"I never thought I would ever be able to gain the respect my grandfather had before he fled Morrowind." An old dunmer armorer wept as he looked on his newly upgraded workshop, "You have more than earned my loyalty Dragonborn, and the Companions too."
The old dunmer was the grandson of the master armorer of House Hlaalu, but his ancestral skills had been scorned in Skyrim and his grandfather, father, and himself had all made due crafting farming tools and horseshoes while desperately trying to keep their cultural craft alive.
We had chosen to help the man build a proper set up in return for helping me better utilize the dragon bones using dunmer methods. During the week we spent in Windhelm the man and I learnt the secrets of dragon bonemold armor, enabling me to forge sets of truly transcendent equipment. The strength of dragon bone, the coverage of full plate, I may have mixed in two expert alteration robes taken from the Fort Amol Conjurers for Jack and myself as a part of my dastardly plan to become nearly immune to magical damage.
It really was quite dastardly, using a pair of enchanted rings and amulets we'd picked up over our travels, several skill books, and Jar-Shak's apprentice level study of the subject we would quickly delve into the Alteration branch of magic with the intention of maximizing our skill in the subject as fast as possible to connect with the Magic Resistance and Atronach Stars.
It was admittedly slow going as keeping stoneflesh up during spars was all our magicka could take, but it was coming along. We'd be journeymen by the time we reach High Hrothgar and would get their even quicker as we intended to go through Kynesgrove on the way south and get some tutelage from Dravynea the Stoneweaver.
Our last night in Windhelm saw the dockside argonians hold a feast for us, not in return for the one we held for them with our dragon meat, but to celebrate the fact that I'd successfully impregnated all the unmarried argonian women in the area.
The people of this world really know how to creep me out.
I kept expecting some kind of Red Wedding turnaround for defiling everyone's sisters and daughters, but just like in Whiterun they kept piling on the praise and gifts. At least with the human women I wasn't leaving them full of bastard children, but that just seemed to make everyone here even happier.
Strong seed, they kept saying.
The cult vibes made me more than happy to hit the road again.
Two days out from Windhelm we approached the small mining town of Kynesgrove, this place built around the mining of malachite, a much more valuable and rare substance than the corundum ore of Darkwater Crossing. All was going well until the dragon nation attacked. Alduin flew over with a pair of his bronze skinned home bois and they began their reign of fire on the town while the big black bastard went on to rez his pal, Sahloknir.
Leaving the sled behind we ran the final stretch between us and town.
"Jack and I will take one!" I shouted over the medley of screams and the roar of the fires, "All of you take the other!"
Jack flung a warp sphere at one of the Elder Dragons and I started sending arrows down range wishing I had one of my old machine guns. We weren't heroes, we weren't here battling these things because saving the people of Kynesgrove meant something to us, but the sounds of them roasting alive as everything they knew burned down around them did serve as motivation to not hold back.
The Elder Dragon was tougher, more mobile, and harder hitting than any we'd faced prior. It took three shots for me to connect and even then it was a grazing shot. The beast was aware and agile, and knew he could tank Jack's biotic attacks. After the second warp sphere landed without significant damage, Jack joined me in shooting as the beast played keep away and unleashed streams of raging fire on the people of the town.
Eventually the pressure was too much and a shaft hit him where the shoulder meets the chest, causing him to lose that slick evasiveness and take two more shafts before plowing into a burning home.
We launched more javelins into the wreckage and the dragon burst from the side of the building before clawing at the earth like an enraged Tigrex. The bastard actually used his horns to deflect a pair of javelins before Jack and I were forced to engage him in melee combat.
Jack timed a biotic charge to land just as I plowed into the big bastard with my shield raised and the collision put all three of us on our asses. I got up first and swung a hammer blow to his head and the Elder Dragon threw an overhand wing strike and comboed it into a swift tail strike that launched me into the wreckage of someone's home, a home that was promptly set even more on fire. Jack hit him with another charge as he tried to roast me, knocking much of the stream off target and into more flammable wood houses.
During the fight the dragon had broken off the shafts in the sides of his chest, but I noticed one thick shaft still sticking out of his chest a good bit. Rushing back into the fray I ducked under his claw swipe tail strike combo leaving me right where I wanted to be. With a roar I hammered down the nail that stuck out.
The wet quality of its ragged breathing clued me in on the pictured lunge, reducing the beast's shouting capacity and making it harder to recover it's spent energy on its attacks. We spent a few minutes evading and punishing the increasingly slow attacks of the Elder Dragon before I buried my axe blade in its neck just behind the skull, killing it instantly.
Jack and I breathed heavy, truly pushed for the first time since coming to this world. Bethesda definitely didn't animate this guy.
We didn't get a chance to catch our breath as the rest of the Companions had yet to slay their dragon. Drawing our bows, we got the drop on the beast and put a pair of javelins in its neck. We waited out its death throws and Vilkas rammed his sword through its eye for good measure. The beast lit up and Brienne had devoured another soul, but following the trail of light led to the girl kneeling over the scorched form of Ria, the newest member of the Companions before we joined.
"Get up girl!" I shouted as I lifted her with one hand, "You have to drain the other one before Alduin brings him back!"
"But, Ria!" she cried.
"Now!" I bellowed, "She will still be dead when you get back!"
I put the struggling girl over my shoulder and walked her back to our kill. I would have felt glad to permanently slay the beast if not for the arrival of the black destroyer himself and a bright orange dragon with a wide ridged neck and tail that landed to our side.
I placed the struggling Dragonborn down and got my shield ready to defend her from the bigger threat, but Sahloknir posed a huge threat as well even if his birdlike beak and bulging frog eyes made him look dopey. Revered Dragons were not to be tangled with lightly.
Alduin spoke to Brienne in the language of the Dov before realizing that she did not understand him.
"You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah. Sahloknir, krii daar joorre." With that said Alduin took off into the night, leaving us to his minion to slay.
"I am Sahloknir! Hear my Voice and despair!" the dragon spoke before launching a Drain Vitality Shout that I leapt with all my strength to get us out of the way of. The shout tried to correct course, but my dodge was timed too well and thus we just barely managed to evade the lethal shout.
It took everything I had to keep us away from the Revered Dragon's calamitous Thu'um. The Elder Dragons dealt massive damage to the town, and Sahloknir seemed able to match their output combined. His torrents of flames reduced homes to ashes as he pursued us and it didn't stop until a javelin bounced off his head and another stuck into his chest far shallower than ever previously seen. The rest of the Companions began to kite the dragon with their bows, the big beast far slower to rotate than the Elder Dragons but just as fast in a straight line with all his added mass turning him into a wrecking ball destroying all in his path.
We were slowly wearing him down when Torvar tripped over a beam hidden in some ash. Time seemed to slow down as Sahloknir barreled down on the Companion and snatched him up in his jaws even as more arrows riddled his form. The slovenly nord pulled a knife off his chest plate with his unpinned arm and rammed the blade in the dragon's eye before the maw slammed shut and Torvar fell to pieces, part falling to the burning ground, the rest falling down the dragon's throat.
Farkas and Vilkas broke away from the plan and rushed the Revered Dragon, evading his clumsy wing strike and ramming their blades into his chest to the hilts, taking the beast down with their ferocity.
"So this is my end, eh Dovahkiin." the beast gasped, "My voice has been silent for so long…"
Many of the Companions collapsed in exhaustion, covered in burns, and grateful to have survived. Looking out over the destruction, I knew that this time we wouldn't be celebrating our victory.