Jurgeld Stonehammer (Skyrim fanfic)

Only avid players of Skyrim might appreciate this tongue-in-cheek approach to fanfiction.

    Jurgeld Stonehammer strode confidently out the doors of Dragonsreach. He had just accepted his first mercenary contract. The Jarl wanted a giant that had been terrorizing the locals dead, and Jurgeld was just the brave Nord for the job. He paused to admire the view, as he didn't get to the cloud district very often. He could see the whole town from here. As he descended the stairs he took a moment to look at his reflection in the pools beside the steps. He was no longer a child, but he didn't think he looked particularly tough, and he thought adventurers were supposed to look tough. He was a man now, and despite his father's objections, he was making his own way in life.
    Jurgeld had grown up in Rorikstead, and was raised as a farmer, like his father. He didn't much like farming, though, and it seemed there was always a nip in the air, and that was never good for the crops. No, Jurgeld wanted adventure and glory, like a true Nord warrior. He had displayed an aptitude for magic, and was going to join the college in Winterhold, but after everyone blamed the mages for the great collapse they'd all tell him to go cast his fancy magic somewhere else. He thought about becoming a town gaurd, but he didn't want to deal with all the petty thievery and drunken brawls, so he decided against it. Then someone told him he should try mercenery work, as it might suit him. That was an idea Jurgeld could get excited about, so he joined the Companions. He'd recently quit, however, because all they let him do was fetch the meade. So he'd struck out on his own to do freelance work, and it was going to be great, he just knew it.
    Setting out for such an adventure without supplies would be foolhardy, so Jurgeld visited the Whiterun marketplace. He approached a nice looking lady with a stall of wares.
    "Hi, what kind of things do you sell?" He asked.
    "Everything I've got on display, really." She replied.
    "Do you have anything of higher quality?" He inquired.
    "Some may call this junk, me I call them treasures." She said with a smile.
    Jurgeld looked at the things she had laid out for sale. None of them seemed to be all that good, but it hardly mattered as he didn't have much gold to spend yet anyway. He browsed the selections of iron armors, hide shields, and steel swords. Then he saw some swords that were labeled 'From Hammerfell'. They were curiously curved. Curved swords. Strange.
    There were some potions, and he thought it would be a good idea to get a health potion. After handing over the last of his Septims for the potion, Jurgen figured his trusty hunter's bow and iron sword were all he'd need for this job anyway. He bid the merchant a good day, and she told him "good hunting", and off he went, ready for adventure.
    Jurgeld left Whiterun and set directly off to Sleeping Tree Camp, where the giant he was hired to kill was reportedly staying. As he got onto the road he heard a group of passersby talking again about this 'dragonborn' person. He'd heard a lot of stories about it recently. Everybody seemed to be talking about this dragonborn, and how they were supposed to save everyone from the dragons returning to Skyrim. They always spoke as if it could be anyone. Then Jurgeld thought, "Maybe I'm the dragonborn, and I just don't know it yet." He figured thoughts like that wouldn't help him on this job, so he pushed them from his mind and resolved to concentrate on taking down this giant.
    Travelling along the road took some time, and eventually Jurgeld found himself getting hungry. Reaching into his satchel for some food he stopped short. Where was it? It was there earlier today, he knew it. He emptied all of his belongings onto the ground to more effectively search through them, but the object he was looking for wasn't there.
    "Damn!" He shouted to himself. "Some fetcher stole my sweetroll!"
    Angrily he collected his things, cursing that skeever-hole of a town and it's lazy gaurds. Just as he placed his belongings back in his satchel, he heard a familiar growling noise from behind himself. Spinning around, Jurgeld had just enough time to see the saber cat leap from it's hiding place to land on top of him. Savagely it began scratching and biting him. Jurgeld howled in pain and pulled his sword from it's leather sheath on his hip. Again and again he slashed at the roaring beast, as again and again it slashed at him. For several moments Jurgeld thought he was done for, but finally he grabbed the saber cat by the scruff of its neck and plunged the sword through it's head.
    Panting and barely alive, Jurgeld fell back onto the ground. He looked at the blood pouring out of his wounds. He was a goner, he was sure of it.
    "How could I have been so stupid," he said aloud. "I've been hunting and fishing in these parts for years. I should have known better."
    Staring up at the sky and listening to his heart pound loudly, Jurgeld prepared himself for the inevitable trip to Sovngarde. He began to close his eyes and sleep forever.
    Suddenly, it came back to him. He had bought a health potion before leaving Whiterun! He would live! His bloody hands scrambled to open his satchel and retrieve the potion. There was so much blood on his fingers that he had trouble opening it, but once he did he gulped the holistic liquid down. Instantly he felt better. He stood, dusted himself off, and turned to see the corpse of the saber cat lying next to him. He reached down and pulled the saber cat's pelt off of it with his bare hands. He looked down after putting the pelt in his satchel only to see that it still had fur for some reason. Shrugging, he decided not to question it and continued on to Sleeping Tree Camp.
    Upon reaching his destination, Jurgeld felt sneaking up on his quarry would be the best strategy, so he crouched slightly and drew his bow. He saw the giant standing out in the open next to a curiously glowing tree. He knew it was the right giant, because it had a large, white arrow pointing straight down at it's head. As he stalked closer, he saw a dark elf hiding behind a stump on the outskirts of the camp. Still crouching slighlty, he snuck up to the elf and realized it was Arvyn Velas, a guy he'd helped by collecting 20 bits of tundra cotton for him. Arvyn turned to see Jurgeld approaching.
    "Good to see you! Finally, someone useful is around." Arvyn greeted him with a smile.
    "Hello, Arvyn. Here to collect the bounty? Perhaps we could work together."
    Arvyn nodded.
    "Well, you favor the bow while I'm a sword man myself, so why don't you shoot from here while I sneak up and run him through with my sword?" Arvyn seemed to think that was a good idea, so they prepared to put their plan in action.
    "Remember Arvyn, don't blow my cover until I stab him."
    "Devines smile on you, friend."
    Remaining slightly crouched, Jurgeld moved out from the cover of the stump. He held his breath as he moved as silently as he could. They really needed the element of surprise here, or it would be much more difficult. Closer and closer he crept to the giant, hoping it would not turn around and see him coming. Just before he got there, he heard Arvyn yell out, "I've fought mudcrabs fiercer than you!" and saw an arrow fly past his head as the giant turned around to face him.
    "Damn it Arvyn!" He shouted just before leaping out of the way of the giant's colossal club as it smashed down on the ground where he'd been standing.
    Jurgeld began wildly waving his sword back and forth, slashing at the giant's midsection before leaping back to be narrowly missed by the club. Again and again he did this as Arvyn continued shooting arrows into the giant's body. It was working! They were going to kill the giant! Jurgeld got so excited he heard himself shout "Victory or Sovngarde!" as Arvyn yelled "Never should have come here!" Finally, the giant slumped to one knee from his injuries and Jurgeld raised his sword to deliver the final blow.
    Just as his sword slashed through the giant's throat, he felt a stray arrow pierce his knee. His body crashed into the dirt.
    "No! How could this happen? Arvyn, help me, please!"
    As Jurgen writhed in pain looking up at the setting sun, Arvyn cradled his head to comfort his friend. Jurgeld's career as an adventurer was over. Everyone in Skyrim knew that no potion had ever been so good it could deal with the trauma of an arrow to the knee. No healing spell could reconcile that wound. Jurgeld would have to become a town gaurd, and that was that. What else was there? He looked into Arvyn's face as tears began to flow from his eyes.
    "I'm cold, Arvyn."
    "I'd be a lot happier and a lot warmer with a belly full of mead." Came the response.
    "Me too, Arvyn, Me too."

The End.