An Orc and a Nord Walk Into a Bar...
Grubnog shifted in his seat as his beat up Nord companion came back with two mugs of ale. He grunted as a way of saying thanks, watching her as she sat down in the chair across from his seat at the table.
“I must ask, I’m curious as to why an Orc is here of all places- we’re nowhere near a stronghold,” Jofris said.
No, they weren’t. There wasn’t any orc strongholds in The Pale. Well, not anymore.
“Is it so odd for an adventurer, who happens to be an orc, to wander into this secluded in on his travels?” Grubnog asked sarcastically. “Though I do find myself with a surprising lack of things to do.”
“I suppose not,” Jofris mumbled. She looked back to the orc. “There’s a lack of things to do? I mean, bandits are everywhere, giants roam the land, and it seems like there’s a dragon flying about. How have you run out of things to do?”
Grubnog laughed at her suggestions, before taking a large swig of ale. “Bandits are a bore by now- seeing how many I’ve cleared out. Now giants- I’m not dumb enough to fight those alone, and same thing with that dragon. Unless I find two or three more companions, maybe then I’ll take some of your suggestions.”
They sat in silence for a couple moments. Grubnog studied her. She wasn’t extremely young, but she was old enough to be traveling on her own. She seemed like she had a couple stories to tell. She stared into her own mug as she was thinking.
He did too- but he wouldn’t share his stories with a stranger. Maybe in time.
At the end of the comfortable silence, Jofris spoke up. “I have an idea.”
“Really?” He asked in a joking tone.
“You need people to travel with, as well as things to do, and I’m traveling to one of the previous marvels of Skyrim,” She explained.
“Which would be?” He asked.
“Winterhold. More specifically the College of Winterhold. Winterhold itself used to be a grand city, but a natural disaster destroyed most everything except the college and a select few buildings. It’s certainly interesting there, as magic always is,” She explained. “You should come with me.”
Grubnog had to admit that Jofris was surprisingly convincing, seeing as now he was walking on an icy road, heading north as it got colder and colder. They had passed a travelling merchant almost an hour ago, and he had bought himself a cloak in an attempt to stay warmer.
Jofris didn’t have such problems, much like most Nords. Orcs usually were able to withstand the cold, but not as much as the Nords. It must have had something to do with their ancestry or something. He didn’t really care.
Throughout the trip, Jofris and Grubnog didn’t talk much. They spoke when they made camp, or when either of them would point out anything of interest. Once, he asked her about the college.
“So, this College of Winterhold, huh? What do you do there, study books, cast spells? Become bankers?” He asked, trying to figure out why they were going there.
Jofris scoffed at his suggestions. “No. Well, yes to some of that. From what I’ve heard, it’s one of the few public places in Skyrim to learn magic and practice it freely. That’s why I want to go there. I want to learn magic- more specifically more about the School of Destruction. Though I would like to study Alteration or Restoration on the side.”
“Seems pretty straightforward,” Grubnog replied.
“From my experience, magic is anything but that.”
They were almost to their destination- one more day’s walk, and soon they would arrive at Winterhold. The journey had taken longer than Grubnog expected, but what could he do when the blizzard rolled in?
They had to make camp to wait through it, losing precious time. Jofris was slightly annoyed, but she understood that the college could wait.
The blizzard wouldn’t, however, so Jofris was energetic when they were finally able to leave. Grubnog almost couldn’t keep up- he had to ask her to slow down several times, but she almost never did.
Only at one point did she stop. Grubnog could tell something was wrong, as his companion stopped dead in her tracks. She stared to the road ahead. And motioned him to hurry up and join her.
When he finally caught up he was almost breathless. Jofris was moving so fast, while he was held back by his steel armor, as well as the huge warhammer strapped to his back.
“Look,” She said, pointing to the snow ahead.
“I don’t see anything,” He said as he looked ahead, to where she had pointed.
But then he did see. He wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. He thought it was a pile of snow, before he realized it was attached to an arm.
Jofris turned to him as if to ask him about what they should do. Without words, he nodded, and they came to a silent agreement. They rushed ahead and knelt by the snow as they dug up the buried person.
A very unusual person indeed.
