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Krystal Gaercroft, traveling healer and acolyte of Mara, laughed kindly.
"Oh, you don't have anything to worry about, Halfdan. This isn't the easiest life, but the good we do is important. There's always a place for you at the temple, whatever you decide to do."
"Hm, I suppose." Halfdan, a young Nord and new initiate into the temple of Mara, kicked a rock in the road.
Halfway between Markath and Rorikstead, the two acolytes had been fortunate enough to find their journey unhindered thus far. Even at their leisurely pace, they should reach Frostfruit Inn just before nightfall, stopping to rest and continue their journey in the morning.
"But what if. . . What if serving Mara isn't for me? What if a few months from now I realize I want to prepare the dead for Akatosh, or join the Vigilant of Stendarr?"
"I don't think the gods mind who you serve, so long as good things are put into the world."
"Huh, I've never thought of it that way." Halfdan smiled. "You're a very kind woman, my lady."
Krystal returned his smile. She was about to offer further advice, but faltered. Several steps down the road stood a group of five, all wearing leather or hide armor and armed to the teeth. They laughed and ribbed each other as the acolytes took notice of them and slowed. Their leering grins made Krystal's skin crawl.
When they were only two steps away, the armed group closed in on them. One Nord in a full set of leather armor with an elven mace strapped to his hip came toe to toe with them, towering over Krystal. She gasped when she heard the clanking of even more armed people, her stomach dropping when she turned to find that seven more had closed in behind them. Krystal and Halfdan were completely surrounded.
"What're you two? Priests?" The Nord Krystal assumed was in charge sneered, gesturing to their golden robes. "What's two priests doing so far out of their temples, hm?"
Krystal spoke with a shaky voice, staying close to Halfdan. "We're not priests, we're acolytes at the temple of Mara. We're traveling to other temples to volunteer our services to those in need."
"Ohho, so you're at the bottom of that food chain." The man's friends snickered, though Krystal couldn't tell why they thought that was funny. "You must have made a lot of gold, selling yourselves across the holds."
"She said we're volunteers," Halfdan snapped. "We help people and carry supplies between the temples because it is good."
"Oh! Because it's good! Because it's just! You're bringing tears to my eyes!" The leader fawned condescendingly, making his band laugh more. Then suddenly, though he still smiled, the boss spoke with an air of menace.
"Now, see, this isn't very good country out here. Why don't you hand over those supplies to us, and we might let you pass into better country."
Krystal began shrugging her sack off her shoulders, but Halfdan put a hand out and glared.
"No. This isn't yours."
"Halfdan!"
"No! We made these potions, gathered these herbs, and bought the rest. These are for the temples!"
The leader snarled, "You'd better listen to the woman here, boy."
Krystal never knew where Halfdan had gotten the knife, or even where he'd hidden it on his person. But he drew a dagger. The leader and his band drew their weapons in return.
In the blink of an eye, before it could come to blows, Krystal summoned mage light into her hand and jumped up to pull Halfdan's hood down over his eyes. Crushing the mage light in her fist made it burst spectacularly, blinding the armed band surrounding them. Taking advantage of the stunned confusion, Krystal pushed Halfdan through the crowd, off the path, and into the wilderness.
As they crested the hill, Halfdan recovered, taking Krystal's hand and pulling her along as they desperately made their escape. She tried so hard to keep up with the young man, but the terrain was rocky, and she was so much shorter than he.
"They're getting away!"
Krystal yanked her hand out of Halfdan's grasp, giving him a shove when he tried to stop with her.
"Keep going!"
Facing the sound of angry shouts, Krystal summoned a flame atronach. She began to summon an ice atronach as well, only to have her concentration broken by an arrow flying over her head. One would have to do for now. Krystal prayed that it would be enough to slow their attackers. As she ran to catch up with Halfdan, and the screams of the first unfortunate victims followed her, Krystal also prayed for forgiveness.
It was only a few seconds later that she felt the magic of the atronach snuff out.
The acolytes blindly ran through the mountainside. By then, Krystal had forgotten which way the road was. She could only hope that they'd find help, or somewhere to hide soon.
The sound of another arrow flew past her. This time Halfdan went down, dragging her with him.
Krystal picked herself up quickly. But Halfdan lay face down in the dirt, an arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. She cried out.
"Halfdan!"
There was still life within him. She could feel it. Faint, but there. Krystal scrambled to his side. She wasn't strong enough to remove the arrow, but her healing magic was strong enough to bring him back from the brink and hold him there until help could arrive.
"Hold on Halfdan, please!"
"There they are!"
The band of marauders had caught up with them. With one hand still casting healing magic on Halfdan, the other threw a searing wall of fire around them.
"Stay back!" Krystal screamed. "Leave us alone!"
One marauder tried to test the strength of the fire wall. Krystal threw a fireball at their feet, intentionally missing. She threw another one into the air. The spell exploded, dropping molten rain down on everyone outside of Krystal's circle of flame. She hoped and prayed it would scare their attackers into leaving them alone. Her magic was keeping Halfdan alive, but it wouldn't last forever.
Before she could even think of summoning another spell, the leader leapt over the wall of flame and used his momentum to kick Krystal away from Halfdan.
The air was forced from her lungs and stars blinded her vision. Gasping hard for air and bleary-eyed, Krystal rolled onto her stomach. When she could focus, she found Halfdan surrounded by marauders. They laughed as they threw cruel names and kicks into his still body.
Krystal could feel the last of Halfdan's life being brutally forced from his body.
She wanted to cry. She'd failed her friend. But a marauder suddenly grabbed the back of her robes, yanking her up onto her knees and making her scream. Krystal summoned the storm to cover her body, making her assailant howl as they were electrocuted. She tried to take the opportunity to run, but no sooner had she gotten her feet under her than a blow to the back knocked her down again. Krystal landed on her front, and another kick forced her onto her side.
"You bitch," spat the leader dressed in leather armor, his face covered in soot. "You killed six of my men. But don't worry, I know just how you'll make it up to me."
Krystal weakly threw another ball of fire, only for the leader to casually lean out of the way. In return, he brought the heel of his boot down on her right arm with an audible snap. She shrieked, and the leader laughed.
"Wrong answer."
There was so much pain, Krystal thought she would scream, cry, retch, or pass out all at once. Paralyzed with fear and her suffering, she could only watch as the leader raised his elven mace high over his head.
She could only watch as two arrows suddenly pierced his chest and throat.
The mace fell harmlessly behind him as the leader gurgled, stumbled, then fell dead next to Krystal. Everything after that for her was a blur. Several orcs bore down on the marauders, cutting the few that remained with ease.
A great hulking shape obscured her vision, and then, like slipping into sleep, everything went black.
***
Krystal woke to quick, rough jostling. She could hear the jingle of armor and heavy breathing under her left ear. Was she being carried by something, or someone?
Whatever it was, the rough handling reawakened the pain from her chest, her stomach, her head, her arm. The white hot pain made her squeeze her eyes shut before she saw who it was that was carrying her. Krystal grit her teeth, the pained cry alerting the person holding her.
"You're awake," The deep, gravely voice sounded surprised.
"I-It hurts," Krystal sobbed.
"Stay awake," The voice urged. "You must stay awake. What's your name?"
She coughed, "K-Krystal. . ."
"Krystal?" Did she hear a smile in that deep voice? "That's unique. I'm Ghorbash."
The name choked her when she tried to repeat it. Krystal wanted to mind her manners and hold a proper conversation with this stranger, but the pain was so overwhelming. Her breath came out in short gasps now. It seemed so much easier to slip back into the darkness at the edges of her vision.
"Krystal? Hold on, Krystal." Ghorbash held her tighter. "We're nearly there. Stay awake just a moment longer. Come on, where are you from?"
He was taking her somewhere. Krystal wanted to know where, but she was so tired now. She could always find out after she woke up, she supposed.
***
Krystal had woken up with two broken ribs, a broken arm, a split lip, a black eye, and countless bruises. Murbul, an orc wisewoman and her healer, had informed her that she had been brought into the orc stronghold of Dushnikh-Yal. Krystal had been unconscious for two days. Without any family to return home to, she was permitted by Chief Burguk to remain within the stronghold until she recovered.
"And Halfdan?" Krystal had asked. No sooner had she asked the question than tears began to well up in her eyes. She already knew the answer.
Murbul nodded solemnly, "We took care to bury his body not far from here."
The orc who had saved Krystal and rushed her to the stronghold, Ghorbash, visited often. Somewhat awkwardly, he thanked her for leading the marauders off the road. According to him, they had been attacking nearly every traveler on the roads around Dushnikh-Yal. Ghorbash's people were being blamed for the attacks, and word had reached the chief that the Jarl of Markarth planned to march on the stronghold in hopes of securing the road once more. The orc hunting parties had failed to find the marauders hideout or even catch them in the act until Krystal was attacked. Not only did she lead them too close to the stronghold, but the fiery explosion she'd cast into the sky had led Ghorbash and the other warriors right to the bastards that had threatened Dushnikh-Yal.
Krystal accepted the strange compliment. Though she had come out of the ordeal a little worse for wear, she was glad that it at least put an end to countless more deaths on the road. Halfdan hadn't died in vain.
The other orcs showed approval of her as well. Though they preferred armed combat themselves, they were greatly impressed by the power Krystal was able to put behind any spell she cast. She did not heal herself due to her own principles, but Nagrub had convinced her to summon an ice atronach for him to fight. Even though she had only cast the spell with one hand, it had taken Gharol, Ghorbash, and even Burguk lending a hand to take down the Aetherial monster. You would have thought they'd slain a dragon with the celebration that was held after.
"Burguk is the strongest of us all. Any battle fierce enough for our chief to break a sweat is cause for celebration." Ghorbash had explained.
Though it was a bit of an adjustment, the orcs, primarily Ghorbash, willingly adapted to Krystal's strange ways and helped her to understand their own. Ghorbash even went so far as to cook and bring her meatless meals after learning her preference for it. They spoke often, exchanging stories and learning about one another. Krystal was a great and powerful mage, using her gift as a traveling healer. Her great power let her feel the life forces in everything around her, and though she knew it was necessary sometimes, she couldn't stand causing pain or death in others by her own hand. She didn't like to eat meat, had trouble reading, but loved to garden.
In contrast, Ghorbash was a skilled warrior. As soon as he could wield a battle axe, he left the stronghold and joined the Imperial Legion. He'd traveled far across Tamriel with the Legion, earning his name 'The Iron Hand' in battle. During a fight to save his fellow soldiers, he'd been struck and lost the vision in his right eye. Honorably dismissed from service, Ghorbash returned to Dushnikh-Yal to find that his older brother Burguk had already fought and killed their father in battle, earning his title as chief. Burguk had gladly welcomed his brother back, despite the oddity of doing so against tradition. Ghorbash was a skilled archer, fighter, and an honorable man. He now used his skills to hunt for and protect Dushnikh-Yal. He enjoyed a good battle, but, much to Krystal's delight, Ghorbash admitted that he passed the time with wood carving. He found it soothing, and he laughed almost bashfully when he showed his works to Krystal and she showered him with genuine praise.
***
After two weeks of rest, when she'd finally regained enough strength, Krystal wandered the stronghold. She refused to be a burden to the people who'd saved her, so she did what she could to help in spite of her limited mobility. More often than not, she worked with Murbul, sorting herbs and adding her own healing magic to their stock of potions.
"What do you think you're doing?" Ghorbash had asked when he'd found her weeding the stronghold garden with Arob. There was no anger or accusation in his question.
"Ghorbash!" Krystal smiled up at him, dirt streaking her rosey cheeks. "I'm learning so much from Arob. I never thought to start the garden indoors before the last spring frost! I can't wait to try that myself next year."
Arob chuckled, "I've been learning from her as well. Turns out the black birds we've been fighting are good for the crops. They eat the bugs that eat the vegetables. And the saber cat piss we use for hunting can also be used on the crops to keep out larger pests."
Krystal laughed when Ghorbash's nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Saber cat piss?"
"You rinse the vegetables before you use them!" The mage explained. Only Arob caught the soft smile that Krystal's laugh brought out in Ghorbash. When he caught his clan sister staring, Ghorbash cleared his throat.
"Yeah, well, don't tell Nagrub. It's hard enough to get that boy to eat his green food as it is."
***
Nearly a month had passed since Krystal woke up in Dushnikh-Yal. Her bruises were gone, the cut in her lip was only a scar, her ribs had healed, and, while her arm was still broken, she could use the hand if she did so carefully.
She had been sorting plants brought in by Murbul when a commotion at the gate drew their attention.
"Leave outsider!" Arob bellowed. "You won't be told again!"
"Just tell me if my fucking friend was here and I'll go! But I'm not fucking leaving until I get a straight answer!"
Krystal gasped. She dropped the bundle of blue mountain flowers and ran for the gate. Ghorbash was already there, axe drawn, ready to drive away the intruder. He held out an arm, gesturing for her to stay back. Krystal waved him away.
"Let him in!" She pleaded. "Please Arob, I know this man!"
Arob and Ghorbash shared a look. When Ghorbash looked to Krystal, he relented with a sigh.
"Stay where you are, outsider." Arob called down. "We are opening the gate. One wrong move and you will be killed."
The gate and Ghorbash groaned as he hauled it open. As soon as there was enough space for her, Krystal bolted.
"Shok!" She cried, throwing her arms around the orc on the other side of the gate. Even by orc standards, he was tall, with a full white beard, and armor everywhere except his torso.
"Krys!" Shok gasped, wrapping her up in his huge arms. Krystal was already short and stout, but this man dwarfed her almost comedicaly. After a tight squeeze, Shok held Krystal out at arm's length.
"Where have you been?! You were supposed to write to me when you got to the temple in Whiterun! Then you didn't, and no one in Rorikstead had ever seen you, and everyone in Markarth said that people were dying on the roads around here. . . It took me days just to track you that far!" The thick splint on Krystal's right arm and the new scar on her plump lips finally caught Shok's attention. He glared at Ghorbash, still standing with his axe drawn, over Krystal's shoulder.
"Did they do this to you?" He growled. "I swear to Akatosh if they hurt you-"
"Shok!" Krystal cupped her friend's cheek with her good hand. "Shok, I was attacked on the road by humans. They were going to kill me, but these people," She smiled back at Ghorbash. "Ghorbash saved my life. They've been taking care of me."
Shok relaxed at that, but he threw a strange look at Ghorbash that Krystal couldn't decipher.
"Alright. I'm. . . Gods I'm so glad you're safe. Do you have anything to pack? We'll go back to Solitude. You can stay with me until you're ready to go back to Riften."
Krystal caught the flash of sadness that crossed Ghorbash's features. She bit her lip, knowing that Shok wouldn't quite like what she was about to say.
"Actually, I need to stay here, just for a little while longer." She explained. "I want to repay these people for saving me."
Shok looked like he was about to argue, but after another glance between Ghorbash and Krystal, he sighed.
"Thank you," Krystal kissed his cheek. "I'll write to you when I'm in the next town, okay?"
"Fine, just take care of yourself okay? I only have one of you." Shok threw his next words at Ghorbash.
"But if anything happens to her, I'm coming after you, jackass!"
Ghorbash laughed, "Ha! As if I'd give you that chance, old man!"
Shok laughed too, then whispered to Krystal, "I like him. You're keeping him, right?"
***
Another week had passed. Krystal spoke with Chief Burguk in private, seeking a way to repay his people for their help. Burguk spoke of the Forgemaster's Fingers, enchanted gloves that increased the strength and skill of any blacksmith who wore them. They had been stolen from his people many years ago, and he had thought about retrieving the gauntlets since becoming chief. He told Krystal that she had done more than enough for the stronghold and need not go through such trials on their behalf, but Krystal insisted that this was the perfect way for her to repay him.
Word spread. Ghorbash was pissed.
"Are you mad?" He snapped. "You haven't healed yet!"
Krystal was busy packing a knapsack with supplies and so didn't look up when she replied.
"I'll be okay." She said simply.
"Okay? It's far from okay! That place is crawling with Forsworn. If you're hurt, or they capture you. . ."
Krystal shrugged, "I'm small. I think I'll have a good chance if I sneak in at night."
Ghorbash huffed, "Sneak in? You can't just go on that. You don't have your full strength back. A briar-heart's magic would be trouble even for you. Malacath, if they have a hagraven crone guarding the Fingers-"
Krystal interrupted his worried rant by standing up and placing her hands firmly on her wide hips. She was not angry though.
"Then come with me. If you're so worried about me, come help me! Help me bring these back to your people."
They stared at each other for a few heavy seconds. Ghorbash was impressed by the resolve and bravery this small woman bore. With a shake of his head, he crossed the sleeping quarters and pulled a sack out from under his bed.
"Together, then."
***
It took them a full day to retrieve the gauntlets. The two found their rhythm in battle easily. Krystal used magic to fortify his armor, boost his health, and scare his enemies, making the hacking and slashing of the Forsworn a welcome breeze. There was indeed a briar-heart guarding the Fingers, but Krystal nullified his magic while Ghorbash fought fiercely. He ripped the briar from the dead man's chest, gifting it to Krystal as she began to heal the orc's wounds.
If the battle and spending so much time with Krystal hadn't been reward enough for Ghorbash, the shock on his brother's face was well worth everything. Dushnikh-Yal celebrated that night, with Krystal and Ghorbash at the center of it all. Krystal took the opportunity to announce that she would be leaving to return to her duties as an acolyte in the morning. Though everyone in the longhouse hated to see her go, they made certain that her last night with them would be full of too much merriment to soon forget.
Later, after Krystal retired for the evening, Ghorbash found her alone in the sleeping quarters, adding the gifts she'd been given to her knapsack.
"That Shok is going to be happy to hear from you again." Ghorbash said lamely. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but the truth caught in his throat.
Ghorbash found that, not only had he missed the world of battle outside the stronghold, but once Krystal was gone, he'd miss her, too.
"I know, I can't wait to see him again." The healer yawned.
"Yes, well, you have a long journey back. I won't keep you," He turned to rejoin the party still going outside. "Goodnight, Krystal."
Krystal stood, abandoning her knapsack.
"Ghorbash, wait."
The orc paused in the doorway, very carefully masking the hope he felt in his chest. Had she changed her mind, deciding to stay?
"I-I've been thinking. People need me. I'll be going back out on the road to help them when I can." She shyly wrung her fingers. "But what happened to me, what brought me here, might happen again. So I was thinking that I might need a bodyguard, and I was thinking that, if you wanted to, you would be my bodyguard?"
Ghorbash was stunned. This might be even better than what he originally hoped for. He grinned, the action showing off the full length of his tusks.
"I would be honored. I'll have my things ready to go before sunrise."
Krystal smiled too, and Ghorbash thought that her cheeks might have gotten a little rosier.
"Together, then."