The first place I took my crew was to the stables, outside Whiterun.
"If you don't wish to fight the dragon, I and I think anyone else, will not hold it against you." I say, looking down at them from my new horse, Myrmidon, that I had just bought for 1000 Septims.
"No. I'm going with you. I don't know about them, but I am." Jenassa's answer was firm. Uthgerd, Faendal, and Hadvar were left now.
"Jenassa, you don't have a horse. Get on mine. We need to leave soon."
Although, I was at best apprehensive about having her on my horse, whoever's going needs to decide quickly.
"A dragon? Don't you even think there's a chance that you're getting more suicidal the longer you live? I'm sorry, friend, but you helped me put my life together. I can't fight a dragon when when my relationships are finally going as well as they are. You'll always have a friend in me, but I can't do this."
Faendal was resolute, but his life was his own. I couldn't deny him what little I had given him myself.
"Understandable. I'll see you again, hopefully alive. But if not, then I'll see you at my funeral."
Faendal grimaces, nodding before heading off. He heads back in the direction of Riverwood.
"I will go with you." Uthgerd said, softly.
"Buy yourself a horse, if you need."
Uthgerd nods, before disappearing for a second and coming back on a horse. It's not been very long, but I can see that she's clearly as bad of a rider as me.
"Urrgghhh... Fine, yes, I'm terrible with horses! It's just that I'm afraid of them!" I hear. I smirk a little, then remember our current relationship to which my smirk disappears, and speak.
"Probably for good reason." I say.
"I don't mean to rush, but do decide quickly, Hadvar. A dragon is about to attack." I push for an answer.
"I'll go with you. But I'm heading to Solitude not long after." Hadvar clearly didn't like the idea of fighting a dragon.
"Right, well, sit in front of Uthgerd, then, because I know you're good at riding horses. And now we're out of time. C'mon." I reach out my hand to help Jenassa, and swing her up onto the horse. Hadvar gets on Uthgerd's horse, then helps Uthgerd onto it as well.
I tap the horses sides and pull the horses' head to the right. The horse starts trotting. Uthgerd isn't that far behind me.
"Hold on." I tell Jenassa. She tightens her grip around my waist, as I dig my heels into the horses side. She tightens her grip around my waist, practically squeezing my ribcage, but I don't care. What's the point of caring when she'd already broken my trust?
"Yah!" I cry, double-tapping my heels into Myrmidon's sides. Myrmidon speeds up and I duck the front part of my body, like I've seen in movies. We travel at the same place for a few minutes, until we see a group of roughly twenty to thirty guardsmen behind a few massive boulders several hundred feet away from the Western Watchtower. I stop Myrmidon in front of them, and tie him to a knobby point sticking off of one of the boulders. I don't want Myrmidon to die fighting against the dragon, Mirmulnir.
Horses in the game tend to be aggressive towards enemies that attack the player, so they fight the enemies. However, more often than not, the player's enemies are trolls, vampires, wolves, bandits, bears, hagravens, various types of hostile mages, atronachs, sabre cats, ice wraiths, wisps and wispmothers, spriggans, giants and their mammoths, and dragons. Almost all of those are much stronger than a horse. Consequently, the horse dies. A lot. As you may notice, a lot of those types of enemies I haven't fought yet. I'll explain what those are when the time comes. Thankfully, that time isn't now.
The guards are equipped differently than I remembered the way guards were equipped in Skyrim. These guys' and gals' armor and weapons were different depending on their body shape and size. Something all the guardsmen had in common though, was the fact that they all had a yellow tabard wrapped around their shoulders to their waists over their armor. It looked like it was meant to be worn over the armor in the winter, or in times of war.
The larger guardsmen and guardswomen wore heavy steel cuirasses with large, pointed pauldrons, and steel helms that obscured their faces entirely. They carried on them large halberds and a set of two small steel daggers, alongside either a steel warhammer, greatsword, or battleaxe. The smallest of the largest ones carried a steel sword and a steel kite shield that had the symbol of Whiterun, the Stallion, engraved onto it.
The smaller, narrower-bodied ones wore light hauberks with boiled leather armor above it. They also wore either a lighter, smaller steel helmet revealed their jawbones or no helmet at all. They carried spears, and a longbow with steel arrows. They all had their own circular reinforced oak shields with the Stallion painted on them. They also wore either steel war axes, maces, or swords upon their waists.
"Here's the situation. A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower." Irileth briefs the guardsmen and women.
"A dragon?" A guard exclaims.
"Now we're in for it." Another guard agrees.
Irileth continues. "You heard right! I said a dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know is that it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"
"But Housecarl... how can we fight a dragon?" A guard asks.
"That's a fair question." Irileth starts making a speech. "None of us have ever seen a dragon before, or expected to see one in battle. But we are honorbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes... our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?"
She draws her sword.
The guards respond neutrally, with resounding cries of "No, Housecarl!" and "We're so dead..."
Irileth continues with her speech.
"But it's more than our honor at stake here. Think of it - the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?"
The guards positively respond.
"Let's move out." Irileth orders.
"Wait!" I said. "I've got a plan to attack the dragon!"
"Well... The Jarl did say you're the one with the most experience concerning dragons. What've you got?"
"Alright, dragons are smart enough to speak, right? I know the legends tell of Olaf One-Eye making deals with the dragon Numinex, so they must be. If they're smart enough to speak, they're smart enough to think. This dragon has already attacked once. I'm willing to bet it thinks there are survivors, too. If there are survivors, then it will attack once we show up. That way, it gets more victims, so what we need is a plan of attack."
"You're saying the dragon will attack us when we get there?" A guard asks.
Irileth's face changes a little bit, towards understanding.
I thought of one specific plan a lot when I was fighting dragons in Skyrim, when it was a game. Being able to effectively use tactics like the ones I imagined up in Skyrim was not something the developers really wanted, per say. Now did it help the actual combat in-game. It's not fair for someone who think about the way they attack to use it to their advantage.
The plan I had in mind was especially cruel, cutthroat, and very, very effective, especially against large creatures like dragons.
I discuss the plan I had conjured up to them, and we prepare to face the dragon. We practice some parts a couple times, too, just in case.
Then, leaving the horses and backpacks at the boulders, we approach the Watchtower. As we approach, I hear Irileth say a bunch of things, then a guard said a bunch of things. I dunno what they were and mildly don't care.
Just as I pointed out, the dragon quickly showed up once people were here, again.
It circled the tower once and landed.
Mirmulnir was a beautiful dragon. He had golden scales, and a crimson maw that gleamed in the late morning light. The claw tips on his wings were a deep black that showed the dirt from his landings. His recurved horns spoke brightly of his heritage as a dragon.
"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" He spoke. All Shouts were based on the Draconic language, and thus, a Shout coming from a dragon would be much more powerful than a Shout from a Dragonborn. The information that I got from the Word Wall in Bleak Falls Barrow was enough to translate it to English, 'My overlord will devour your souls in Sovngarde!'
A terrifying statement, but not terrifying when you can be combatted easily with the right tactics. Like the ones I came up with.
Then, Mirmulnir exhales a cone of fire and sprays it from his right to his left. Like I had suggested, the guards got into a rough shield wall and advanced. The heavier-armored guardsmen used their hulking frames and the shields of the smaller guardsmen to block the flames of Mirmulnir's breath. While they formed up, they held their halberds over the shield wall, and advanced forward, until they surrounded it.
'Thank God they can remember their orders while in combat.' I was scared they might forget the plan upon seeing the dragon. They run around the dragon and used their swords, and made sure to poke holes in and slice the dragons' wings open. When we did this, we removed it's ability to fly away.
A grounded dragon is a dead dragon, as the saying goes.¹
Despite this fact, Mirmulnir attempts to fly away upon realizing that we were cutting off his escape. After grounding him and ensuring he couldn't fly, our next objective was to stop it from speaking.
Ropes were thrown around it's mouth, and whenever it snapped close to someone, it was stabbed with the halberds. We tie up it's wings, so it couldn't claw at anyone, too. With it's mouth wrapped and wings bored through, it now has no means of attack besides his tail, but that was quickly solved by tying its legs together, and staking his tail to the ground. With that done, ropes are thrown over it, and it's staked to the ground, ensuring that it couldn't escape even it got the strength to try.
As the ropes get thrown over him, scales inevitably get ripped out, falling to the ground. After that, it was an easy kill. I'll be honest, I saw the fear in it's eyes when I was setting it up to die like this.
"You... You are brave. Bahlaan Hokoron, (worthy enemies). Your victory brings me no honor." It speaks through the bindings. It struggles to get out of the ropes more, but can't break loose. How pathetic. *This* is the creature that enslaved man? Disgusting.
Irileth offers me the last hit. It was a perfect victory, after all, using my tactic. I head close to the dragon's head, before sending the guards far enough away that they can't hear what I'm going to say.
I speak to Mirmulnir, saying, "You know, one of the things that's always bothered me about your kind, is that you're not dragons. Dragonkin, definitely. However, you only have two legs, and while you do have wings and breathe fire, you're not a dragon, but a wyvern. Everytime I've mentioned that fact to someone, I keep getting told that in this world and culture, there are no four-legged dragons, so by this world's standards you are a dragon, so I want to know. Are there any four-legged dragons in this world?"
Mirmulnir's head lifts up a little bit. The dragon's eyebrows look almost like they're raised.
"What. Are you. Talking about. Joor (Mortal)? Your Gol (earth/world)? No... You... Tinvaak Se Fin Ra Saraan Vahzah Bah, (speak of the god's first true wrath), the... Hmmm... Vomindok Rot (incomprehensible/hard word), Los Vahrukt Motmahus (Memory Is slippery/hard to keep track of/going away)... Dii Dalk Vodahmin. (My memory is gone, direct translation is 'Mine Memory Forgotten')."
I sigh. My new knowledge of the Thu'um allowed me to just barely keep up with what it was saying. Mirmulnir clearly no longer remembers what he definitely just did, which is weird. Almost like its memory was removed, or it was stopped before it could continue. I have no more use for it. Even if it were to submit me to me now, there'd be no point. For me to act as a dragon rider when I can barely ride a horse is like trying to go from crawling as a baby to skydiving. Literally. Besides, the dragon wouldn't ever feel like it would be fully respected due to the dragons' pride (especially its'), and I would rather have the dragon in board with me riding it than just forcing it to let me, although forcing them would be easier. I was taught the importance of consent overnight, after all. I wouldn't force anyone to do anything unless it absolutely came down it. I sigh again. No point in letting the dragon live.
We need a scapegoat for the slaughter that happened here earlier, anyways. There needs to be a show of something being done to ensure the public's safety here. Mirmulnir will just be it. I walk forward and go to where it's ears should be. It's a giant lizard, so it's pretty hard to tell.
"Zu'u Dovahkiin, Mirmulnir, (I am Dragonborn, Mirmulnir)." I whisper.
Mirmulnir proceeds to struggle even harder now, as it cries out, "Dovahkiin?! NOOO!!"
I jump and swing onto it's head, using it's horns as a pivoting point, and take my swords out. I stab into it's throat once, twice, three times. It's scales are extremely hard, harder than steel, so I shove my sword in the gaps between them. It swings it's head up one more time, snapping all it's bindings, around it's mouth, on his wings, in a final show of it's strength. The ropes on it's wings snaps off as Mirmulnir stretches them out one final time. The knotted mess around his mouth snap as he opens his jaws wide open.
As Mirmulnir raises its head, I start running up and off of its head, and leap off. It snaps towards me once, and catches my foot, but I regain my balance mid-fall. I land into a roll, much cooler, cleaner, and better than the one I did at Helgen. As red blood sprays out over the ground from Mirmulnir's neck, the light from Mirmulnir's eyes vanishes, as it's bronze head falls to the ground, and all four of it's eyelids shut for the last time.
It has been killed for the last time. The creature once known as Mirmulnir no longer exists. Nor will it, ever again. In this world, when dragons say their immortal, they are. That is, until I come along.
Mirmulnir's flesh burns into ash, as it's soul leaves it's body in a plume of ethereal whitish-bluish-red... smoke? It's like the Northern Lights, but different. A multitude of colors in the soul light up the area around me. Soon, as the glowing dragon embers fade to dust, Mirmulnir's soul flows into my body. I feel his soul combine with the first word of the shout Unrelenting Force, Fus. It forms into more than a Word, more like... A Command of nature. I understand how it works, too.
When I shout Fus now, the Magicka in the air will react in the same manner a dragons' fire breath will: a cone shape will erupt from my mouth, and anything caught within the space inside the cone will stumble backwards. Currently, my Thu'um is only strong enough to make someone stumble back about a foot, at most.
Meanwhile, guards are talking about me, saying that I'm the Dragonborn or must be, and I ignore them. Then, a guard grabs my shoulder.
"If you really are Dragonborn, like the old tales, you aught to be able to Shout. Can you? Have you tried?"
"Let's find out..." I say. He backs up, a little scared.
I take a deep breath, and lock my stance. I look up to the skies and Shout. "FUS!" A wave of air is forced out of the way and dust flies higher.
But then, I hear, "Doh! Vah! Kiin!" Come from the mountain, the Throat of the World.
"Did- did you hear that?" A guard asks.
"That was Shouting, what you just did! Must be. You really are Dragonborn, then..." A guard exclaims.
"The Greybeards up on their mountain." A guard continues with their surprise, then chuckles. He looks to me and says, "Have fun climbing, Dragonborn."
Irileth looks for me, and she asks,"You heard that, right? The Greybeards have come calling. They don't do that... ever."
"I think it's time I visit the Jarl again." I answered her.
"Agreed." Irileth says, then disappears.
I search the skeleton of the dragon, and right about where the stomach would be, was a set of a Whiterun guards' armor, a steel sword, and a Whiterun Guards' shield, all perfectly clean, as if the body of the dragon burning up was able to remove the stomach acids. I don't think the armor was long enough there to even be affected much by the acids, to begin with, besides removing some rust.
I gather the armor up and take them to my horse. I ride back to the dragon's skeleton and remains, and create a sled out of Mirmulnir's ribcage. Using the ribcage as a sled, I carry the bones and the ripped-off scales of the dragon back to Whiterun, using Myrmidon to drag it. Myrmidon's strong enough that he can do it, not only because he's a warhorse, but because the Shire is strong in this one, (The breed of horse he is, is a Shire). I'm riding Myrmidon, with Jenassa in the saddle behind me, and Hadvar riding Uthgerd's horse, with Uthgerd behind him.
"I'll be honest, what you did does not sit right with me. It feels almost like... we tortured the dragon." Uthgerd says, as we're riding back.
Hadvar agrees with her. "I would've preferred to just fight it as usual."
Jenassa disagrees with Uthgerd and Hadvar. "No. We only slayed it the most efficient and effective way we could."
I start, with an ice cold anger.
"Didn't sit right with you?! What you did last night 'didn't sit right with me!' But, no! Putting aside that, let me give you a history lesson."
Hadvar's face changes to one of clear awkwardness. He can totally tell that something between me and the girls happened last night, and that it wasn't pleasurable for me.
"Before the dragons escaped over the oceans from Akavir from Akaviri humans, there were no dragons here. Well, I can't say that perfectly. The Atmorans had their own legends of dragons, but I don't quite remember if any of them were said to come to Tamriel. In any case, when the dragons of Akavir came over, they found a bunch of tribes of humans. And when they found them, do you know what they did? They *enslaved* the humans they found. All of them. And they forced humans to revere them as gods for thousands of years, from the Dawn Age to the Merethic Age."
"And whenever dragons were found in more recent Eras, they caused so much death and so much damage, that the stage of technological progression we should be at has been stunted for nearly the last four eras. The wars and Crises that happened over the Eras certainly didn't help, though. Mirmulnir just got what he deserved after hundreds of years of damage he and other dragons did to Nirn. And he was one of the younger dragons. He hasn't even lived for as long as the others."
"All I did was be efficient about killing him. Would you not be the same towards a wolf or a deer? I removed his escape, removed his method of attack, and eliminated him without any losses in men under my command. That's a perfect victory, in my book."
"There are only three dragons that I know of in this world that truly deserve redemption. One hasn't had the chance to redeem himself, just yet. One spent thousands of years defeating his evil nature, and the last is in effective eternal torture in an dimensional prison." I continue, bitterly.
"One day, I will redeem the first, giving him the chance to atone for his actions; I will kill, or lie about killing, the second, because he becomes hated despite his best efforts; and I will allow the third to feel the sky and the breeze once again. For the dragons, there is very little to no such thing as a good ending. Their only hope for survival would be the Akatosh chantry to save them, or my personal protection."
The first I speak of is Odahviing, who lets me ride him in exchange for the chance at killing Alduin. He promises to serve me personally if Alduin is killed. The second is Paarthurnax, the dragon I like the most. The Blades don't support his existence because he used to be Alduin's general but he betrayed Alduin and trains himself at the peak of the Throat of the World, but despite this, the Blades ask me to kill him. If I don't kill him, they stop supporting me. The third is Durnehviir, a dragon who's locked in a place called the Soul Cairn, which I don't have a near long enough time to talk about.
"I just wish... There were some way to save some of them. It would be good if the second trained other dragons to fix their evil nature." I muttered. Then I had a great idea. 'Let's do that, actually. I'll take Paarthurnax to where the dragons who serve Alduin will be, and have him train them to control their nature.'
"Hmmm... I might be wrong. Maybe..." I continue. "There can be a good ending..."
"What is it?" Jenassa asks.
"I've got to think about it. I'll tell you two later. Or I won't. I still haven't decided if I want to hang around you two after the stunt you pulled last night."
The rest of the walk was in perpetual silence. Hadvar, meanwhile, just looked around in confusion. I forgot, I haven't told him what's happened, yet.
Until I hear...
"Drake?" Jenassa gets my attention.
"What?" I coldly respond.
"Back at the Inn, did we... Um... Did we... did... we rape you?" She asks, quietly.
Which immediately brings back bad memories.
"No, but it certainly seemed like you would." I snap. "I wouldn't even be traveling with you were it not for the current situation."
Uthgerd and Jenassa hangs their heads low. "...I–I'm sorry... Is there–," Uthgerd starts.
"No." I cut her off. "You two are not my favorite people right now. The best thing you could do right now is leave me alone. Thank the Nine you only stopped at using me as something warm. I tried stopping you, and getting out of there, but I couldn't stop the both of you at once. Were I drunk at the time, I don't even know who would have been taking advantage of who."
I direct my attention back to Hadvar. "Oh, yeah, sorry for not telling you what happened last night, Hadvar. As you may have noticed, I have some worries about the future."
With that, the girls grew silent. Hadvar's jaw drops wide open. The situation was definitely worse than he might've feared.
When we make it back to the stables, I put Myrmidon inside, and tie him to a post. I take over dragging the dragon remains from Myrmidon, and we enter Whiterun.
I go to Warmaiden's and tell Ulfberth that I've got some incredible materials and to come outside. After following me outside, he looks at the remains of the dragon.
"If your wife is willing, would she be willing to make me a sword or armor from these?"
"I know my wife." He looks at the ground. "I know how good she is at the forge... But these are *dragon bones*. This is far beyond her. So far beyond, that even I can tell. My wife would be willing, but she simply doesn't have the skill to be able to work with this. I'm sorry. I recommend you take it to Eorlund Gray-Mane, up near Jorrvaskr. He's the best smith here, in all of Skyrim, actually."
"Well, that's alright. Here. Your wife can have this. She can improve her skills on this. Thanks for the recommendation."
I pick out a large 3 foot wingbone and give it to him. I start dragging the dragonbone sled behind me again, up to Jorrvaskr. This thing is heavy, close to a couple hundred pounds, it feels like. Dragging it is hard enough, but I mean c'mon, not like it could get worse, right?
It got worse.
My heart drops when I get a rude reminder that there are stairs I still have to go up. I take the dragonbone sled up the side of the stairs, one step at a time. The girls try to offer to help me, but I deny them. When Hadvar suggests letting him help me, I let him. I don't want the girls touching me or being near me any more than what needs to be, which still isn't much.
Each excruciating step is more painful than the last. But the pain feels almost... Relieving. Exhilarating. It feels almost like I've been sleeping, and the pain is me waking up. My muscles have been feeling a bit weak, lately. I should probably start working out, in order to maintain muscle mass.
When I finally make it up the top of the stairs, I drag my dragonbone sled over to Jorrvaskr, and then groan. There's another set of stairs, almost four times the size, to get to the Skyforge, a forge that's been here since before the building of Whiterun. Behind the forge is a boulder that has been carved into the form of an eagle, it's wings stretching over and 'covering' the forge. The eyes of the eagle glow with a fiery scarlet orange. The forge itself looks like contains lava inside, but it's never really explained in the game.
As I painfully drag the sled up to the top, I gasp out, and drop it, once I've reached the top.
Eorlund Gray-mane, a Nord smith in his 60's with silver locks and a full grizzled pale yellow beard and mustache to go with it, looks over at me from his seat on a grindstone.
He's sharpening a steel sword, but even as his eyes pass over my crew, his hands angle the sword and slide it back and forth. He's clearly skilled at what he's doing, enough to do it while looking away.
"Got a lot of steel to shape. Make it quick." Eorlund says in a deep voice with a heavy Nordic accent.
"I hear you're the best smith in Skyrim." I begin.
"I am. So?" Eorlund is confident in himself, but he didn't say it arrogantly.
"I've got dragon bones." I continue.
"Cer'anly appears to be the case." His answer is very much in the tone of "yes Captain Obvious."
"Could you... make me a sword or armor from them?"
Eorlund sighs, then answers. "Give me a bone. I've go'a see if I can even work wi' it." He stands up and walks over to me.
I hand over the very end of the tailbone. He takes it, looks at it closely, and heads over to the actual forge. Next to the forge is a large stone area with lots of tools and pieces of armor and weapons on it.
He tosses it into the lava of the Skyforge.
It sorta just... floats there. It doesn't sink or anything.
Eorlund grabs a pair of tongs and pulls it out. He slowly reaches the back of his hand near it, then just grabs it.
The girls, Hadvar, and I had incredulous looks on our faces. We look at each other.
"Hmmm..... It's no' even warm." Eorlund has a curious look on his face. "This has ne'er happened before. Give me a few weeks. I'll figure something out. Here, catch. Put it with the rest of the bones. You can leave them there." He tosses the bone back to me.
I fumble it, like it was hot, then realized Eorlund's right. There's not even a degree of difference. I set it with the rest of the bones.
Eorlund clearly looks confused and I can make out a grain of interest in his face. But I leave it with him, and start heading to Dragonsreach.
The girls follow me, and I head to the Jarl.
Proventus, Irileth, and another man are already standing next to the Jarl, and Proventus looks to me and speaks.
"Good. You're finally here. The Jarl's been waiting for you."
Balgruuf looks to Proventus. "You heard the summons. What else could it mean? The Greybeards..."
The man from beside the Jarl starts. "We were just talking about you. My brother needs a word with you."
The as-of unrecognized guy is Hrongar, the brother of the Jarl. He also acts in counsel to Balgruuf. He's wearing horned hide armor, and wearing a large steel greatsword over his back.
Balgruuf looks to me and says, "So what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?"
"Unfortunately, the watchtower was decimated. We killed the dragon, though." I answer, bowing slightly.
"I knew I could count on Irileth. But there must be more to it than that." Balgruuf has a sense of urgency in his eyes.
"After the dragon died, something came out of it's corpse and I somehow absorbed it." I pretend like I have no idea what's going on.
"So it's true. The Greybeards were summoning you." He leans back and sighs.
"The... Greybeards?" I ask.
"Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World."
"What do they want?"
"The Dragonborn is uniquely gifted in the Voice - the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or Shout. If you really are Dragonborn, they can teach you how to use your gift." Hrongar speaks up.
"That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar! This hasn't happened in... centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!" Hrongar says, excitedly.
Proventus has a annoyed look on his face as he says, "Hrongar, calm yourself. What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as he may be, I don't see any signs of him being this, what, 'Dragonborn.'"
"Nord nonsense?! Why, you puffed-up ignorant... these are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!" Hrongar chides Proventus.
Balgruuf intervenes. "Hrongar. Don't be so hard on Avenicci."
"I meant no disrespect, of course. It's just that... what do these Greybeards want with him?" Proventus is worried about me.
Balgruuf answers him. "That's the Greybeards' business, not ours. Whatever happened when you (referring to the Dragonborn) killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards, it's a tremendous honor."
Balgruuf's face changes to one of longing. "I envy you, you know."
He continues. "To climb the 7,000 Steps again... I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that? High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Very... disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder that the Greybeards even notice what's going on down here. They haven't seemed to care before. No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you."
He smiles again, and waved someone over. It's Lydia, the Housecarl I'm about to get. She has dark blackish-brown hair, greenish-grey eyes, and fair skin. Her steel armor with Nordic steel gauntlets match up with her face well. She's much more beautiful in real life than in the game. Wait a minute, why are all the followers in Whiterun women?! Something doesn't really add up here... What were the developers thinking?
"You've done a great deed for me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl, and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office." Balgruuf raises his hand, and a guard immediately rushes off. "I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn."
A guard walks up to me, carrying an ebony sword, clearly styled in the same way as that of the ones from Oblivion, the game before Skyrim, based on the sheath alone. An old design to be sure, but a welcome one. It's mainly realistic design, combined with the beautiful gold engravings match up elegantly. The pommel has a beautifully red ruby inside it, accenting the entire weapon incredibly.
I take it, and unsheathe it. The words, "It's incredible," simply doesn't do the blade justice. It reflects more lighting than a mirror, it's dark surface reflecting my deepest thoughts, and the golden engravings crisscrossing the blade mark it as more valuable than anything else I'm currently carrying. A blade such as this doesn't come cheap, nor does it come at an easy price.
"Thank you, my Jarl. I accept this badge of office, and my role as Thane." I bow.
Balgruuf nods to me, then his gaze shifts behind me.
"Hmmm... I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Jarl Balgruuf. May I ask who you three are?"
"I am Jenassa, a hired mercenary currently under Drake's command, and I'd like to say, a friend of his."
"I am Uthgerd the Unbroken, or just Uthgerd if you prefer, Jarl, a friend of Drake's."
"And I am Hadvar, an Imperial. I am General Tullius' guardsman, and most assuredly, a friend of Drakes'."
Wait, why are they deferring to me? Is it because of what they did at the Inn? We've known each other for maybe 2 or 3 days at the most, I don't understand why they'd treat me as their objective leader. I could understand Jenassa, being that she's a hired mercenary, but why Uthgerd? And Hadvar? I suppose we've been together just about since the start of all this, nearly a week ago."
"Any friend of Drake's is a friend of mine. If ever you need my assistance, just come and ask. Irileth, if you see any of these three approach me, let them past."
After finishing with that, Balgruuf says, "Back to business, Proventus. We still have a city to defend."
Uthgerd and Jenassa bow again. Lydia approaches me.
"The Jarl has appointed me to be your housecarl. It's an honor to serve you." Her voice is much softer and smoother than in the game.
I nod, and ask her to wait for a minute.
The girls turn to me. "W-we are friends, right?" Jenassa asks.
"... I don't know. Only yesterday I'd say yes," I sigh out. "But now... I'm going to have to go to the Throat of the World. I think you can understand why I'm going to leave you here."
"Then my job is finished. Once again, I apologize for last night," Jenassa somberly says, her face frowning at Lydia a bit. Then she smirks a mix between coquettishly and hopefully, as she says, "It is a lonely thing, facing all the dangers of Skyrim by yourself. Come and find me if you decide that you miss my... companionship."
Uthgerd slaps Jenassa lightly on the back of the head, saying, "Seriously? But yeah... I get it. I'm also sorry. I don't normally act like that. I'll be at my house in the Wind District if you need me."
After saying their pieces, the girls head off to their respective domiciles.
Hadvar turns to me, and reaches out his hand, before saying, "If you ever need my help, or the Legion's, for that matter, I'd be glad to lend a hand, or my ears. I'll be there for you. I'll be on my way to Solitude, now, so... I s'pose this goodbye for now."
I grasp his wrist in a handshake, before pulling him into a hug, slapping his back. "Same to you, friend. Watch out for the wolves on the trail. Seems they bite a lot this time of year." We break our embrace, and I continue. "I'll be there in Solitude soon enough, what with the... game." I wink, and he nods, understanding. I smile, and see him off the doors of the palace. There Hadvar goes, off on his way to Solitude.
I turn to face Lydia, and study her face. She's in her early-twenties, same as me. Shorter than me by a good couple inches. Her eyes look up into mine, and I, deep into hers. She breaks our staring at each other away first. She puts her head down, blushes a little, and says, "Yes, my Thane?"
"My first question. Do you drink alcohol, and if you do, how much?"
She looks up, thinking about it. "Ummm... I'd say not really. I'm a lightweight drinker. I can barely finish a glass of mead before falling unconscious, so I don't tend to drink that often."
"Good. I don't drink that often either, and problems occurred last time alcohol got into the hands of my party. I'm glad that won't be an issue this time."
"Now, for my second. If you had to travel suddenly, would you be ready to go anywhere?" I ask. I need to know if she's able to climb a mountain, cross an ocean, ride across the plains, or simply hike a while.
She looks up and answers confidently. "Not anywhere, immediately. But I can be, if I have a day to gather supplies."
"Have you ever been to High Hrothgar?" I ask. I can see her trying not to get her hopes up.
"I have not. I have been up other mountains, though." She shakes her head and answers.
"Alright. Take tomorrow to gather supplies for yourself. Prepare for the cold heights of a mountain." I instruct her.
"Wait, do you mean...?" She asks, her eyes sparkling. Her softly clenched fists rose to her chest.
"Yes. You're coming with me to High Hrothgar. We leave the day after tomorrow. Meet me at the gates of the city at the eighth hour two days from now." I answer.
———————————
¹Reference to a movie called How to Train Your Dragon.
-----------------
Funds: 1,603 septims
Weapons:
💠 - Orcish Sword of Paralysis
💠 - Blade of Whiterun (Ebony longsword, 10 points Frost damage, 5 to Stamina)
💠 - Quicksilver Throwing Knives {x5}
💠 - Nordic Daggers {x2}
- Elven Bow, Unstrung {x12 Elven Arrows}
- Orcish Sword
Apparel:
💠 - Refurbished Steel Helm (15% more armor)
💠 - Steel Armor (HP Regen. Injury Heal Rate 25%↑, Light Wound Heal 50%↑)
💠 - Spiked Steel Gauntlets (+20 extra H2H damage)
💠 - Refitted Steel Boots (15% more armor)
💠 - Custom Quicksilver buckler (18% more armor)
- Winter Cloak (20% Cold Resistance)
- Shield of the Dragonslayer (Heater, 40% Fire Resistance)
Potions:
- Mysterious Potion x4
Food:
- Basket of Fruits and Vegetables; {onions x4, apples x8, leeks x5, potatoes x8, head of cabbage x2, carrots x6, loaves of bread x2}
Books:
- Stack of Stormcloak notes and letters to family {x15}
- Letter to Thrynn & Torturer's Ring
- Spell Tome: Sparks
- Spell Tome: Oakflesh
Scrolls:
- Scroll of Blizzard
Supplies:
- Backpack
- Bedroll
- Cooking pan
- Waterskin
- Metal Bowl
- Torches {x3}
- Tent
Miscellaneous:
- Lockpicks {x1}
- Vial for Mysterious Potion
- Golden Claw
- Potion bottle remains