Prologue

In a dimly lit room of the Companions living quarters the Harbinger Torlin sat polishing his armor. Mounted on the walls around him were the spoils of war from his fight during the Dragon Crisis. There were weapons of all kinds, four stood out from the rest, Wuuthrad, the Mace of Molag Bal, and finally Volendrung the Hammer of Might. He had arrived at Skyrim attempting to cross the border but he was caught and sentenced to execution with Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, he hadn't known it at the time. Alduin had attacked the fort helping him to escape. After he had fled the fort, wandering the forest he came upon three stones sitting upright on a stone base. One stone had the depiction of a warrior on it; the stone had called out to him. As he had placed his hand on the stone a bright light had shown forth from it and he had been flooded with energy. He had managed to scrounge a sword from the fort and he pulled it forth now. He seemed to know what to do with it to parry a thrust, how to block a downward swing, how to slash without leaving his guard open. Of course being a Redguard he wasn't clueless. He had been around weapons all his life. Now he just seemed like he could take any being on. From there he had travelled to Riverwood there he had acquired a set of Iron armor, not much but enough. He had travelled to Whiterun where he had slain his first dragon and absorbed its soul. The Greybeards had called to him, but before he had left he joined the Companions. While in their order he had become friends with whom he considered his mentor and friend Kodlak Whitemane. He had travelled all over Skyrim fighting in the Dragon Crisis, occasionally he returned to Whiterun to help the Companions. Whenever he did he would always sit and talk with Kodlak. When he had finally killed Alduin for good he returned to Jorrvaskr there Kodlak had explained that he wished to rid himself of the Beast. The Beast had served the Dovakiin well over the years, why would Kodlak wish to remove it. Kodlak had explained that no one with the Blood was allowed to enter Sonvngarde. The Dovakiin had seen Sonvngarde with his own eyes; he truly wished to enter its halls. He had set out to find the heads of the witches that bestowed the power upon them. When he returned he found Kodlak killed by the Silver Hand. They then began the journey to free Kodlak's soul of the Beast. Eorland Grey-Beard had repaired Wuuthrad for him and they journeyed to Ysgramor's tomb where he had cleansed his spirit and that of Kodlak of the Beast. He had been named Harbinger of the Companions. He sat on his bed polishing his armor surrounded by his possessions. His proudest one was his suit of armor, every night he polished it till the bones gleamed like glass struck by mid days sun. It had taken him many months to gather all the dragon bones, and dragon scales needed. Even then it took him months still to acquire the necessary experience in smithing to craft the armor. He was now a master smith with the skill to work any metal. His favorite sword was a Daedric sword with a health draining enchantment he himself had cast. He had taken the heart of a Dremora that was guarding Malyn Varen in the Azura's Star and used it to create the sword. The Black Star was sitting on his desk. He finished polishing his armor and put it away in the chest at the foot of his bed. He rose and crossed the room to his desk. He sat there busying himself with nonsense, yearning to travel Skyrim again. Why shouldn't he leave he thought to himself, he wasn't the leader of the Companions, he was the Harbinger, they could live without him for a little while.

His mind made up, He rose from the desk walked over to his chest and pulled out his armor. Placing it over his chest he began to pull on his gauntlets, and boots. Soon he was all suited up; finally he placed his dragon plate helm on his head. He fished around in the bottom of the chest and pulled out an oil cloth. He began to unwrap it until he pulled out an amulet. It was the Amulet of Talos, while wearing it his Thu'um would head his call faster than normal. He stepped over to the wall filled with weapons and selected his Daedric sword, and Dragon plate shield. He had strengthened them both and his armor at the Sky Forge. He wrote a note to the Companions explaining his intentions and nailed it to his door. Quietly he made his way out of Jorrvaskr, once outside he threw a cloak over his shoulders and put his helm in his pack. His size combined with his armor made him look like a very large man under the cloak. Torlin moved through Whiterun until he was out of the city and at the stables. He saddled his horse and mounted, he led the horse onto the road. On the road he stopped short, he hadn't a clue where to go. He sat a moment mulling over where to go, he finally decided to travel to Solitude he had spent almost no time in the city. It was the seat of the Empires power, and he was a Redguard. Hammerfell had seceded from the empire long ago, and it was the only country ever to fight off the Aldmeri Dominion. It was his second night on the road and he had just passed Silent Moons Camp. He was riding down the road when he out of nowhere an arrow struck the side of his helm. The blow rang his head and momentarily stunned him; another arrow struck his horse killing it. The horse collapsed and Torlin rolled free, in a flash he was on his feet sword drawn and shield raised. The arrow that had struck him was a simple iron arrow. He smiled to himself it was not often that bandits worked up the nerve to challenge him. He did not have to wait long, no sooner had he reached his feet then four bandits charged him. Their armor and weapons were in a dilapidated state, they had almost no training or experience. They were mores used to their victims cowering and giving them anything they wanted rather than facing a seasoned warrior. The first Bandit ran at him with a shield and sword, he swung his sword in a downward arc aiming for Torlin's head. Torlin raised his shield and stopped the swing, he thrusted his sword into the Bandits stomach, before the bandit could strike the ground Torlin pivoted to face his next opponent. The highwayman held a war hammer high above his head in preparation to strike him down. Torlin stepped into the man's charge and bashed him with his shield. The man was knocked to the ground and a quick thrust from Torlin's blade ended his life. He turned and saw there was only one more bandit left. A war axe lying in the road told him the other bandit had fled for his life. The last man had on better armor than the others and his sword was sharp and his armor well cared for. They circled each other, each taking measure of his opponent.

Torlin saw that the chief was holding his shield close to his chest. He would not make the same mistakes his friends made. This one wouldn't leave himself open to any attacks. Torlin rushed toward the chief and swung his sword. His opponent parried the plow with his own sword and countered with a cut to his midsection. Torlin blocked it with his own parry and thrusted his sword towards the chief. Rather than use his shield to stop the thrust directly as Torlin had expected him to do, he bashed it aside with his shield and stepped forward and stabbed at him. Torlin was forced to jump aside; in the same movement he swung his sword downward upon the chiefs out stretched arm. The daedric blade cut through skin, bone, and muscle as if it were soft butter. The bandit stood their staring at the stump where his hand used to be.

"My hand" The chief whimpered seconds before a swing of Torlin's sword removed his head from his shoulders. Torlin looked around him at the three bodies; he knelt down and began searching their bodies. He took all their gold as they owed him a horse, everything else he left. He stood there in the middle of the road and sighed. Now he would have to walk all the way to Morthal the closes place to where he could get another horse. With that he turned, sheathed his sword, slung his shield over his back and continued down the road.