Road to Fortune
Written by NIL
Act 1: The Past
Chapter 2: Adventurer
It was a summer night when Janrig first met Balrund. Janrig was a man of tradition. Every day he would take on his sellsword task, and every night he would return, unharmed to the Bannered Mare, where he would eat a Horker roast with the finest Honningbrew mead. If he were a nobleman, he would have spent his nights perhaps reading, or courting while drinking Cyrodilic brandy. But Janrig was a man of simple tastes. He enjoyed his stay in the Bannered Mare. It was warm, and comforting. Not to mention he enjoyed the bard's singing very much so. He often wondered if he should quit his sellsword business and become a bard, but he was also often reminded in his musical skills. And today, he also had that thought, and he shook his head and gulped down his mead.
He was onto his eighth mug when the door opened and something heavy walked in. The thudding of the wood underneath the rusty steel armor, the rhythm of his strides told Janrig that this man was not to be trifled with. Unfortunately, Janrig was in a bad mood that night, as he was once again turned down by his love interest, Sadriel, a high elf. This proceeded immediately into violence as he began to pick a fight with the stranger.
"Hey stranger! Haven't seen you around these parts. Where are you from?" He asked.
The stranger did not answer however, but merely paid the owner for his drink: Alto wine.
"I'm talking to you!" Janrig shouted as he stumbled onto the stool next to the stranger.
The man glanced at Janrig, with his deep, black eyes making a fierce glow behind a messy curtain of even darker hair.
"You are drunk, friend. I suggest you go back to your seat." He said, with a voice gruff and low, almost like a lion's growl.
"And if you must know," He replied after a swig of wine.
"I am from Solitude."
This only made Janrig angrier.
"Hear that? He's from Solitude! Why's a city man like you doing here in Whiterun? I bet your'e here to take Sadriel!" Now Janrig was rambling, with all sense of logic gone.
"What?" The man asked, confused.
But instead of explaining, Janrig's fist flew across the man's face, and his fist impacted against the man's jaw, causing a mix of blood and wine to spew out of the man's mouth, as he toppled onto the floor.
Janrig laughed as he crouched down to examine the man he had bested. However, his view was met with an uppercut that sent two of his teeth into the air, and also knocked him onto the ground. The man then got a nearby chair and with some rope, managed to tie down Janrig as he lay unconscious. The man then returned to the table, as he swept his long, messy hair across and continued on his drink slowly, and uninterrupted.
It was not until the stranger had finished his third drink that Janrig began stirring. He opened his eyes slowly to feel the rushing pain through his jawbone. He groaned, and through his blurred vision he saw the man who had punched him walking towards him.
"Maybe you should watch your liquor friend."
The man said as he began untying Janrig.
"I'm sorry about that. No hard feelings?" Janrig smiled.
The man chuckled.
"None. I like a good brawl, once in a while."
When the man was done, he hoisted Janrig up and they both went back to their original seats, side by side on their stools.
"Name's Balrund." The man finally answered.
"Janrig." He said, as he offered his hand.
"I've heard of you. Aren't you a famous sellsword?"
Janrig laughed.
"I didn't know I was that famous."
"I've heard stories." Balrund said as he passed a mug of mead to Janrig.
"The bandit fort near Riverwood. Impressive work."
Janrig scoffed.
"I hardly did anything. Shout loud enough, and those idiots think there's a monster nearby. All I did was kill 3 out of the possible 30 that were in that tower."
Balrund smiled as he took a gulp of Honningbrew mead. He wiped his rough, black beard with the back of his hand.
"I have a proposition for you."
"Oh?" Now the Janrig was interested.
"I'm gathering a group of men to go on an expedition with me. It's funded by a rich wizard."
"How much are you willing to pay me?" Janrig asked.
Balrund grinned. 'Money first. Perfect.' He thought.
"You will be paid 3500 Septims."
Janrig splurted out his drink.
"You what!?"
With a calm, smiling face, Balrund informed him again.
"4500 Septims to you, as an individual, guaranteed once we reach our destination."
Janrig's gaze froze on Balrund's smiling face.
"Seems too good to be true. Why is this expedition so important?" He asked.
"We are heading towards Dwarven ruins mostly. Also...."
He leaned in and whispered into Janrig's ear.
Janrig's gaze was even more frozen this time, with his eyes bulging widely in their sockets.
He gasped, and then a wide grin cracked upon his face, lifting his brown beard upwards.
"You're crazy! Such an adventure! Oh the wonders I could see! Count me in friend!" He exclaimed, as he slammed a friendly punch on Balrund's shoulder.
"Excellent. I will prepare the necessary documents for your pledge." Balrund rose and walked out of the inn.
'4500 Septims! Wow! What I could do with all that money...' Janrig thought.
The next day
Janrig woke up in one of the cozy rooms inside the Bannered Mare. He clumsily rubbed his aching head and jaw, and began putting on his armor.
'Today is the start of the adventure!' He thought.
He was to meet Balrund at the stables soon, and he was eager to meet him again. His heart leapt with joy at the thought of an adventure.
'And for 4500 Septims, no less!' He thought.
When he was younger, Janrig had explored the mountains near his village with his friends, but that excitement was short lived, as they quickly became bored of the repetitive landscape. However, Janrig now was given an opportunity to feel that joy of venturing into the unknown, except this time that joy would be greatly increased, perhaps even by a hundredfold.
Humming 'Ragnar the Red,' Janrig picked up his sword, and walked out the doors with a light step.
Out in the barn, Balrund was waiting for him on a black horse that matched his hair. In the daylight, he seemed out of place, like a burnt tree among a patch of bright green grass.
"Had a good night's sleep?" Balrund asked.
"My jaw hurts."
Balrund laughed.
"Come on. I've got a horse for you. It'll be a while before we reach our next destination so try to conserve your strength."
Janrig nodded as he walked over to his horse: A bronze, large one with white patches that brightened in the sun.
"Where are we headed now?" He asked.
"We ride to Winterhold first. However..."
Janrig looked up from his horse.
"However?"
"My instructions were to recruit more members until I deemed us worthy. I have heard rumors of a potential candidate in Riften but it is only a rumor... Nevermind. We ride to Winterhold."
Balrund then pulled on his horses' reigns and began riding off into the distance, with Janrig attempting to catch up behind him.
End of Chapter 2
