Lo'ahn. The one with a hundred titles. Khajiit. Thane of all holds. Archmage of the College of Winterhold. Destroyer of the Dark Brotherhood. Ender of the Rebellion. Bane to the undead. Savior of orphans. Upholder of the law. Adventurer. Dragonslayer. Savior of the world. Dovahkiin.
Forgotten.
You would think that one of such high status would feel as if she were the center of the world. That she should be held as high or even above the ruler of Skyrim. But no, Lo'ahn felt none of this. She felt alone, forgotten, unfufilled.
"I am one of the richest people in Skyrim." She said aloud as she decended the stairs from the top floor of her home in Solitude. "I have every book, every weapon and piece of armor, every house I could purchase here. I have slain Aludin and defeated hundreds of monsters, yet I am treated lower than some of the beggars I have made rich in jewels and drink."
Lo'ahn arrived on the middle floor of her home. After a moment of looking around, she took to the stairs again and continued to decend.
"I have traveled for miles, seen everything there is to see and collected artifacts of heros long dead, but I feel as if I have done nothing with my life."
The Khajiit reached the bottom floor and continued walking, ignoring the glowing enchanting table, impressive dragonplate and dragonscale armor on display, and the hard-fought-for legendary blades and shields mounted on the walls.
Lo'ahn turned the corner into her alchemy room. The fire seemed to spark a rage inside of her. "I am undefeatable in battle, able to take down a dragon with a few blows and kill fifty men with nothing but my voice and spells, yet I could not save my housecarl and husband from death by a group of mages and an assassin!" She yelled, knocking several bowls of frost salts and vampire dusts from a shelf into the fire, which lept up and changed from a nice red to an angry purple-green as the powders were fed to it. Lo'ahn watched them burn, seething with hatred to the world and herself. As the flames receded, however, so did her anger. By the time the fire had returned to its normal red glow, she was slumped against a wall and close to tears.
"I need to get out of here." She told no one. "I need to..." Lo'ahn stopped for a moment. She couldn't think of anywhere to go; anyone who could comfort her.
"Paarthurnax." She thought aloud. It had been nearly a year and a half since the old dragon had set off to teach the Way of the Voice to the other dragons, but the Khajiit had heard many rumors that a dragon had been sighted back near the Throat of the World recently.
Lo'ahn took to the idea immediately. She rushed back up the stairs to her bedroom to get ready for the long journey. She changed into an older by warm cloak before grabbing her most accurate bow, a quiver of her finest arrows, and her most favored weapon; a deadly Ebony Greatsword. It may not have been the most powerful weapon at her disposal, but it had served her well in many fierce battles.
She finished off by grabbing some light provisions from her pantry as well as a few blankets and torches from a cupboard. Deciding that of she truely needed anything else, she could probably find it on the way there. Nodding to herself, she left her home.
As soon as she had locked the door behind her a fierce blast of biting winter wind hit Lo'ahn full on the face, leaving several snowflakes in her fur. It was the middle of Morning Star, time time where Skyrim was at its coldest. Lo'ahn considered turning tail and retreating into her warm house instead of venturing out into the wilderness and traversing the long distance between Solitude and Ivarstead on horseback, not to mention the 7000 steps to High Hrothgar and the even more perilous passage to the Throat of the World, but she instead stepped out onto the street and headed to the front gates of Solitude.
"I am the Dragonborn." She muttered, watching the clouds from her breath form and float away. "I can handle a little snow."
Lo'ahn marched through the snow, buried deep in her coat. There weren't many people out because of the weather, and the ones who were hurried past the Khajiit without even a greeting. Still, in spite of the snow work went on. Lo'ahn's sensitive earw made out the crack of sparring soldiers in the Castle Dour courtyard, the clang of hammer of steel above her head from Beirand, and the call of the market stall owners.
The last sound actually surprised Lo'ahn a bit. Normally the stall owners closed up shop during the colder days of winter. The Khajiit's curiousness drew her over to the market to show her that was true of all but one stall that day; Evette Sam was still out, calling out to seemingly no one about her famous Spiced Wine.
"Well it's a fine day with you around." Evette greeted as Lo'ahn approached.
"As fine a day it can be in this kind of weather, anyways." The Dovahkiin replied. "What are you doing out here, Evette? It's freezing. No one's about."
"Ah, but could they resist the idea of a good bottle of Spiced Wine to warm their throats and bellies?" Evette asked.
Lo'ahn thought for a moment before smiling. "No," She laughed. "And neither can I! Give me half a dozen bottles." The Khajiit fished some Septims out of her pocket and handed them over. Evette happily obliged.
"Going somewhere?" The stallworker asked, spying Lo'ahn's trusty greatsword as the Khajiit moved to put the bottles into her pack.
"I'm going to visit... a friend." Lo'ahn said as she made sure the bottles were secure. "In Ivarstead."
"All the way out there?" Evette asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "You were always a strange one. Divines be with you!"
"As you." Lo'ahn replied as she left. She went back to trudging through the snow towards the gate in a slightly better mood than before. She even made it through the gate before she had to listen to a guard's ramblings about lost adventures and the need for better knee protection.
Lo'ahn didn't pause as she left Solitude. She headed straight down the path leading towards the Karth River and followed it just a short distance to Katla's Farm. No one appeared to be outside, so Lo'ahn led heself over to the stables.
"Hey there Yurue." Lo'ahn said softly, stroking the nose of her proud palamino horse as she gave him a carrot. "We're going to Ivarstead." She quickly found all the harnessing she needed and put it on Yurue. After making sure all of the straps were in place, she swung herself onto the saddle and grabbed the reins.
"Alright, let's go." She said, riding the steady horse forward. Just as they left the property it began to snow lightly, but the skies foretold a much harder time to come.
"Well isn't this just going to be fun." Lo'ahn muttered. "I sure hope Paarthurnax is actually there." She angled Yurue down the path and urged him into a brisk trot, hoping to cover at least some ground before the storm came.