Dovahkiin and Dovah-klutz

by HarmonyM

Jaydra has always had a reputation for breaking everything she touches. When it is revealed she is one of two Dragonborn, everyone thinks Akatosh must have lost a bet with Sheogorath. But Jaydra comes to realize that being the clumsiest, unluckiest Redguard in Tamriel has its advantages. Rated T for violence and mild adult themes.

I: Throwing Rocks

Helgen, I thought as I approached the city walls. This is going to be the start of a new life for me.

A guard pacing in front of the gate saw me. "I haven't seen you around before," he called. "Not many Redguards in Skyrim. What brings you here?"

"I'm striking out on my own," I said, holding my head up high. "My parents wrote to the commander asking if he had a position for me here."

"Ah, yes," the guard said, nodding. "We're short on staff in the scullery."

My breath came out in a hiss before I could stop myself. Redguards had a reputation of being consummate warriors. I had hoped I could keep up my haughty façade a bit longer, but it looked like everyone here knew I was needed to do common chores.

Well, no matter. This was only a temporary position, until I could prove myself capable with a weapon.

I tried to get out of it, though. "Has the commander changed his mind?"

"What's the matter? Too good to wash dishes?"

"I… I'm not exactly good around dishes… or anything fragile, really…" I said evasively.

He just stared at me, waiting for me to continue.

Might as well admit it, I thought, letting out a gusty sigh. "All right, I sorta break everything I touch."

"Hmm… Maybe you could tend the horses."

"Ah, well… Horses like to kick me. I don't know what I ever did to them…"

"Can you ride?"

"Ah… I'd know if a horse let me stay in the saddle long enough to find out…"

"So if you're prone to breaking things and you can't ride a horse, why did your parents send you here?"

I remained silent, waiting for him to figure it out on his own.

He sighed. "How are you with a sword?"

"I've picked up a few," I said, hoping that would satisfy him.

It didn't. "And?" he prompted.

I gritted my teeth. "And I always seem to be bleeding when I put them back down."

"How about before then? You're a Redguard, surely you know how to fight?"

"Yeah, I can use a sword," I said, feeling more confident. As long as the blade was in my hand, I could hold my own against my father.

I neglected to tell the guard about how my family had started calling me butter-fingers.

"Well, you certainly sound like you could use some training, but we're short-staffed enough that I'm sure the commander won't care. Follow me."

He led me through the gate and into one of the guard towers. There was an older man leaning over a map spread on a table.

"Uncle Tullius?" I asked in surprise. I hadn't expected to see him here.

He looked up curiously, then smiled and came over to me. "Jaydra! I haven't seen you in ages!" He gripped me in a bear hug.

"Father says he keeps inviting you to come visit, but you're always so busy," I wheezed, returning the hug.

Tullius wasn't really my uncle, but he and my father had fought side-by-side in their youth, saving each others' lives more times than they could remember, and were as close as brothers, so I had grown up thinking of him as my uncle. My father had gotten married and settled down on a prosperous farm just across the border in Cyrodiil, while Tullius had pursued his military career.

Tullius broke into my inner reflections. "I take it your parents finally got tired of you breaking everything and spooking the livestock?"

"Uncle Tullius…" I whined softly, hearing the guard snicker behind me.

He gave my arm a reassuring squeeze as he pulled away. "No matter. A few weeks of military discipline will break you of those tendencies, and then we can see if you're cut out to be a soldier. I always told your father he should try it."

"Yes, he mentions it. A lot," I grumbled.

He motioned for me to follow. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't put you in the scullery on the first day. You could help sharpen blades… Are you still prone to cut yourself every time you pick up a blade?"

"I might be," I said evasively.

"I'll give you some leather gloves. Or have you polish the armor… Hmm… Your father said you got confused once and stuck his old plate armor on the grindstone…"

"That gave it character," I said defensively.

"General Tullius!" a guard called. "The Thalmor are here!"

"Oh, great," Tullius muttered.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. "Aren't we allied with the Aldmeri Dominion?"

"It's not that," he said. "Last time they were here, a crow… well… pooped on one of their heads, and he made quite a fuss about it. Acted like it was our idea." He suddenly looked at me thoughtfully. "How is your aim?"

"I'm a master at hitting things," I said truthfully. Too bad I didn't intend to hit most of them…

"Great. How about you climb up on top of the city wall and keep the crows away? Shoot them, throw rocks at them, I don't care, just don't let them near the Thalmor."

"Yes, sir," I said,

I headed back inside and climbed a spiral staircase to the top of the city wall. I walked up to the guard on duty and said, "General Tullius asked me to come up here and keep the crows away from the Thalmor."

"Pity," he said with a smirk. "Those crows gave us the best show we've had in months. There should be a bow in that crate over there."

I went to the crate he indicated and pulled out a simple longbow and a quiver of iron arrows. I nocked an arrow and looked around for a crow. I spied one and drew the arrow back.

The bowstring snapped a split second before the wooden part of the bow above my hand broke. The top piece went flipping through the air and over the edge of the wall, followed quickly by a scream from one of the Thalmor. I dropped flat to the floor.

The guard ran over to the edge of the wall. "Sorry about that! It was a freak accident!" he called down. He looked down at me and whispered, "It's okay, it missed. You just scared him."

"Oh. Good." I cautiously rose just enough to peer over the wall. None of the Thalmor were looking up at us now. I sighed with relief.

"That's odd, though," the guard said. "That was a new bow."

"I suspect I have some of the worst luck in all of Tamriel," I grumbled.

He scuffed his feet on the walkway, then kicked a few loose rocks over to me. "Here, how about you try throwing these instead? They're probably too small to do any real damage if something goes wrong. Just try not to hit the windows."

"Good idea," I said. I picked one up and scanned the area again. I noticed another crow perched on the wall not too far away, staring at the Thalmor while hopping on one leg like he needed to relieve himself. I tossed the rock at him, and it thunked into his side. He let out an indignant squawk and flew away.

"Wow," I said softly as I watched the bird fly away, "I actually did something right!"

"Maybe your luck is improving. Try it again."

I threw another pebble. It barely grazed the top of the next crow's head, but it was enough to make the crow leave Helgen too.

I shook my head in disbelief. "It must have been something about my parents' farm that was making everything go wrong. The property must be cursed."

"Or maybe you made a few mistakes early on and your family reminded you enough to convince you it was bad luck, and you've been messing up ever since," the guard observed.

I opened my mouth to counter that idea, thought about it, and ended up just staring at him quizzically. "Really?" I finally asked.

"Well, I don't know your situation, but…" he began, then some sort of commotion drew our attention. Off in the distance southeast of Helgen, we could see several horse-drawn carts approaching, each carrying several men. The procession was surrounded by soldiers.

"Wonder what's up with that?" I asked. "They wouldn't bring soldiers along for a common delivery, would they?"

"Maybe they've captured some Stormcloaks."

I wanted to stay and watch the carts approach, but a crow cawing nearby reminded me what I was supposed to be doing. Looking around for another target, I noticed there was one tower higher than the others. If I went up there, I'd have a better view of the city. It would make it easier to spot the crows, and I could watch the carts too, if they came inside the city walls..

I made my way over to the tall tower, with the guard following. By the time we reached the top, the carts were coming in through the gate.

"Is that…? That's Ulfric Stormcloak!" the guard exclaimed.

"Whoa, they finally caught him?" I asked, scanning the carts below. Sure enough, Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion and murderer of Skyrim's High King Torygg, was seated in the back of one of the carts, his hands bound and a gag tied over his mouth.

I studied the other prisoners. Most of them were dressed in Stormcloak armor, except for two men. These were both simply wearing worn clothing and looked out of place among the soldiers. One was a bedraggled dark-haired Nord who seemed to be panicking over something. The other was a heavily-built red-haired Nord who looked dazed.

The carts rolled up to the middle of Helgen's town square, right below my tower. Suddenly, with a sick feeling, I noticed an Imperial soldier standing beside a chopping block, holding a massive battleaxe. "Oh, gods, are they about to execute them?" I squeaked.

"Ulfric is dangerous," the guard said with a shrug. "He killed King Torygg with his voice alone. It's safest this way. We don't want him escaping and prolonging the civil war, do we?"

"No, but… I don't think I want to watch this. I can barely be in the yard on slaughter-day." Not that my parents wanted me to come help, though. Gods only knew what I'd screw up, given a sharp knife and an angry cow…

"How are you going to be a soldier, then?"

"Those men are tied up. It would be different if they were free and armed."

"Well… I guess so. But you still need to scare those crows off."

He was right. Ulfric's execution was a momentous occasion. If one of the Thalmor got pooped on again in the middle of it…

Gritting my teeth and swallowing hard, I picked up a few more small stones. I'd just keep my eyes up on the battlements when the chopping was underway.

I sighted another crow perched on a roof near me and drew back my arm. Just as I was about to throw the rock, the bedraggled Nord started calling out to the Eight Divines to save him. It startled me and I missed my target.

"When I call your names, you will step forward," one of the soldiers announced to the men in the carts. I winced, knowing this was going to be even harder to hear if I knew their names. I tried to swallow my revulsion and concentrated on the crow again.

I threw another stone at it. It would have hit its target, but the crow hopped nimbly out of the way.

I frowned at the crow, which seemed to be giving me a challenging look. I threw another rock, and the crow successfully dodged again.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!" the soldier called. I glanced down briefly at the traitorous jarl, then back at the crow. I threw another rock at it, and it dodged out of the way, then started hopping defiantly.

"Don't push me," I warned the crow. "Go join your friends in the woods, or you're going to regret it…"

I did my best to ignore him as the soldier kept calling names. I threw three more rocks at the crow, with similar results. The only difference was the increasing exuberance of the crow's triumphant hopping each time it dodged.

"All right, I warned you," I growled, readying a Fireball spell. Let's se that glorified chicken dodge this…

Oh, wait, the stupid bird was perched on a stack of wooden barrels. Maybe Fireball wasn't the best course of action…

"Lokir of Rorikstead!" the soldier called.

"No, please, you have to listen to me! I'm not a Stormcloak!" the bedraggled Nord screamed.

I noticed a rock almost as big as my fist lying on the floor by my feet. I picked it up, grinning maliciously.

I focused on the crow, trying to tune the world out. I distantly heard Lokir protesting and insisting they couldn't do this to him, but I pushed all other thoughts away, narrowing my world to the rock in my hand and the defiant crow perched on the wall. This is it, crow. Three… Two… One…

"Archers!" I heard a woman call. It startled me out of my concentration. Had more Stormcloaks come to try to rescue their jarl? Panicking, I looked back down at the town square, where I saw Lokir sprinting away from the carts with his hands still bound.

Unfortunately, my mind had already committed to throwing the rock at a target. In my panicked state, looking down and seeing the unexpected motion of the fleeing Nord, my inner warrior focused on him as the new target, and the rock went flying out of my hand before I realized what I was doing.

He screamed as it cracked against the back of his head. He collapsed to the ground on his stomach as a volley of arrows sailed through where his back would have been, had he still been running.

Oh, gods, did I kill him?

"Anyone else thinking about running?" the woman called. The soldiers turned their backs on the fallen Nord, and it occurred to me that they might have assumed the arrows had cut him down. Why would someone be up on the guard tower throwing rocks at escaping prisoners?

"Nice aim," the guard beside me commented.

I squealed in surprise, having forgotten he was still there. "Uh, yeah, I think I've found my true calling," I muttered.

I looked down at Lokir's body uncertainly. He couldn't be a Stormcloak, or at least he hadn't been fighting by Ulfric's side when he was captured. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Well, my parents told me if I broke something, I had to fix it. And I had spent a lot of my life fixing things I had broken.

I darted down the spiral staircase and found my way out of the tower. I shoved my way through the gawking townspeople and Thalmor surrounding the prisoners.

"Legate Rikke, this one's name isn't on the list," the soldier called. I glanced over to see the other unarmored Nord, the redhead, standing in front of the soldier.

"We caught him with the rebels," Legate Rikke said dismissively. "He goes on the chopping block with the rest of them."

I looked over at the Nord. He didn't look like one of the Stormcloaks, either. Surely Legate Rikke was being too harsh? I had never liked her. Maybe I could talk some sense into General Tullius.

One problem at a time, though. I squeezed through the crowd and darted over to Lokir's body.

"Hey, what are you doing?" a nearby soldier asked.

"Dead body cleanup," I said as confidently as I could. I walked up to Lokir like I had every right in the world to be there, crouched beside him and slung him up onto my shoulders. Growing up on a farm, I was used to carrying heavy loads.

And dropping them, but never mind that right now.

"Quiet!" I hissed as Lokir started to moan.

I pushed myself confidently to my feet with Lokir balanced across my shoulders and promptly lost my balance. I took several steps backwards as I tried to regain my balance and crashed into someone. One of the Thalmor, by the affronted note to his cry of surprise. I leaned forward and regained my balance as I listened to the sounds of the Altmer falling against some of his companions and knocking them over.

General Tullius is going to kill me, I groaned inwardly as I plodded back to the city gate.

"My name is Thorarin," I heard the redhead say as I walked away. "That man you saw me fighting with was a bandit wearing stolen Imperial armor. I'm not a Stormcloak."

As I had hoped, all of the guards had come inside to watch the execution. I ran over to a dense patch of brush and laid Lokir down in it. I called up Healing Hands and put my hands on the back of his head.

He looked up at me, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. "What happened? This isn't Sovngarde…"

"They thought you were dead, so I carried you outside Helgen's walls," I said, deciding not to explain why his head hurt. "I believe you're innocent of what they wanted to execute you for." I drew my dagger and cut his bonds, for once not making myself bleed in the process.

"Are you letting me go?"

"Yes, just… you know, don't make me regret it."

"Right. I was on my way to Hammerfell when they caught me. Guess I'll give it another try." He climbed to his feet. "You're not going to get in trouble for this?"

I shrugged. "My father and General Tullius go way back. He'll go easy on me if he finds out. Now I need to go see if I can get Tullius to spare that redhead."

"Right. Err… Thanks," he said before turning and running south.

I headed back through the gate. I could see the town square straight ahead, where a priestess was giving the prisoners their final blessing. The redhead, Thorarin, was still in line.

He wasn't wearing Stormcloak armor. Or any armor at all. How could they think he was with Ulfric's party? This wasn't right. The General Tullius my father had fought beside wouldn't look the other way while an innocent citizen was executed, would he? Besides, they were short-staffed at Helgen and could use some new recruits. Maybe he could wash dishes in my place.

A distant roar rumbled through the city. It didn't sound like a bear or sabercat or troll. I looked at the soldiers, who also were looking around uneasily. I turned around and scanned the countryside beyond the city gate, but saw nothing. Maybe I should go back up on the wall and look around…

No, I had to see if I could get that Nord spared first.

I started to turn away from the city gate, but something up in the air caught my eye and I stopped and looked up.

An enormous black dragon was plummeting toward us.

I looked up at it and my mind went blank. I knew I should get everyone's attention, but no words came to mind at first.

"Lizard!" I finally managed to shriek. It was the only word I could think of. I turned and ran for the town square, still looking up at the dragon.

"Jaydra?" I heard General Tullius call, both a question and a warning in his tone.

"Lizard!" I repeated, still staring at the diving dragon. I began flapping my arms frantically. "Lizard! Bat-lizard!" I shrieked as a second word finally surfaced.

Everyone looked up then, but it was too late to run for cover. The dragon landed heavily on top of the guard tower I had been on moments before, raining loose stones down on the town square.

A third word surfaced as the dragon leaned over the side of the tower, opening its mouth. "Cook!" I started screaming, shoving my way through the onlookers. I heard the crackling of fire as the dragon seemed to shout something and fire poured from its mouth.

I dove into the first doorway I came to as the heat of the fire rushed past me. It was one of the guard towers. Several other people came rushing in behind me.

"Lizard," I said softly to no one in particular, sinking down onto a pile of straw. "Big, big lizard…"

"A dragon," one of the men said in the same tone. "There's a dragon out there."

"Dragon," I said, focusing on the word, trying to snap myself out of it. Dragons were supposed to be extinct, my father always said, but there was a dragon out there destroying the town. Wherever they had gone, dragons had come back.

With that realization, my mind settled again. I didn't know what was going on, but we could get through this. Our ancestors had wiped the dragons out once. They could be killed.

"Hey, you have a dagger," someone beside me said. "Could you cut us loose?"

I was more likely to just cut them, but I took my dagger out and carefully cut the ropes binding his hands. He was a Stormcloak, but the Civil War didn't concern me right now.

"Do you know of any way out of here?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I got here less than an hour ago. I heard the city was built on top of a system of caves. Maybe if we could get to the keep…" I walked over to the doorway to see how likely we were to make it that far.

An Imperial soldier came barreling through the doorway. I tried to jump out of his way, but he caught his foot on my leg and went facefirst onto the floor.

"Is the path to the keep clear?" one of the soldiers asked him as if nothing had happened.

He groaned and rolled over. "A building just collapsed in front of this tower. I don't know if we can get by…" His eyes focused on the Stormcloak who had asked me about my dagger, and he snarled, "Ralof! You Traitor!"

"Hadvar!" Ralof snarled in surprise. "What do you mean I'm a traitor? You're the one who turned your back on your traditions and your neighbors on the whim of an Altmer!"

"Hey, I think that's the least of our worries right now," I interrupted.

"Right," Ralof grumbled. "Maybe there's another way out of here…" He rose and headed up the spiral staircase to the first-story window. "Hey, if we can jump to the inn from here, we can escape!"

The Stormcloaks poured up the stairs after him. Hadvar and I followed cautiously.

"I don't know about this…" Hadvar began.

"If we survive, we can worry about loyalty and betrayal," I interrupted.

The tower we were in was beside the town inn and a couple of houses. The dragon's attack had torn the roof off the inn and smashed the houses on either side. We were pinned inside the tower by walls of burning wreckage. But the second floor of the inn was exposed, with the roof and wall missing, and Helgen's cramped streets meant it wasn't far to jump. I watched the Stormcloaks leap across the gap and land safely on the inn's second floor, making it look easy. From there, they went down the stairs and out the door on the far side of the building, which was not blocked yet.

"Maybe you should go first," I told Hadvar, hanging back.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah. I have terrible luck."

He shrugged, squeezed through the narrow window and leaped across the gap, landing safely. Instead of escaping, he turned back to face me. "Come on! I'll catch you if you land wrong!"

I squeezed through the window and leaped across the gap, landing safely on the floor beside Hadvar.

The boards splintered as soon as my feet touched them and we both fell through to the bedroom below. We landed on the bed, but bounced off. Hadvar went flying through the room's open doorway, while I was flung into the wall.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Hadvar said from the next room.

"Ooh, my ribs," I moaned as I contemplated trying to stand up.

Hadvar came in and helped me to my feet. As we headed out of the room, we heard the dragon roaring almost right above us, and the far wall of the inn collapsed. The wall that had the door to safety on it.

There was a window on our left. I ran over to it. It was past the mound of burning rubble that had blocked us in the tower. The street beyond was relatively clear. We vaulted through the window and took off down the road.

A huge shadow passed over us. I kept running, refusing to look up. I could see the keep rising above the houses ahead. We were almost halfway there.

The dragon landed on the road in front of us. I almost lost my footing from the way it made the ground quake.

This is it, I thought as I came to a stop. It's going to eat me…

But although it was facing our direction, it wasn't looking at us. Its attention was focused on a figure crouching under an awning in front of the house right in front of us. It was the redheaded Nord, Thorarin, still bound.

"Dovahkiin," the dragon hissed at Thorarin. I had no idea what it meant, but the word was oddly clear to me. "Had I waited another moon, your people might have had a chance…"

I picked up a rock as big as my head and threw it at the dragon. One last stupid act in a life replete with stupid acts.

The dragon's head turned to face me. It looked somewhat surprised. Why would a human bother throwing a rock at a dragon as big as the inn?

When it looked at me, its surprise increased greatly. "Dovahkiin?" it hissed again, this time sounding confused. Then it laughed. "How good of you to come here today, dovahkiin. Now nothing will stand in my way."

He had barely finished speaking when his head darted forward like a snake. I leaped to one side, slamming into the front of the house beside me. The dragon's head smashed into the wall to one side of me.

With a splintering crack, half of the front of the house collapsed onto the dragon's head. With a roar of pain and surprise, it recoiled, taking a few startled steps back. In the cramped city street, it slammed its hip against the front of another house, which collapsed on the dragon's back.

"Run!" I shouted, grabbing Hadvar by the wrist where he was cowering beside me. There were only two places to go: Back to the burning inn or right past the angry dragon.

Thorarin joined us as we darted past. The dragon had just crawled out from under the pile of rubble. It tried to spin around as we ran by, but its tail struck another house, which collapsed onto the dragon's lower back and tail.

I looked back over my shoulder at the dragon as we ran. It flailed around and gave a mighty heave to pull itself out from under the latest collapsed house. It pulled free suddenly, fasted than it expected, and careened into a house on the other side of the street. I momentarily lost sight of it in the cascade of dust and debris as yet another house collapsed on it.

Maybe if you hadn't smashed up all those houses and weakened them structurally, they wouldn't fall on you so easily, I thought triumphantly.

Or had I cursed the houses with my presence? Maybe one of them was supposed to fall on me…

My thoughts were put on hold as I caught my foot on a chunk of rock in the road and went facefirst onto the ground.. I stayed there for a moment, stunned from the impact With all the screaming and crashing, Thorarin and Hadvar didn't hear me and kept running.

Well, no matter. The keep was right in front of us…

With a rumbling crash, the dragon broke free of the collapsed house. It seemed a little dazed, but focused again when it saw me.

I leaped to my feet and started running. Up ahead, Thorarin and Hadvar had reached the keep, but to my dismay, Hadvar was shouting and beating on the door. Apparently it had been barred from the inside to keep the dragon out.

"Imperial! Do you have any lockpicks?" I heard Ralof call. He was looking around the left side of the keep at Hadvar. He must have found a locked door over there.

Hadvar and Thorarin ran over to him. They looked back at me, and I waved them on, so they ran around the side of the keep.

The dragon was closing on me. I focused my attention on the stone building ahead. I slowed as I neared the steps, acting like I was out of breath. I slowly turned to face the oncoming dragon, doing my best to look resigned to my fate.

He came charging at me, his mouth open, ready to bite me in half. At the last instant, I darted to the side of the keep where the others had disappeared, counting on the enormous dragon not being able to make sharp turns.

As it turned out, I was right. He skidded and tried to turn to follow me, but lost his balance and rolled heavily into the front of the keep. The walls shuddered and large chunks or rock broke off the top of the wall and rained down on the dragon.

The dragon roared one last time, a sound replete with anger, pain and frustration. It heaved itself to its feet unsteadily, lurched away from the keep and leaped ungracefully into the air. It wobbled as it rose into the air, looking like it was drunk.

I watched the sky in silence for a few moments, but the dragon didn't return. Finally I breathed a sigh of relief and went to find Hadvar and Thorarin.

They were standing beside a side door into the keep, along with Ralof and the other Stormcloaks from the tower. Thorarin had finally freed his hands, probably on one of the sharp chunks of rock strewn everywhere.

"I think it's gone," I said wearily.

"Don't relax just yet," Hadvar said. "Now we have to start cleaning up." He looked over at Thorarin and the Stormcloaks. "You should have run while you had the chance. This will have done nothing to cool the general's temper."

"Oh, gods, haven't enough people died here today?" I almost snarled. "They tried to help us escape the tower. Doesn't that count for something?"

Hadvar shook his head sadly. "Not much we can do for them. This door's locked and we're out of lockpicks."

"Lockpicks? You're all going to lie down and die because there are no lockpicks?" I gritted my teeth and marched up to the door. "Maybe it's not locked, maybe it's just jammed." I grabbed the doorknob and gave it an angry twist.

The doorknob broke off in my hands.

There was a moment of awed silence, then Ralof ran over to the door and began fiddling with it. A few seconds later, I heard the other half of the doorknob fall off inside, and Ralof pushed the door open.

"Go, before anyone sees us," Hadvar hissed. "I hope you realize I'm endangering my life by looking the other way."

Ralof nodded and waved the other soldiers through the door. "And you have your precious Thalmor to thank for that." He turned to me. "Well, you certainly have our thanks, miss…"

"Jaydra," I sighed, "clumsiest, unluckiest Redguard there ever was. They say I break everything I touch, and they're usually right."

Thorarin paused in the doorway and looked back at me. "From where I'm standing, that looks like quite a handy curse."

"Not when you have to set the dinner table, it isn't," I said through my teeth as I watched him go.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've wanted to write a story like this for most of my life, a story about a ditzy hero who breaks everything yet always ends up victorious. I like to watch serious fight scenes in movies and try to imagine humorous ways the hero could screw something up and still end up winning, or ways they could win with the least amount of violence. I also like making people laugh, but unfortunately my relatives can't stand me and just want me to shut up.

I often find myself coming up with humorous ways I could finish some Skyrim quests. I wanted to include some of them in my other story, but it deals with a Khajiit slowly coming to terms with her inner cold-blooded thrill-killer. While Ra'wati is a quirky character, most of the things I came up with were just too silly for her to do if I wanted to stick with the intended dark atmosphere. Yet I still liked the ideas enough to write them, and so this story was born.

Currently there's no reason why Jaydra is so clumsy and unlucky. It's an exaggeration of my own clumsiness and terrible luck. There weren't many opportunities to show how clumsy she is (I know, show, don't tell), but the next few chapters should fix that.

The part where Jaydra forgets most of her vocabulary and can't conjugate words is inspired by something that happened to one of my teenage nephews. He was riding a skateboard without any protective gear, holding onto a rope tied to the back of a friend's bicycle. They were going pretty fast, and his friend suddenly went around a corner. My nephew panicked as he thought he was going to fall off his skateboard and wanted to shout to his friend to stop, but he was so scared that he couldn't remember how to say "stop" or "slow down." The only phrase that came to his mind was "no pull," which he started yelling frantically. His friend was quite confused.

Helgen's layout was tweaked for story purposes. I have very poor vision to start with and find it really hard to see what's going on through all the flames and such when Alduin is attacking Helgen, so I couldn't walk my character around to double-check where certain events take place like I usually do.

Also, I spared Lokir again. I've gotten a bit too attached to him to let him die here. He won't be sticking around this time, though. We'll just assume he made it to Hammerfell and lived happily ever after.

In closing, if anyone's reading this, I hope this story makes you laugh.