[center][u][b]Eastmarch wilderness, 11th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 205[/b][/u][/center]

[center][u][b]Rorik[/b][/u][/center]

It was another cloudy day in Eastmarch as Rorik waited impatiently just out of sight of the walls of Windhelm. He’d been camped here for close to a week now, waiting for Orla, a Nord woman who grew up with Rorik on the same farmstead. They came across each other’s paths as she was returning from Windhelm after delivering some vegetables to the capital. They’d spoken for a little while and about the reasons why he’d deserted the Stormcloaks. It turned out it was big news on the farm when soldiers had come looking for him at his home. Rorik hadn’t been home to see his parents and siblings since he did it, feeling too ashamed and believing they wouldn’t understand his reasons for leaving. He told her about needing to get into the city but for obvious reasons he couldn’t just walk through the front gates, this is when she agreed to smuggle him in the next time she was going into the city to sell food. The first night after he spoke to her, he hadn’t slept not knowing whether she would tell someone about him holding up close by. After a few days though he believed she had kept her promise.

It was early morning when she arrived on a big cart with two horse towing it. The cart was full of all sorts of veg and a few butchered pigs. Also, two big barrels at the front of the cart. Rorik smiled when he first saw her, Orla was the first woman he’d ever kissed and he had liked her ever since he could remember. She was a year older than him and when they were younger, she was always taller than him and stronger and when they wrestled with each other, it was always Orla who ended up pinning him, but Rorik had never really been too upset about that. “Hello Orla, I’m glad you to see you.” He shouted down to her as she got closer.

“I’m sure you are little Rori.” She replied using the same name she had always used for him, when they were younger everyone had called him that but now he was probably the tallest from his farmstead and she only said it to tease him. Orla laughed when she saw the expression on his face. “Do you still get upset with that name?”

“Well… no one really calls me that anymore.” Rorik answered. “Also, I’m a head taller than you so it doesn’t make sense.” Rorik studied her thinking she was just as beautiful as he remembered. She had golden blonde hair that was platted down to her waist and the colour of her eyes were a deep blue, you couldn’t help but stare at her eyes.

Orla smiled devilishly at him. “Well, you’ll always be little Rori to me.” She jumped off the back of the wagon and pointed to one of the big barrels. “Come and take one of these off and empty it. Well, you might as well go and pour it near your horse, give him something good to eat.” She looked at the little camp he’d made for himself. “No one really comes down this path so I can’t see anyone finding him or your camp.” 

Rorik heaved the massive barrel onto his shoulder and it was heavier than he had expected it to be. He moved as quick as he possibly could and dumped a massive pile of leeks out next to his horse and dropped the barrel next to him. Rorik looked up at his horse who was just looking right back him. “Don’t worry fella, you’ve plenty to eat and drink and I can’t see myself being longer than a day… hopefully.” He patted the horse’s neck then turned back around. “So where will I be hiding?”

Orla shook her head and answered with a question. “Why do you think you emptied that barrel for?”

“Will I fit?” Rorik asked staring down at the barrel unsure.

“You will… you’ll be very uncomfortable but you’ll fit.” 

Before he went back to the cart, he took one final look to make sure his armour and axe were hidden well enough inside a hollow tree where he had made the camp. He thought he didn’t want to look too suspicious with armour on so he decided on just plain clothes, a cloak and a dagger. Grabbing the barrel, he went to the cart and put it back on and jumped onto the cart and looked at Orla. “Thank you, Orla. I really needed your help.”

Orla smiled at him and replied, “Stop being so soppy and get in the barrel. Besides I know you’ll make it up to me one day.” She winked at him making him blush.

He folded his knees in the barrel and curled into some ball and suddenly it went dark when Orla put the lid on the barrel. “Please keep me safe Talos.” Rorik whispered a little prayer to himself, trying to think whether this was the smartest of plans but he knew he couldn’t stay in hiding for the rest of his life. A second later the cart started to move, it was too late for him to back out now.

[hr]
[hr]

The journey felt like an eternity to Rorik, he was just too big to be stuffed inside a barrel. The longer he stayed in there, the more he started to think he could have just hidden under a blanket in the back of the cart and Orla put him in there as a joke. They got through the gates easy enough. The guards both knew her seeing that she’d go into the city every week. Even if they didn’t know her, she was so beautiful that she could convince the guards to let her through without checking what she had. 

A few minutes later, light flooded back into the barrel and Rorik got a tap on the head. “Come on you can get out now.” Orla said and straight away Rorik shot out then started to stretch, his back had gotten very stiff being hunched over for so long. He looked around to see that they were in an alleyway with no one around. “Are you sure you want to go through with this Rorik? It’s not too late to go back on this plan… I just don’t think you’ve thought it out well enough.” Orla stared at him as he got out of the barrel and instead of her usual teasing smile, she actually looked concerned. “I’ll take you back out the city tonight when I’m leaving… I… I just don’t want you getting into any harm for some stupid cause.”

Rorik looked at her and smiled, “A stupid cause for a stupid person.” He said as he jumped into the street. He held her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Orla.” They looked at each other in the eyes before Rorik continued to speak. “I have to go though, I don’t think I can just sit by and not do anything, I need to fight for my country.” 

A tear started to run down her face before she wiped it away and laughed. “If anything does happen to you though, I’ll come to Sovengarde myself and beat you up… just because you’re bigger than me now doesn’t mean I couldn’t take you out.” Suddenly she grabbed him by the collar, pulled him close and kissed him. When they broke apart Rorik still had his eyes closed, he tried to speak but only a moan came out. “Well, it’s good to know I can still make you speechless.” She said as she rode off. Rorik just stood there and watched her. 

Say something to her you fool, Rorik thought to himself. “Look after my horse if I’m gone for a while.” He shouted to her as she was halfway down the street. He turned around and shook his. “Out of everything you could have said you talk about your horse.” Rorik said out loud to himself feeling like a fool for the hundredth time as he slapped his head.

The first and only place he thought about going was The Boars head Inn, a tavern that was opened up by his old commander who had retired a few years before named, Bjorn. The commander was an angry Nord but one who also fair and kind to people who needed it and would always do what was morally right. Rorik saw him as a father figure. 

Rorik lifted the hood of his cloak and went to the inn. The walk there was uneventful with the streets being busy and everyone more bothered about their own business.

The Boars Head was a very standard tavern in the same style as most of the other taverns in Skyrim. There was a long table in the centre with all smaller tables running along the side, at one end there was a huge fire place and above it a boards head hung on the wall. A few people sat drinking and a Nord woman was singing a slow sad song, it wasn’t really the happy environment someone would want from a tavern, but everyone seemed to be sticking to themselves which suited Rorik.

As he looked around the place, Rorik saw Bjorn leaning against the bar, the same scowl on his face that he always had. When Rorik walked over to him the expression stayed the same, the one eye that Rorik had left just stared straight at Rorik. His chest and arms were as big as a bear and he was as hairy as one except for the top of his head since he’d become bald. “Didn’t expect to see you in these parts again lad.” Bjorn said with a slight nod. 

Rorik walked over and sat on a stool next to the bar, Bjorn pushed a mug of ale towards him. Rorik started to speak, “Yes, I didn’t really expect to be in this city again, but I needed to come back.” He took a swig of the drink.

“Do I even want to know why you’ve come back.” 

Rorik looked around and leant in, whispering, “I heard about a res…”

“Shut your bloody mouth right now.” Bjorn interrupted him and pointed his finger right into his face and then pointed to a door behind him. “Get in the back right now.” Rorik marched into the back without questioning his commands. As he walked into the back, Bjorn pushed him forward to get in quicker, he was smaller than Rorik and a few decades older but was still stronger. He slammed the door shut behind him. “Are you actually serious Rorik, you’re here to join the bloody resistance.” You could see the anger in his eye but he kept his deep voice low. “Are you wanting your head on a pike outside the walls, because that’s the way you’re heading lad.” Bjorn just shook his head at him. “To be honest I don’t think losing your head would do you much harm.” He let out a raspy chuckle but went back to the usual stern face straight after. “You’re really ready to betray your brothers and sisters for people who aren’t even your own?”

Rorik just looked at him with an almost sad expression. “I’ll never betray my own and I’ll always want Skyrim to be ruled by us, but we can’t get there on the back of others, this isn’t the right way.” 

There was a short silence before Bjorn let out a sigh and sat down on a chair. “I’m afraid you might be right, I never thought I’d see the day that you’re right but you are. Skyrim’s becoming a country I don’t recognize anymore, our fight for freedom quickly changed to just enslaving others.” He sat there and thought for a while, “I have heard whispers and rumours of people in here talking, give me day or two I’ll find someone you can speak with.”

“Cheers Bjorn.” Was all that Rorik managed to say.

“Yes, yes, you’re very grateful, but you don’t need to get sentimental. You’re not leaving my attic though until I find someone, you’ll definitely get caught if you start wondering around Windhelm blabbering about a resistance.” 

They stayed in the back for a while chatting about old memories and catching up, it was nice for Rorik, he’d not really made a friend since leaving the army.