IV. Companions
I took the north road out of Riverwood toward Whiterun, still unsure of what I might do when I reached this larger town. Could I just lose myself in its bustle, or would I find myself there?
Whatever its problems, this is beautiful country. The river I'd been following since Helgen filled the forest with its roars and whispers. Deer and elk roam near the roadside and rabbits are so abundant that I nearly tripped over them as I ran. Then there are the wolves...plenty of them, too. Had to kill a couple on the way, but the pelts are sure to put a few coins in my pocket.
I could see what I assumed to be Whiterun through the trees in the distance, but up ahead on the road an Imperial patrol made me turn away. I was still wearing the Stormcloak armor I had scavenged on my escape from Helgen, and they would not like that at all I was certain. I sprinted off through the trees and down a steep embankment toward the city. I had barely reached level ground when I ran headlong into an armed and armored trio working hard to bring down a giant, right in the middle of a field of cabbages! The creature dwarfed the three, and for no good reason whatsoever, I joined the fight. We brought the thing down within minutes. The woman fighter, Aela, told me that I looked like someone who might fit in with a group she called The Companions ...professional warriors, as she described them, always looking for new talent. Well, I am not sure I fit that bill or want to, but I thanked her and headed toward the city.
This may have all been for naught. Whiterun was in lockdown. Evidently, they had heard about the dragon. Turns out I had the password for entry. I told the guard on duty that I was there with a report from Helgen, and I had to see the Jarl. He let me in. I did not go to see the Jarl. Not yet, but I will. If this Balgruuf needed me to tell him that his unwalled town only a couple of miles away should have reinforcements against a dragon attack everyone already knew about, then nothing I could contribute would make much of a difference to the situation.
Besides, I had my own problems to deal with.
It wasn't long before I found the place Aela had spoken of, the home of The Companions. Along with the Jarl's palace, Dragonsreach, Jorrvaskr (a massive ship-like longhouse) dominates Whiterun's "wind district" (a commentary on the weather around here?). I hesitated at the foot of their steps. I am not much of a group person, I think. Being alone or with a close friend seems fine to me. Communities always mean conflicts, and I hate the petty jealousies and snarky undertones that seem to be common in so many self-proclaimed close-knit groups. And these Companion folks are fighters by nature! Two of them were engaged in an enthusiastic fist fight when I entered their hall the first time. Someone said they were "just letting a little blood clear the air." There are other ways to handle conflict. But the fact is that I do need some connections and a place to lay my head once in a while. Maybe Jorrvaskr will do for now.
Well, after showing them that I do know how to swing a sword, I am in, at least on a trial basis. They are pretty much what I expected. They all have their stories about how joining The Companions turned their lives around, fulfilled a childhood dream, or gave them purpose when they had none. The rank-and-file were friendly enough, but predictably skeptical about newcomers like me being able to meet their expectations.
The leader--Harbinger, they call him--Kodlak Whitemane seems like a man I could learn to like. He radiates wisdom, understated authority, and self-effacing geniality. They say he's really more of a guide than a leader, with every Companion responsible for his or her own decisions. That sounds like a workable balance for me.
Even so, there was the standard verbal hazing thrown at me in the communal sleeping quarters by some of the other just-past-junior members. It's the way of things in such groups. I suppose I must pay my dues as a "new blood" and a "whelp." (They do like their canine metaphors) You need to have confidence you can trust someone to have your back in critical situations, after all, and that takes time.
The first job The Companions sent me on called for knocking some sense into some local rube for something or other. Don't hurt him too much, just make your point, Vilkas said. The target worked at the city stables, but I have no idea what the reason was for the message I delivered. He did seem to get it though. And Vilkas was happy with the results. Me, too, since I got paid 200 septims. Ah, Vilkas and Farkas, the Companion Brothers. Vilkas is the "brains" and Farkas is the "muscle." Don't get them confused (they do look a lot alike). If I were a little younger.......
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I’ve been in Whiterun long enough now to see that the locals are reasonably sociable for the most part. Adrianne, the blacksmith who runs the weapons-and-armor shop Warmaidens along with her partner Ulfberth War-Bear, is friendly and helpful. She walked me through some basic smithing, and said I showed some talent. Her work is competent (though I hear that there is a master smith in town as well, at something called the Sky Forge), and her praise for mine was nice to hear. The skills seemed familiar to me. I can't say why, but I knew I could do more than what she expected, if I had the right materials. A couple nights later, I visited the forge after hours and crafted some better arrows for myself than the dull few I had picked up so far. They should help with the wolves and the bears.
As everywhere, there are exceptions to the rule of likable citizenry. Unfortunately, some of them are shopkeepers. That Belethor, the Breton who owns the general store, is insufferable. I've seen court jesters with subtler manners. And when he crowed that he would sell his sister if he had one, I almost walked out. His shop is the only place in town to get what I needed though, so I am forced to endure his over-the-top friendliness and his disdainful, "do come again" parting shot. Ugh!
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I had scarcely returned from my initial outing for The Companions when I was summoned by one of the senior members. Skjor is a big Nord who obviously expects people to listen when he talks. He's also a member of something called the Circle--from what I gather, a core of elite Companions who hand out jobs and direct the group's activities. Kind of clashes with the "no leaders" ethic I heard from Kodlak, but perhaps I just don't know enough about how everything works here yet. I can go along with the program, for the time being.
Skjor had a ‘special’ assignment for me: to accompany Farkas to a nearby barrow and recover some fragments of Wuuthrad that The Companions had learned were being held there. The fragments are part of a Companion artifact, their Holy Grail of sorts, bits of an ancient battleaxe once used by The Companions' founder, Ysgramor. This run will be my membership trial, Skjor said. So....it's not so much me accompanying Farkas, but him observing me regarding my "honorable" conduct during the mission. Not sure just what that means, but we will see. If there are enemies in this place we're headed, Dustman's Cairn, will we kill them "honorably" to pry the fragments from their dead fingers, or might we negotiate “honorably” for the return of our prize. Somehow, I doubt it will be the latter.
I still have reservations about becoming a full-fledged member of the Companions. Their particular skill set is undeniably useful in a land where might generally makes right. They like to present themselves as nobly fighting in behalf of the victimized and threatened. Seems principled enough; not everyone is a warrior, and sometimes bullies need to be put down by those with the power to do such things. Still, on the heels of nearly every pronouncement of an honorable mission successfully completed, there is a sly comment on the coin earned in the process. A question that haunts me more and more as I come to know The Companions better is this: Are they a noble band of brothers dedicated to helping the downtrodden and abused, or are they just ordinary mercenaries with a fancy backstory to disguise the self-interest and lust for the fight? Perhaps the answer is somewhere in the middle. Usually is. Still, Kodlak himself said that the difference between a noble band of warriors and a ragged bunch of assassins is razor thin.
Off to meet Farkas at Dustman's Cairn. What will I find there?
