Lutherus Sotasius - Chapter I, Part III

• Posted by Dean Morrison May 30, 2016 - Filed in TSC: Skyrim - #  ##Dean #Morrison #Lutherus #Sotasius  - 1,104 views

   THE WARRIOR'S SPIRIT
  

  From the Journal of Lutherus Sotasius. Date of Entry: Last Seed, 17th, 4E, 201.
  
  

  

  "Fantastic!" Celebrated Proventus. "You look as menacing as a Nord Berserker!"

  

  Lutherus wasn't too sure. He felt rather silly, wearing a battle dress despite his inability to draw swords. "How does the plate fit? Mmm? Not too tight?" Queried Proventus.

   

  "No, it's...actually quite snug." Replied Lutherus, still unsure about the fit.

   

  "Fantastic! Now, I do believe the Jarl wished for your attention downstairs. Best not to keep him waiting!"

   

  "Very well, thank you, Proventus." Replied Lutherus, as he clanked back down to the Jarl. Lutherus met with him in a room away from the central hall of Dragonsreach, and another member of his court whose appearance give Lutherus the assumption that he was somewhat of a recluse and prefered his privacy.

   

  "Ah, Lutherus." Said the Jarl. "Nice fit!" He added, commenting on Lutherus' new armor.

   

  "Yes, what good armor will do when your enemy is casting a lightning bolt down your spine." Came an offshot comment from the recluse.

   

  "Farengar!" Snapped Jarl Balgruuf. He turned to Lutherus. "Don't mind him, he's very 'precious' over his methods of teaching."

   

  "I'll have you know that the study of Magi is perhaps one of the most well honed-"

   

  "Farengar!" Exclaimed Jarl Balgruuf, cutting off the man - Farengar, in the process. "I am not here to debate Sword vs. Staff with you. This is Lutherus, the man who alerted us about Helgen."

  

  Farengar approached Lutherus with intrigue. He studied him, top to bottom, head to toe, examining him as if he were a map.

   

  "This is him?" He pondered. "This, bag of bones? You want to send him there?"

   

  "No." Replied the Jarl. "In his current state, he wouldn't stand a fight against a Draugr. No offence lad."

   

  Lutherus replied with a nod.

   

  "You, can speak boy. Don't be frightened."

   

  "N...none taken, Sire." Muttered Lutherus, as Farengar withdrew from his study. "Where is it you wish to send me, if I may ask?"

   

  Farengar pointed to a location on a map. "Here. Bleak Falls Barrow. An ancient Nord tomb."

   

  Lutherus remembered Hadvar mentioning the Barrow on his way from Helgen, how it gave him nightmares knowing the Draugr monstrosities roamed it's halls.

   

  "My studies are convinced that there is something in that tomb of grave importance. A possible relic of some sorts. I need you to locate it for me."

   

  "How do you expect me to pull that off? I am but a bag of bones." Replied Lutherus, a slight cusp of sarcasm on the latter half of his comment.

   

  "You won't be going by yourself. You've been to Riverwood, yes?"

   

  "I have, I'm lodging there tonight."

   

  "From what I recall there is a Bosmer native residing there as well." Interjected Jarl Balgruuf. "He is proficient with the bow and arrow, a perfect mentor for your training and accomplice for your expedition."

   

  Lutherus took a moment to take in this new found responsibility. "Mentoring, Expeditions...how am I to pay for this?"

   

  "I would pay for it out of my purse, but with the Dragon about I have had to devote my extra Septim to recruiting more Guards for Riverwood and Whiterun as well. I'm sorry Lutherus, but you will have to find a way of paying for your own training."

   

  "Ah, because it's that easy isn't it? I can just conjure the Septim needed!"

   

  "Don't be so naive, Lutherus." Replied the Jarl, a tint of caution on his words. "With this war comes great opportunity for coin. You can take up some labor in Riverwood, cutting logs. The roads are rife with Bandit activity, perfect bounty targets."

   

  "Don't forget the Embershard mine, Jarl Balgruuf."

   

  The Jarl nodded. "Hod could always do with more people at the Mill, and I'm sure as I recall, that Elf works there now."

   

  "What is his name?" Asked Lutherus.

   

  "Oh, that's a tricky one. Um...Frodian? No, that's not it...Fluendale? Fraedal?"

   

  Lutherus lost patience. "Look, not to worry. I can find him out for myself. If he is still in Riverwood, it shouldn't be hard to tell him apart from the Nord occupants."

   

  "Good. That's settled then." Replied Farengar. "I'm sorry we can't be of more assistance."

   

  Lutherus simply nodded. "Please, pass on my thanks again to Proventus for this armor." And with that, exited Dragonsreach. "Might as well see what these Jorrvaskr lot are about then." Said Lutherus to himself, as he meandered around Whiterun.

   

  As it turned out, finding Jorrvaskr was to be quite the challenge, only increased by the fact that Aela, the warrior mistress who mentioned the society, forgot to mention to Lutherus where in Whiterun they were based. Meandering around the Cloud District, Lutherus was able to find a Guard.

   

  "Excuse me, Guard? I am looking for 'Jorrvaskr'. Can you show me directions?"

   

  The Guard, looked at Lutherus perplexed. "Are you mad, boy? It's right there. On your right."

  

  "Damn Imperials." Muttered the Guard to himself as he continued on his way. Lutherus looked up to the oval hut. Sitting above a rise of stairs Jorrvaskr stood. Lutherus climbed the stairs slowly, unsure of what to expect on the other side. With his right hand, he pushed on the huge, wooden door. Upon entering, Lutherus was alarmed to hear the clashing of fist against body, as two inhabitants of the building had at each other at fisticuffs.

  

  "Right hook! Now thrust! Come on Njada! Get in there and fight!" Came the commentary from one observer.

   

  "Getting beaten by an girl, Athis? Pull your finger out!" Came another.

   

  Lutherus joined in the circle of observers as they watched the female, and the male Dunmer fight. Fists, blood and sweat swung around the room, until the Dunmer keeled over in exhaustion. That was when a much older male interjected, and broke up the fight.

   

  The Dunmer, still taking a knee from the fight to catch his collected breath, was helped to his feet by the female he just fought, and lost to.

   

  "Good fight, Athis." Mentioned the female to the Dunmer.

   

  "Aye, and to you, Njada." He replied.

   

  Lutherus was stunned. Sure, back in Cyrodiil his Father, the late General Silaric Sotasius would regale stories of his swordplays with the other Imperial Officers, but this was something different. This was raw, barebones fighting. The elder gentlemen, responsible for marshalling the fight between Njada and Athis, approached Lutherus with interest.

   

  "Companions! We have a guest." Proudly exclaimed the man. "What is your name boy?"

   

  Lutherus stared at the man, noting a particularly large gash running down the left side of his face, and the white that filled his eye on the same side. Figuring the man out as the commander of these 'Companions', Lutherus dropped to a knee in a sign of respect.

   

  "Lutherus Sotasius, my lord." He announced, head bowed to the man's feet.

   

  Laughter erupted in the hall, much to Lutherus' confusion. "Quiet!" Shouted the man, before turning to Lutherus. "Stand up lad, I'm not the Emperor! And I'm certainly nobodies Lord. My name is Skjor. Refer to me as such."

   

  Lutherus rose to his feet once more. "Yes, Skjor."

   

  "That's better. Now, Lutherus." Said Skjor, raising a hand of welcoming to the young lad's shoulder as he guided him to a chair at the food table. "Tell me, why have you seeked out the Companions?"

   

  Lutherus sat, alongside Skjor. "Well." He started. "Aela thought that I could seek guidance and training in the arts of combat here."

   

  Skjor looked on, as he took a bite out of a chicken leg. "Well, a community of combatants we are, Lutherus. But we are not an Academy. We are a Guild of warriors, the only type to exist exclusively in Skyrim. And, whilst we lend our swords to the highest bidder, we have no core allegiance. Honour before Duty."

   

  "HONOR BEFORE DUTY." Came the syncronised reply from the rest of the Companions.

   

  "I see." Replied Lutherus. "So, I cannot join?"

   

  "I never said you couldn't." Replied Skjor. "But, I see you haven't even a sword, only that bow and arrow. Could I possibly extend to suggest you are naught experienced in both?"

   

  "No, I am not." Replied Lutherus.

   

  "Mhmm. Perhaps it is in your interest to go out, and become one with your surroundings. Learn to hold a sword correctly. Lend your Armor to a local who needs protecting. Train yourself to become one with the Warrior's spirit. Only after you achieve that, would I suggest you return."

   

  Lutherus looked around, Aela was not in sight. Skjor's words were as profound as his sheathed blade, and had some impact on Lutherus.

   

  "Very well Skjor, I shall contemplate your request."

   

  "It's not a request boy. Just some heeded advice." Replied Skjor to Lutherus, as he rose from his chair to leave. "These times are trialling, war looms everywhere. It doesn't hurt now to know how to defend yourself." Skjor pointed to his head. "It is clear you know how to use this." Skjor then pointed to his blade. "But, a true man of intellect knows how to use this as well."

   

  Lutherus nodded, contemplating what Skjor had said. "Thank you." He replied, as he exited.

   

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