Northbound Pilgrimage II

Author's Note:

Dear all,

I hope you are ready for the next big plotline. Technically it's starting right now, though the first three chapters might seem a bit transitiony, the important preamble happens now :) This will be an epic plotline full of adventure. I hope you'll all enjoy it.

Thank you to anyone who's still reading and liking the story. It really means a lot and I can't wait to share more and more with you as we're nearing the end of the second book. Seriously, I can hardly wait to share what happens up until the end, but I have to be patient O:) Meanwhile the third book and some new side stories are making good progress ;)

Enjoy and thank you for reading <3

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Five days.

They have lost five days and they had no idea how or why and what they had been doing during that time.

It was quite a startling realization when they found themselves in some fort near Windhelm. They had no memory of getting anywhere near this place. And it was staggering that they hadn't sobered up the entire time as they traveled all across the province from Rorikstead to Eastmarch.

It was all really confusing. They only found out just how much time they'd lost when they came across a merchant caravan and asked what day it was. It was the ninth of Sun's Dawn already. Last time they remembered, it was the fourth.

The fact that they had lost so much time was very concerning, but they couldn't really do anything about it at this point. All they knew was that they got drunk in Rorikstead and then somehow ended up in this strange fort with a bad hangover. The corpses in that fort were a whole other thing – none of them looked like they had been killed by either of them. None of them actually looked like they had been killed – mostly like they just dropped dead.

Another shocking thing was Bishop's new injury – namely the magical burns on his already wounded arm. His armor was also a little singed, but that was nothing a good leatherwork couldn't fix. And the burns somewhat explained the new grey sling, though it was hardly a convenient one. It looked like a circular shawl or lower half of a tunic. It wasn't very practical or sufficiently long.

But once again, there were no answers for them anywhere.

No wonder Jack thought that the rum was cursed. This was such a strange thing to happen to them. They could get plastered and some of the details of the previous night would slip out, but never to this extent. It was eerie.

And they were left with no options but to move on. At least they were mostly alright and none of their stuff seemed to be missing.

Now they had to come up with some plan. Bishop needed healing, beyond the help of potions, and magical injuries were still not in Aeyrin's power. But fortunately, that fort was somewhat close to Darkwater Crossing. Sondas would be able to handle it, surely. They didn't really feel up to going to Windhelm and to interact with Jora or her Master too much. That was a precarious territory right now. The mining village was the safer option. And the more pleasant one as well. After all, without spending the night at the cornerclub, Windhelm wasn't exactly tempting. And neither of them wanted to drink again. Not now.

Darkwater Crossing was as nice as ever. Sondas was happy to assist them, although he was disappointed that this time they would pay in gold instead of meat. Bishop was in no condition to hunt and Karnwyr wasn't with them to pick up the slack. Technically, Aeyrin could go kill a mammoth. But without her Shouts and Bishop's ranged backup, she didn't really feel confident in doing that in case its giant owners came to help. Coin was enough though. Sondas could purchase meat for the village with it from another hunter.