted hunter and warrior for his people. however, in his early 20′s, sigrde passed, leaving sven to throw himself into helping his people and his island.

the dwemer were as present on solstheim as they were everywhere else, and the peaceful skaal were relatively good neighbors to the elves. on the whole, they stuck to their own respective parts of the island, occasionally meeting for trade or during travel. sven was a bit more curious and outgoing than many of his skaal brethren and ventured inside the dwemer city of nchardak once. he found their architecture and machines to be breathtaking, if intimidating.

as the conflict between the elves heightened overseas, the dwemer on solstheim began to develop new weapons to support their side. this called for an increase in resources, something that nearly brought the dwemer in conflict with the skaal. however, not seeking to fight a battle on two fronts, the dwemer opted instead to use skaal scouts to find suitable areas to mine. sven was one of those scouts for a time, until the fighting started. he, and many other skaal, grew concerned that the conflict abroad would someday be brought to their island, and wishing to prevent that, allied with the dwemer in their fight. 

the war seemed to be going their way until that fateful day at red mountain. the battle was so large and chaotic that when sven was gravely injured, he was dragged to the healers and given herbs to ease his pain and put him to sleep. different healers later believed him to be comatose, and by the time he had safely arrived back in solstheim, to be dead completely. his people buried him with honors, freezing him in ice and blessing his grave off the coast, so that his spirit, even in death, might protect the shores of solstheim.

it’s not until centuries later that his grave is hit with fierce dragon fire, causing the magic placed on his tomb to wear and the ice begin to melt. his tomb thawed and eventually released him into a new era of conflict.

[thetamrieliclibrary]

Pocket Guide to the Empire, Third Edition: Orsinium

The Orc homeland of Orsinium has had a troubled history. Indeed, for most of the past two thousand years Orsinium has existed only in the dreams of the Orc people. The current land, sometimes called Nova Orsinium, is the second incarnation of an Orc homeland in the Wrothgarian Mountain of High Rock. The first was a creation of the tenth century of the First Era, a refuge for Orsimer harried from High Rock, Cyrodiil, and Skyrim by the expansions of the Empires of the men and mer.

High in the mountains, far from their enemies, the Orc chieftain Torug gro-Igron brought his people together. A few huts grew into more permanent structures as word spread to the far-flung Orcs of Tamriel that there was a civilisation on the rise that would welcome them from their wanderings. If the Myth of Mauloch is to be believed, the Orcs of Orsimer had been pariah of the land for two hundred years, and if it is not true, their destitution was even longer. The dream of Orsinium was too beautiful not to be sought.

It is impossible to achieve an objective look at the reality of the first Orsinium. The chronicles of the time paint a picture of a fortress ruled by savage law, leading raids on its neighbours along the Bjoulsae River. According to Orc historians, though, it was a utopia, a peaceable land of agriculture and commerce. The truth is likely somewhere in between, but all written and archaeological evidence was destroyed in the Siege of Orsinium. For thirty years, a joint military force from Daggerfall, Sentinel, and the Ansei Order of Diagna attempted to breach the seemingly impenetrable walls of Torug gro-Igron's fortress kingdom. In 1E 980, they succeeded, annihilating all who lived within, scattering the stones into dust.

The Orsimer exodus was long and particularly deleterious to the character of its people. They had never been well-regarded by the other inhabitants of Tamriel, but now, with no hope, they became little more than monsters. Other Orcs with vision attempted to create new homelands over the next three thousand years, but all were attacked and destroyed before they could take root.

In 3E 399, however, a new Orc visionary, Gortwog gro-Nagorm acquired the land near the former site of Orsinium, and began to construct a new city for his people. Graced by statues of Orc heroes such as Mauloch and Torug, and built of iron, Nova Orsinium seemed destined to provoke the same reaction by its neighbours as its predecessor did. Gortwog, however, proved a diplomatic as well as a political genius, and his land has prospered. Following the events of the Miracle of Peace, it now encompasses a substantial territory of central High Rock, and its application for elevation to Provincial status is under review by the Imperial authorities. Its recent alliance with its former foe in Wayrest shows promise for a stable future.

The only troubling sign for Orsinium is a religious conflict that has brewed over the last ten years. Traditionally, the Orcs have worshipped the Daedra Malacath (Mauloch) as their patron deity. Gortwog, however, has established a new priesthood devoted to the worship of Trinimac, the ancient hero of teh Orcs, who legend has it was devoured by Boethia and became the Daedra Malacath. The Orc King's belief that Trinimac still lives and that Malacath is a separate entity, a demon whose aim was to keep the Orsimer pariah folk forever, is the official position of the shaman priests of Orsinium. A minority of traditionalists within the territory, and the majority of Orcs without, view this as heresy. There is fear among those who support Gortwog and Orsinium that turning their back on the Daedric Prince of the Bloody Oath is dangerous policy indeed.

~ Follow for more books, journals, and notes from the Elder Scrolls series ~ Updates daily ~

[shieldslinger-a]

SKYRIM VERSE

Stats

name: sven blue-shield                                hair color: blond birthday: 4 sun’s height 1E675                     eye color: blue birthplace: solstheim                                     height: 6′2″ birthsign: the serpent                                    weight: 220lbs race: nord

History

sven was born to the skaal of solstheim during the first era, raised by sigrde the golden, the then current shaman of his tribe. she did her best to raise him according to their ways, to impart the wisdom of her teachings to him. he always listened, but his heart was more in hunting and exploring the outdoors. sven mostly minded his own business, but due to his small stature and weak frame, he was picked on by the other children for being dead weight to the tribe. he fell ill, off and on, with such frequency, that his mother decided to do the forbidden: she gave her son the curse of lycanthrope, or in her eyes, the gift of strength and health. his chances of survival were slim, but because of his strength of spirit, sven was not only able to survive, but thrive. he grew quickly after that, filling out form and becoming a gifted hunter and warrior for his people. however, in his early 20′s, sigrde passed, leaving sven to throw himself into helping his people and his island.

the dwemer were as present on solstheim as they were everywhere else, and the peaceful skaal were relatively good neighbors to the elves. on the whole, they stuck to their own respective parts of the island, occasionally meeting for trade or during travel. sven was a bit more curious and outgoing than many of his skaal brethren and ventured inside the dwemer city of nchardak once. he found their architecture and machines to be breathtaking, if intimidating.

as the conflict between the elves heightened overseas, the dwemer on solstheim began to develop new weapons to support their side. this called for an increase in resources, something that nearly brought the dwemer in conflict with the skaal. however, not seeking to fight a battle on two fronts, the dwemer opted instead to use skaal scouts to find suitable areas to mine. sven was one of those scouts for a time, until the fighting started. he, and many other skaal, grew concerned that the conflict abroad would someday be brought to their island, and wishing to prevent that, allied with the dwemer in their fight. 

the war seemed to be going their way until that fateful day at red mountain. the battle was so large and chaotic that when sven was gravely injured, he was dragged to the healers and given herbs to ease his pain and put him to sleep. different healers later believed him to be comatose, and by the time he had safely arrived back in solstheim, to be dead completely. his people buried him with honors, freezing him in ice and blessing his grave off the coast, so that his spirit, even in death, might protect the shores of solstheim.

it’s not until centuries later that his grave is hit with fierce dragon fire, causing the magic placed on his tomb to wear and the ice begin to melt. his tomb thawed and eventually released him into a new era of conflict

Residence

sven calls clockwork castle his home, especially after discovering the secrets of the current residents. he knows he must help them as much as he is able, though at the point that he discovers them, he’s not able to do much in the way of magical help.

he tends to be drawn towards the mountains and other snowy places, as the cold air seems to invigorate him rather than slow him down. the other places he calls home reflect this preference:

hendhraheim, a house in the mountains about halfway between markarth and falkreath

vlindrel hall in markarth

windstad manor just outside morthal (+ mod to make it more of an estate)

a small hut he built between dawnstar and morthaal

Factions & Work

most of sven’s work comes from his alliance with the companions, dawnguard, and the blades. he frequently takes jobs from the companions and dawnguard, though his relationship with the blades is on thin ice, considering that their leadership tends to rub him the wrong way. he also takes jobs from jarls as he passes through the city, and occasionally bringing in small goods for trade as well (like meats, furs, jewelry, etc).

Religion

while sven does not frequently practice his religion, he does believe in the all-maker as the one god-like entity in the universe. the all-maker creates and sustains all things and provides for their people when they reach oneness with the land. oneness is a kind of balance, that nothing is taken from the wilderness that is not wholly used--trees are only chopped down when absolutely necessary, every part of the animal is used when killed, and nothing is picked or killed without a need. the opposing force, called the adversary, represents greed, waste, and laziness, and often rises in power when the skaal lose sight of their goal to achieve oneness with the land.

the skaal--sven included--do not doubt the power of the aedra or daedra, but instead, realize them to be what they are: not gods, but powerful entities with incredibly long lives.

Skills

preferring sword and shield, sven is well known for the white star insignia on a  blue field (in-game i just use a pale guard’s shield, but the link provided would be closer to what sven actually has). he also tends to lean towards heavy armor, though it depends on where he is and what sort of tasking is at hand. he always carries skaal leathers, wearing them when hunting and fishing, as they are lighter and warmer than the stalhrim armor he’s known to wear into battle.

post-visit to solstheim, sven begins to practice skaal magic, as his mother tried to teach him all those years ago. his focus still remains on the physical--he still mainly wields sword and shield, but he eventually begins working ice magic into his battle technique. he is, however, rather gifted in restoration, specifically wards.

abilities list || regular use. occasional use. seldom used. taxing*.

weapons

one-handed weapons - sword preferred

shields

two-handed weapons - greatsword preferred

heavy armor

skills

smithing

speech

alchemy

magic

traditional

frostbite

freeze / ice spike / icy spear*

ice storm

wall of frost*

blizzard*

healing / fast healing / close wounds

lesser ward / steadfast ward / greater ward

healing hands / heal other / grand healing*

turn lesser undead / repel lesser undead

turn undead / repel undead*

turn greater undead*

circle of protection*

skaal

feral guardian > wild guardian

dive > cutting dive

scorch > subterranean assault

betty netch > bull netch

fungal growth > enchanted growth

healing seed > budding seeds

frost cloak > ice fortress

[tastesoftamriel]

The aftermath: epilogue (a long tale by Talviel)

Like the end of a nightmare, we burst back through the gate, still clinging to one another, the stone between us. “We did it. I can’t believe we did it.” Brynjolf panted, looking pale. It was only then we looked down and realised that the daedroth had managed to get one last swipe in at him. His armour was torn from shoulder to chest and he was bleeding profusely. He crumpled down to the ground, breathing heavily.

“Oh hell, Bryn.” I moaned, grabbing my sack and stuffing the stone in while taking out the last two potions of extreme healing I had. I lifted his head up and he sipped from the bottle feebly. “That’s it my love, drink up. You’ll be okay.” I whispered, hoping it was true.

Meanwhile, a group of Skaal had gathered around waiting for our return, their initial cheering reduced to a solemn silence when they saw Brynjolf lying on the ground, barely able to sip his potion. “Healer, we need a healer!” One of them called. Frea pushed through the throng and gasped when she saw the state Brynjolf was in. At this stage I was sobbing as he lay completely still, his face ashen and his wounds spouting blood. “You two there, lift him up and carry him to to my hut, set him down on the bed. The rest of you, go back home. The gate has been closed and there’s nothing more for you to worry about. You,” she said to me, “come with me. You’re wounded too, look at that knee and the arrow sticking out of you! It’ll be alright, come.” She said, letting me lean on her for support.

Inside the shaman’s hut, where a blessedly warm fire roared, we stripped Brynjolf of his torn armour and checked his pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Frea instructed me to wash the wounds carefully with fresh water while she prepared a healing poultice. “He’s not able to drink a healing potion now, so the best we can do is begin the healing from the outside and get him to drink some potions when he comes to.” She looked at my tear-streaked face. “He will come to, I promise. Once we stop the bleeding we can start a healing ritual and from there he should regain consciousness.”

“Just tell me what I need to do.” I mumbled, cradling Brynjolf’s head in one hand and my sack with the precious stone in the other. “First let me tend to your wounds. You’re lucky they’re not as serious as your beloved’s. Sleep now, get some rest.” Said Frea. “There’s nothing more you can do. I’ll do the rest and wake you when he comes to. Have you got any potions? Drink them, as many as you can.” She guided me to a cot and made me lie down. I clutched the sack tightly. If she noticed, she didn’t make any comment.

I slept fitfully. For hours, days, I didn’t know. I hadn’t been this bone-tired since my battle with Alduin all those years ago. I felt someone shaking my shoulder, and I slowly opened my eyes. “Good news,” said Frea, “your beloved will live. He needs your help now though.” I sat up straight, suddenly alert. “Tell me.” I said, stumbling towards the still comatose Brynjolf lying serenely in bed.

Frea began to unwrap the neat bandages she had tied around the wound to hold the poultices in place. “I’m about to perform an ancient Skaal ritual. It will seem odd to an outsider, but I ask for you to trust me.” I nodded numbly. “Right now your beloved needs blood. He was drained badly by his wound and his body needs replenishing. For this, I will need you to sacrifice some of your own for the ritual.” “Anything. Anything at all.” I mumbled. She produced a large knife and a bowl. “This bowl must be filled to the brim. Will you do it or shall I?” I took the knife from Frea. “I’ll do it.”

I rolled up the sleeve of my left arm. Wincing, I dug the knife deep into the skin of my forearm and dragged it down, holding it over the bowl. The sound of my dripping blood was loud as a drum in the silent hut. It seemed an eternity until the bowl was full, but it was. Frea bandaged a poultice to my arm. “Well done. You rest now, and drink any potion of healing you have to speed up the recovery on that arm.” “What are you going to do with that blood?” I asked. She sighed, resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t leave Brynjolf’s side. “Be still and watch. Do not interrupt the ritual.”

Dipping a hand into the bowl of my blood, she began to rub it over Brynjolf’s wounds. It left red smears across his skin, and I had to choke back tears from remembering how he bled. Frea began to chant in a tongue I didn’t understand, continuing to smear blood on Brynjolf. Before my eyes, his skin began to knit together, leaving raised white scars. The ritual continued for almost an hour, until every last drop in the bowl was gone.

Frea looked exhausted. “I must rest awhile. That healing ritual was a very draining experience, for you and me both.” “What did you do?” I asked in amazement. “Your blood replenished his blood while I chanted, multiplying by the minute. He now has enough blood to fully heal his wounds, and is fine for now, though he’ll need to drink a potion or two when he wakes up, just to be sure.” “Thank you Frea. I am in your debt.” I nodded. “And I in yours, Talviel, for closing that infernal gate that was endangering my people.” She turned away and climbed up the stairs to lie on her bed.

I held Brynjolf’s hand, drinking a potion of stamina to keep myself awake. And another one. And another one. The hours ticked by, and still he lay there with no sign of life aside from the beating of his heart and shallow breathing. Just when I was losing hope, the hand I was holding twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. “Brynjolf? Bryn, can you hear me?” I leaned in close, almost shouting in excitement. My voice woke Frea, and she came down the stairs to see what was the matter. “He moved, Frea! He moved!” I shouted, relief washing over me.

From the bed, with his eyes still closed, Brynjolf moaned. “For the love of Nocturnal, not so loud.” I gripped his hand again. “Sorry.” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear me. He gripped my hand back, and his eyelids fluttered open. “How long…” he mumbled. “Three and a half days.” Frea replied, rubbing her eyes. “I did the healing ceremony, but it’s your beloved you ought to thank. Her lifeblood saved you.” She passed him a flagon of cool water and commanded him to drink. He took small sips, gingerly raising his head as I supported him. “When you feel strong enough to sit up, I’ll need you to drink three potions. None of that foreign stuff, but Skaal remedies.”

Within an hour, Brynjolf was able to sit up, propped against some pillows. Frea passed him the potions one by one, and he drank obediently. Once that was done, she excused herself again to go rest after an arduous three days of minimal sleep. We were alone together, and he was alive. Tears welled up in my eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.” I whispered. He stroked my hand. “Well, I’m here lass. A little damaged, but here. I’ll be looking like an orc every time I take my shirt off, and I’ll have to get new armour from Tonilia, but I’m here.” He said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. I gently kissed him on the mouth. “Praise Talos and the Nine that you are.”

Brynjolf had lost his recollection of the last few moments before we grabbed the stone. I recounted everything from then until the current moment. “And…and before we closed the gate, you told me you loved me.” I said hesitantly, hoping it was true and not something he’d blurted out at the spur of the moment. “It’s true lass, I do. I love you, more than anything.” He said, leaning over carefully to kiss me on the forehead. To my annoyance, I was weeping again, but this time tears of joy. “I love you too, Bryn. I always have.” “I know lass. But you and I need some rest now. You may not be gashed, but you look a wreck yourself.” We laughed softly, and I pulled my cot next to him. We fell asleep holding hands, our chests rising and falling in unison.

A week later, Frea deemed Brynjolf fit to leave the village. His gait was still unsteady from lying still for so long, but otherwise he was healthy and in good spirits. We thanked Frea and the Skaal for their hospitality and saving Brynjolf’s life, and made our way back to Raven Rock. When we got back to Severin Manor, Brynjolf collapsed headfirst into bed. “You alright, Bryn?” I asked, worried a wound had opened. “I’ve been better, but yes, I’m alright. Come here, I haven’t hugged you in what feels like forever.” We lay together in bed, sharing our warmth in silence.

The next day, we bathed well and I instructed Brynjolf to remain in the manor while I got us some new clothes from the marketplace. Glover Mallory didn’t stock anything aside from heavy armour, which I knew Brynjolf despised, so I ended up buying some nice civilian clothing (which Brynjolf also despised) from a Redguard merchant and made my way home.

I found him sitting by the fire, holding the great sigil stone in both hands and staring at it as if without comprehension. I coughed, and he turned around. “For a great sigil stone, this doesn’t look very great to me. All our effort for this.” “Don’t forget the excellent loot we picked up from those creepy pods along the way. Even with what we give to the High King, the Guild will be rolling in gold once we sell what we don’t need.” I reminded him, tossing the new clothes into his lap. He groaned when he held them up for inspection. “Really, Vi?” He spluttered. “Sorry, all I could get unless you wanted a full suit of armour, and not of the Thieves Guild variety.” I apologised.

A few days later, we stood at the docks waiting to board the ship headed for Skyrim. The stone and our loot were securely locked in a large chest that we had to carry between us, and people looked at us quizzically as we hauled it onto the boat. “We’ll need a carriage to bring all this back to Solitude.” Brynjolf said, looking frankly dashing in his new outfit. “Oh please, if you’re going to complain about how much a carriage costs, I’m going to boot you into the ocean right now.” I sighed. “Fair point, lass, fair point.” He smiled.

The ship came to life with sudden commotion. The captain hollered for his crew to get in order, then signalled for the passengers to board. Slowly but surely, the ship pulled away from the dock and set out into open water. Brynjolf held me, resting his head on top of mine as we looked at the sunrise. “We’re going home, lass. We made it.” I turned around to peck him on the cheek. “That we did, Bryn, that we did.”