After some quick introductions with the rest of the members of the merchant caravan, Septimus stored his bag and went to help with the loading.
‘I wonder what’s inside these crates; with several carriages of goods, these guys must be making bank’
With the last carriage loaded and secured, and the horses harnessed, they departed Chorrol, following the road northeast.
The first few hours of the journey were very interesting for Septimus; he had never done anything like this before.
Having to walk next to slowly rolling carriages while paying attention to his surroundings and making conversation with his fellows was a very unique experience.
‘Is this why people do medieval larping?
It’s pretty cool, only I’m not larping, am I?
It’s just my life now.’
A few hours of travel later, they finally took a short break to let the horses rest.
Septimus didn’t feel too tired; the pace was quite relaxed and he wasn’t dragging around his heavy bags anymore.
Seeing that the men had joined up into groups, Septimus looked around and spotted Alotius with his orc bodyguard looking over what looked like a map.
“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering where the caravan is headed”.
Septimus asked, walking up to them.
Alotius looked at him while the orc just scoffed.
“It’s a bit late to ask that, my friend.
You didn’t even know where we were headed and just decided to join up; how brave”.
Alotius said.
“Or foolish.” The bodyguard chimed in.
“Well, yes, it’s both.
I heard Skyrim and decided that was enough; as long as I get there, it doesn’t matter the path we take to enter.”
“I see, well, look here ill show you.” Alotius scooted closer to Septimus and showed him his map; it seemed to be hand-drawn on yellowed paper.
“This is where we started.” He pointed at the icon of a tower towards the middle of the map.
“And our final destination is here, Markarth”.
He then pointed to another tower icon almost directly above where they currently are.
“Markarth, I see.
I’ve heard of it, dwemer ruins, right?” Septimus asked.
“Yes, it’s a very interesting city from what I know, although I have never been there myself!” Alotius moved his hand and tapped over a gate icon drawn over the mountain range depicted on the map.
“To enter Skyrim, we have to go through here, the Pale Pass.
From there, it’s almost a straight line to Markarth; we won’t be stopping on the way”
Septimus looked surprised.
“You won’t be stopping at all?.
Looking at the map, the roads take us right past Bruma and Falkreath and a bunch of smaller settlements.”
Alotius shook his head.
“No, it’s not worth our time.
On the map it may look close, but that’s just because the icons used are quite large; take Falkreath, for example.
Once we get through the pass, it would be at least a full day’s delay.” He said, tapping the map.
“I see, then how accurate is this map then?
I heard there’s Forsworn raids taking place around Markarth.” Septimus then pointed at the line leading from the pass to Markarth, fairly straight but surrounded by icons of mountains and rivers.
“Forsworn raids?
I didn’t hear anything about that.” Alotius looked at his bodyguard.
“It is not even worth mentioning; a bunch of mountain savages living in caves and attacking small groups; they won’t even bother us!”
‘That’s orcish confidence for you, and he said I’m the foolish one.
Didn’t the forsworn attack Markarth at some point?
They lost, and their leaders got imprisoned, but they are still very strong in and around Markarth.’
Alotius shrugged.
“That’s what he says, and I defer to his decisions when it comes to fighting, so there you go, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But, are you really sure?
They have mages, well, witches in their ranks, and they still practice human sacrifices!” Septimus was trying to warn them, not for any noble cause but because they were kind enough to take him along, so a warning is the least he can do.
*Scoff*.
“Mages, don’t be ridiculous, like some savages shooting snow at me are going to do anything!” The orc seemed almost personally offended at the mention of mages.
Alotius placed a hand on the orc’s shoulder.
“Calm down, relax, let’s hear him out at least.” He then looked at Septimus.
“Are you saying that these forsworn are more dangerous than we think?
How certain are you, Septimus?”
“Very, the forsworn have a certain reputation, and while I know nothing of magic, I know that the witches that lead them can shoot out exploding fireballs.
If you send someone to ask around some veterans from that area, if there are any, they would agree with me!
As far as i know…”
As Septimus was about to continue, one of the men walked up to Alotius, interrupting their conversation.
“Boss, we’re ready to go, just give the word”.
Alotius nodded.
“Good, don’t delay then; we won’t stop again until nightfall.”
The man nodded and jogged over to the waiting group of men, telling them it was time to depart.
They quickly got into positions, and the carriages started rolling again.
“Follow me, Septimus.
Let’s continue our conversation; tell me all that you know about these forsworn.
I’ll admit you made me curious about them!”
Septimus agreed and followed Alotius to his carriage, climbing up next to him.
“I will tell you all I know; it’s not much, only what I gathered from some veterans some time ago.” Septimus took a chug of his waterskin to moisten his throat.
“So, they are a group formed mainly of Bretons….”
====================
“…And that’s everything that I know about them”
After listening to Septimus’s story, Alotius looked somewhat worried.
“I see, if even half of what you told me turns out to be true, the journey might turn even more troublesome than i expected.”
“I have no reason to lie to you, Alotius.
As you say, take my words with a grain of salt but stay wary!”
Alotius nodded.
“I will do as you say.
‘This guy doesn’t want to tell them now because he’s afraid they’d quit’
“That’s smart, let’s go with that!” Septimus gave him a knowing smirk.
Alotius caught it instantly.
“HA!
We think alike, you and I, friend.
Now tell me, do you have any other stories to pass the time?”
Septimus stopped to think for a moment.
“SO this is not a story, but are you familiar with magic?”
“Hmm, not much.
I have almost no talent you see; I can’t wield neither blade nor spell, so I ended up a merchant.” Alotius let out a sigh.
“You should try a bow then!” Septimus joked.
“I’m asking because I’ve always been curious.
I never learned how to use any magic; could you maybe give me a quick lesson on the basics?”
“Hmm, well, I could tell you a bit.
It’s not going to be much of a lesson; I can’t use it either, so it’s second-hand knowledge, dodgy at best.”
“That’s more than enough for me; I’m not aiming to become an archmage, I’m just curious.”
Alotius looked up at the sky, thinking for a moment.
“Ok, you do know the schools of magic at least, correct?”
“I do.
They are destruction, restoration, conjuration, illusion, and alteration, right?”
“Yes, those are the main ones; enchantment and alchemy are secondary.
You can only reach a high level in them if you are a talented enough mage.” Alotius continued.
“And that is the main problem: talent.
While someone able to wield magicka can cast spells from all schools, people have natural affinities”
“Is talent really that important?” Septimus asked suspiciously.
“I mean, if someone is talented enough to wield magicka, does talent in a specific school matter?
“More than you can imagine, Septimus, talent is the difference between exhausting yourself by casting one adept spell and casting 10 of them and still being able to run around!” Alotius gestured intensely.
“At least that’s what I’ve been told…”
‘So is that like having access to more of the talent tree in Skyrim or something, the basic casting perks but turned up to eleven?’
After calming down, Aletios continued.
“There’s also a difference in talent between races, but you probably know that, like how nords are better at frost magic, or dunmer at fire!”
“Yes, I have heard of those, different racial talents”.
Septimus agreed.
“Racial talents, huh, great name!
Well, I don’t know much more beyond this.
My old teacher tried to teach me how to sense magicka, and I failed, so that’s as far as I got.”
Septimus gave him a toothy smile.
“Well, about that, how would one go about feeling their own magicka?”