After losing his faithful companion in a war against the stormcloaks, Grimlok decided to give Lydia a burial fit for a brave warrior like her. The funeral wasn't big though, he didn't have much gold to pay the priest of Arkay and couldn't afford a nice grave so he dug one himself.
He buried her in Whiterun, where he first met her. After fighting his very first dragon and earning his place as thane of Whiterun. The jarl, Balgruuf The Greater, was there along with his housecarl and court mage.
Some people from whiterun also payed their respects but not many.
After the funeral, Grimlock has to think of another follower who's willing to accompany him and.. Carry his burdens.
This only reminded Grimlok how Lydia would sound so bored and sick of carrying the items that slow him down.
"I am sworn to carry your burdens.." She would roll her eyes and sigh heavily.
Grimlok would always reply with, "What?! Am I asking you to cut off your arm?! Talos's beard, woman! These are only dragonbones!"
"Well if you would stop chasing dragons and getting yourself almost killed, none of us would have to deal with heavy-ass dragonbones!" she'd snap.
And they would spend the rest of the day arguing about who's right and who's wrong. But in all reality, it's hard to find able and battle-experienced women in Skyrim. Grimlok DID meet two or three, but they would either snap at him, push his buttons or irritate and challenge him.
Lydia's head might be thick, but she follows orders.
He sighed as he grabs the tankyard from the table. The inn he currently resides is called The Winking Skeever in Solitude.
The bard was singing and playing music as the folk clapped and swayed their tankyards.
The orc sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair, looking so irritated.
"What's the problem, big boy?" The vendor smirked as he wipes the table with a piece of clothing.
"Lost Lydia in a fight against the storm-idiots." Grimlok growled, "Can't find a companion I get along with."
"No one gets along with you." he laughed. The orc just gave him the the 'You-Think-I-Don't-Know-That?' look.
"Oh cheer up, Grimlok. There's always someone willing to raise their blade in your name." He smiled
"That's easy for you to say." Grimlok muttered.
"Hey, let me tell you something." The vendor, Corpulus Vinius said.
"Being so dependent on someone may actually bring you death." He told.
"Does it now?" Grimlok looked at the drink he's chugging down.
"Of course! What makes you think they're not following you to stab you in the back, and rob you hmm?" He asked. "Let me tell you, there was once that mercenary. A strong fellow like you, he came here asking if I knew anyone who's good with spells. So I direct him over to Riften, to the Bee and the Barb tavern."
The orc nodded.
"A few days later the same man comes over with an eyepatch on his eye. And told me that I made him ask a betrayer for help! I ask him what happened and he tells me that he was being led by a friend to an ancient ruin. On the road they face a troll, so they all charged. But when he killed the troll he found his friend AND the mage fighting to death!"
"And." Grimlok blinked at him.
"He tried to stop them and at one point the mage went berserk on them both. Took out his dagger and well.. Let's say that mercenary completely lost his left eye." Corpulus sighed shaking his head.
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Grimlok The Strong
المغامرةIn the harsh terrains of Skyrim, a gloomy orc roamed the lands. He's been everywhere you can think of, in the mysterious caves, in the bandits' forts, in the darkness of blackreach, the dangerous dwemer cities and ancient burial tombs of the dead. H...
