Before Minthara is able to finish her approach, the thick metallic gates open on their own, the slight wave of warmth coming from within beckoning us to enter. The Dragonborn entered without hesitation, and we followed but a moment later.
The dim halls, lit only by a few oddly symmetrically burned candles, were as blocky and barren of anything save for a few stone benches carved just before the entrance to what I easily discerned was the central chamber of the temple.
Absentmindedly I also noted that there was not a single speck of dust present either, the place was so clean it was to the point of it being impossible without magic... or potentially a shout.
'It would be hilarious if the same group who declared that the voice should not be used in vain invented a clean floors shout.' I muse with an internal chuckle.
'Or you know, they could just use magic.' Scorch deadpans.
'That too.' I hum 'Still, the shout would be funnier.'
I feel him nod in agreement but any further theory-crafting on the Grebeards' potential heresy to their own traditions is stopped as Minthara reaches the far end of the hall and barges into the main hall with barely any more reverence than myself.
Almost as if choreographed 'Don't kid yourself' a quartet of old Nord men with long, elaborately braided grey beards stand at the center of the chamber, all of their eyes focused on us.
At first, they were fully focused on the obvious demigod in their presence, Minthara's aura having grown to such a level that most people are able to pick up on at least a tiny bit of it and thus be drawn by it at this point, but once they saw me it took them only the briefest moment to realize who I was, even if my own aura was completely undetectable.
A couple of them, specifically the two of whom looked a tad younger than the others, glared at me briefly but they were thankfully not petty enough to forget their duty to mere enmity and focused back on their supposed 'charge'.
The youngest, Arngeir if memory served, stepped out in front of the group and made a show of taking a long discerning look at Minthara, just as she was about to roll her eyes he spoke "So... A Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of an age." He pauses briefly "I am Master Argneir, and I speak for the Greybeards. Tell me, why have you come to this place?"
Minthara's eye twitches immediately, earning a concerned look from the eldest Greybeard. Still, she remains unbothered and asks with a fair bit of irritation in her tone "Was it not you who announced my presence to the entire world, and every single dragon out there?" She leans in threateningly "Have you called me here to play games, or for an actual purpose?"
Argneir's eyes soften somewhat at that "You have my apologies for that, child, but our traditions dictated that should the dragons return, and a Dragonborn with them, we were to summon them for training as quickly as we could."
"Your traditions." Her lips thin "Have made me an obvious target to a bunch of immortal warmongers." The subconscious perception of everyone shifts as her eyes narrow into slits and Arngeir finds himself feeling as if she towered over him, even if she was barely taller than him physically "And what training could a bunch of mountain-bound pacifists give me that would aid me in slaying dragons? You know, the same creatures to whom the language of the thu'um belongs in the first place." Her tone shifts from mildly furious to sarcastic as she forces herself to relax somewhat.
Arngeir weathers the barrage patiently before bowing slightly "I assure you that we did not wish to force anything on you, had the dragons not returned fully we would have continued ignoring your existence, much like we did when you slew the wyrm hiding underground years ago."
Minthara startles at this and I raise an eyebrow 'Tricksy little spies, the bunch of them.'
She blinks in surprise "So you knew already." She deflates slightly, before suddenly realizing something and focusing back on him "While I am grateful you did not do so, I have to ask: Is your order not dutybound to offer training to any Dragonborn, dragons or no dragons?"
"We did not feel it wise." Arngeir answers immediately and his eyes shift to me, their previous glint turning far less friendly at that "You were already taken in by someone who perverted the use of the thu'um, and we did not wish to unleash another Tiber Septim onto the world."
She looks like she wants to say something but holds herself back and merely palms her face slowly and lets out a long exhale.
I, on the other hand, let out a loud snort of disdain, earning glares from all but the eldest tongue this time "What a bunch of hypocrites." I drawl as their attention falls fully onto me "A Dragonborn does not appear onto the world without good reason, are you telling me that if she was not to your liking even without my presence you would not have done your duty?"
"The voice is not a tool to be used for slaughter and conquest." Arngeir grits out after glaring at me for a while longer "No amount of necessity justifies unleashing this power onto the world, not that a power hungry blasphemer like you would understand."
I burst out laughing at this, stunning the man briefly as he expected me to be offended by his 'insult' "Oh that is rich!" I exclaim "Was it not you who taught Ulfric all that he knew and then unleashed him upon the world?"
He winces, and all of the Greybeards look pained at the reminder "Ulfric Stormcloak was the last heir of the line of Windhelm, we had to make... allowances." Arngeir forces the words out, probably more for Minthara's benefit than my own.
"Oh, I see how it is." Minthara nods 'sagely' "Your traditions only matter when they don't cost you anything. What great wisdom the 'neutral order' of the Greybeards has shown."
'Gooooood my apprentice, goooood.' Scorch does his best Palpatine impression in my mind.
"Besides." I cut in with a light glare of my own "I do not believe any of you belong to the high priesthoods of either the church of Auri-El or that of Akatosh, you do not get to decide if the child of the Chief Divine gets your respect or not."
Arngeir seems taken aback by my point, he stares at the two of us for a long while and then pulls back to the rest of his brothers. The greybeards proceed to whisper amongst themselves in Dovahzul, probably expecting us not to understand their debate on how to proceed now that they found the Dragonborn unwilling to simply follow their teachings.
"Very interesting, Master Wulfgar." Minthara speaks in perfectly fluent dragontongue "Now if you would kindly stop disrespecting the rest of my followers and speak Tamrielic instead that would be most appreciated."
'You do realize her "request" was far less polite than that, right?' Scorch gives me a mental look.
"Yes." I add with a lazy drawl, ignoring the fun police bird "This whole charade is getting incredibly tiresome."
For obvious reasons, my understanding of their conversation seems to shake them far more than that of Mitnhara as all of them look at me with wide, and most of all worried, eyes.
"Calm your breeches you crotchety old fools." I roll my eyes "I may be able to understand the language but not all of us are fluent in it without the smallest bit of effort." I give the demigoddess a light glare at this to which she only returns a look of such smugness I was barely able to hold my eye back from twitching.
Poorly hiding his obvious astonishment Arngeir offers her a tight smile "Well, it would seem that the usual tests will not be necessary, being able to speak the tongue with such force is not something a mortal would be able to accomplish, without turning greyer than all of us combined, that is."
His smile, small as it was, disappears as he dips his head once again "And your... companion is right, we do not get to choose whether we do our duty or not, High Hrothgar welcomes you and your followers as guests and we shall impart some of our teachings before you depart on your task."
"A task?" Minthara's voice turns icy "What do you mean by that exactly."
"As much as it may pain me to deny you after all that." Arngeir holds back a wince "It is tradition that you complete a task before High Hrothgar is truly open to you and we offer our unlimited aid in delving into the voice." Noticing she looked unconvinced he pressed "Even Tiber Septim himself completed this task once he still bore the name Hjalti."
She stared at the old men for so long that I felt some of them were about to start fidgeting, but it seemed Minthara still held some respect for the poor fools as she sighed in defeat "Fine, not like I planned on camping out up here for a year."
"Cheer up, might be some good loot where you are going!" I offer her a thumbs up, knowing damn well I was not following her into those caves.
The rest of the group, who had remained at an appropriate distance while the chamber was occasionally shaken by someone speaking in big lizard, started slowly approaching, Marco looking visibly relaxed that the whole thing didn't turn into a literal shouting match.
But naturally, this was not the end as Arngeir turned to me with a frown "You, however, are not welcome in these halls. Leave and do not return."
Marco's previous relaxation disappeared faster than light itself.
Minthara's hand started to twitch, she was already tired of the back and forth and was starting to look real punchy at this point.
"Hahahaha." I pretended to laugh before my face turned deathly serious "No."
"You would invade our temple when you are not wanted?" His frown deepens.
"Of course, I would." I grin "I am a blasphemer, am I not?" I pause and tilt my head "Besides, I am not going to give you the opportunity to do anything underhanded, the thu'um can be used in many ways and you were just hypocritical enough that I can see you stepping out of line if given the opportunity."
He seems confused briefly, a state not shared by his tongue-tied brethren as they all look at me, genuinely offended "Are you implying that we would use the voice to place our charge under our control?!" Arngeir barks.
Minthara's eyes widen for a split second and she turns defensive, her eyes shifting between me and the monks.
"It is possible." I nod "And thus something that someone is capable of doing with enough motivation."
The lead monk ponders on the implications before nodding slightly "I can understand your doubts, politicians are rarely trusting." He seemed mildly disappointed I was not offended by his words "But our order is not aware of any kind of controlling shout, so you may rest assured."
I nod a couple of times as if in agreement "I am still staying though."
Arngeir lips thin into a line "No, the peace of our halls has been disturbed enough already."
"It was?" I tilt my head before my own lips twist into a predatory grin "I do wonder what a certain overlord of a particular ambition and cruelty* would have to say about that?" I cup my chin "Now that I mention it I may even visit the old thing and ask him myself."
All for of the Greybeards instinctually shifted into a stance that would allow them to shout with greater ease, but before they could so much as breathe in they felt tiny pricks on their throats and chests, they looked down to find a duo of shadows each holding daggers to their hearts and throats, with only the slightest twitch necessary to send them to the afterlife.
"Now, now!" I raise my hand both mocking and placating "I merely wish to explore a place of such great history, and it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to judge you for consorting with dragons." I pause and allow my aura to burst forth, a small wind already gathering around me "Besides, how many are as worthy as I to make pilgrimage to Kyne's holy sites?"
All of them become even more still, the revelation stunning them utterly. A moment later their confusion turns to a kind of religious curiosity. Well, at least that of the elders' as Arngeir was currently busy glaring holes into me with his eyes practically screaming 'Why did you not simply lead with that?!'
I shrug "Because that would have been less funny."
All four of the probably centuries old men deadpan at that answer and seeing as the tension had left them I unsummoned my shades.
There was some awkward shuffling as they started leading us toward the open grounds behind the temple for some kind of demonstration, with the three elders conversing with Minthara in hushed tones and Arngeir walking beside me, probably so he can keep an eye out or something.
He was content with remaining silent the entire way but I obviously had other ideas.
"By the way, how do you keep the floors clean in this place?" I ask after a brief silence.
The man just looks at me like I am an idiot before waving his hand and telekinetically moving some air.
"Fair enough."
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*Paarthurnax's name means "Ambition Overlord Cruelty"
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I too am a cruel overlord, appeased only by vast wealth of stone.
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