Follower of the Dragonborn
Ren laid in his bed, reading a book on how destruction magic should not be considered an art form when a pounding came from the doors that lead into The Hall of Countenance. He lazily looked up from his book, not amused by the rudeness of the distraction. It was nightfall on the second Fridas of Rain's Hand and one of the snowiest nights so far. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be out on such a night. As if to prove his point, thunder crashed over head and shook the old stones of The Hall. Faralda came out of her room; a robe wrapped around her small body, and looked through the small glass eyehole in the door.
"Who is it?" She demanded, yelling through the door. There was some slight shuffling and then a muffled voice came from the other side.
"I'm looking for Mossiri. I think his it's Kyren Mossiri," The voice sounded, undoubtedly, male for it was unmistakably too low to be female. Ren lowered his book and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. The mysterious man had been looking for him. Why? Azura knows. Faralda turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow and stepping out of the way. The others had begun to shuffle to the archways of their rooms, watching as the scene slowly unfolded. Ren made his way towards the door, calling out to the man on the other side.
"This is he. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" He quietly directed Faralda away, leaning into the eye hole to look out. On the outside there stood a man with incredible physic and an aura of power surrounding him. His heavy northern accent made Ren think he was a Nord, but he couldn't see his facial features from under his hood, nor could he see the color of his skin.
"I am Hyland," He looked up at the dark sky curiously. "Also known as the Dragonborn. I have important business to discuss with you." He shuffled his feet, sounding a bit board. "Please let me in, I'm freezing." He was not a Nord. They have a better relationship to this cold land they call home. Ren stepped back from the door and looked around at everyone staring at him. He did not like being the center of attention, preferring his quiet corner, reading and being ignored. But this was the Dragonborn, or so the man claimed. He ran a hand over his short beard in thought. If he were truly the Dragonborn, he would ruthless, be able to shout a man apart, shout the door down, breathe fire, but he had done of this. He looked at all of his colleagues faces, trying to find support, but they all looked annoyed by their rude awakening. He didn't trust the man outside of the door, but he didn't feel as though the man meant him harm. He turned back to the door and slid his hand over the rune that was etched into the door, unlocking it and letting it swing open slowly by itself.
"Sir Dragonborn," Ren dipped his head in greeting and gestured with his hand towards his room as an invitation. "Please, join me in my quarters for some nice hot tea." He turned gracefully on his heels and heading back towards the room where his book lay open on his bed, the fading Magelight hanging just above it. He grabbed a pot and poured some water into it, lighting a small flame in his hand and holding the pot over the flame, letting the water boil. The Dragonborn sat down in a chair that leaned against the wall, making it creak a little under his weight. He looked smaller now, not as bulky and muscular as he looked through the eyehole, but what was strange was his outfit. He had a hood which still covered his face, leather gauntlets and leather boots, but his chest and legs were covered by golden elven armor. "What can I do you for, Sir?"
"I have an important request," He stared at Ren's flaming hand. "It comes from the Thieves Guild." The water in the pot began to bubble vigorously. Ren shook out his hand like a match and the fire went out. He grabbed two tankards and set them on the table, carefully filling both of them with the hot water. Once bother tankards were full, he plucked several dried elf's ears from a hanging bundle and put them in two small mesh-like bags, tying a string around each of the openings. He began crushing the leaves through the bags and then placed them inside the tankards, letting them soak into the water. He placed a small jar of honey on the table and sat in the chair that was opposite of the Dragonborn.
"What sort of request?" He dipped his leaf bag in and out of the water, helping it steep.
"May we have a more private area to speak of the terms? This hall seems very… open." The Dragonborn looked towards the arch way and rested his hand on his knee. Ren waved his hand quickly and the purple outline of an invisible door appeared in the archway to his room.
"No one can see or hear us. Now, what is it they ask of me?" He took a scoop of the honey and mixed it into his tea, staring at the man before him with a small curiosity. The man pulled back his hood and rubbed his hands together. Ren was surprised when he saw pointed ears spring out from under his wild brown hair. He was not a man, but an elf! How odd that the Dragonborn not be a Nord, he thought to himself. His wolf like eyes and fawn like face told him that he was a Wood Elf, but something about the roundness of his face and the bulkiness of his body threw off Ren's accusations.
"I am the new leader of the Thieves Guild since the former had a bad run in," The Dragonborn looked down and toyed with the bag in his tea, lifting the tankard and sipping it. His face of disgust was priceless. What a lie he was telling, but Ren let him continue without letting his curiosity push the conversation a different direction.
"That is unfortunate," He sipped his tea, letting the sweetness of the honey make his tongue feel heavy and his body warm.
"And, as of late, I have been looking for new recruits," He took another hesitant sip of his tea. "I have been granted the knowledge that you have mastered illusion and alteration spells, am I correct?" Ren couldn't help the small smile that began to creep into the corners of his mouth.
"You are correct." They sat quiet for a moment as he watched the Dragonborn pick his words carefully, but he knew what was going to be asked, and he knew what the answer would be. There was no possibility for him to leave The College at this point. After the incident with the disappearing students and the professor that went mad, his time being there was crucial to The Colleges cause: to train students to handle magic with love and care, not recklessness and disuse.
"It is of interest to the guild that we have an experienced mage on our side," He let the question ring in the air for a moment, as if to make it seem like he was pondering the question, mulling over his options.
"I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline. The College is in need of me, and I am not able to give up my duties here as an associate," He set his now empty tankard on the table, lacing his fingers in front of himself, his hands resting behind the tankard.
The Wood Elf's next words sent a small shock through the mages body. "Your superior, the Arch-Mage has given me permission to take you, saying that you were no longer needed here and that he can find a replacement effortlessly." How harsh his words were on Ren's ears made him want to throw the table at him. How could the Arch-Mage, of all elves, dismiss him so easily? He had done nothing wrong, had taught his students effectively and efficiently, and even began side projects to better the warding on the institute to help keep it safe. Of all the years he had been there, working his way to the top. How he is the youngest professor to ever delve into Saarthal with students and to come out unscathed. He was nearly thirty now, rather young for a Dark Elf, but that didn't change the time and effort he had poured into The College.
"I don't believe this. Your words are untrue. I doubt you're credibility of being the true Dragonborn!" He stood up and slashed his hand through the air, the invisible door disappearing. "I want you out."
"Please, speak with your superior," The Wood Elf stood up, quietly making his way to the door. "I will be at the inn in Winterhold for a few more days. Please, give this offer some thought. You are still young. We could use you." With that, the elf walked out of the door. Ren furiously slid his hand across the door to lock it, making a booming sound that echoed through The Hall. Faralda was sitting in her archway, watching him.
"What was that all about?"
"I must speak with the Arch-Mage tomorrow." Ren headed back to his room and put up his invisible door again, brightening his Magelight and shoving his nose back into his book.
In the morning, Ren pushed his food around as his colleagues all ate and chattered about college happenings. He was furious. He couldn't believe that the Arch-Mage could say such thing about him even after giving him the highest praises during the student acceptance inauguration. Nothing was calming his nerves. He needed to go speak with the Aren immediately. Ren took a couple bites of the small tart the maid had given him as not to seem disinterested and then stood up from his spot, bidding his friends a good morning and heading off to find the Arch-Mage.
When Ren finally found the Arch-Mage sitting in the main hall, looking out the window at the frozen tundra beyond, he still hadn't decided what he was going to say exactly. He took a deep breath and approached him.
"I heard about your visitor last night," The Arch-Mage had eyes and ears all over The College, meaning he knew all that was happening within the grounds.
"Yes, a Wood Elf claiming to be the Dragonborn-"Before he could finish, the Arch-Mage turned to face him.
"I know because he came to me yesterday afternoon, asking for your assistance," He paused for a moment, watching as horror struck Ren's face.
"So you really said all those things," He shook his head in disbelief.
"What is it that I have said that would offend you, friend?" His confusion only made Ren's fear become more sickening.
"That you didn't need me here, that you could easily find my replacement, that I'm useless," He waved his hands in the air, exclaiming the preposterous things that the elf had told him. But, it only made the Arch-Mage laugh.
"Dear boy, I have been the one to teach you and watch you prosper under my college. You helped me obtain this honor of Arch-Mage even though we both knew you were just as good a candidate as I," He wrapped his arm around Ren's shoulders leading him as they walked around the sides of the round hall. "The elf that came to you, he was from the Thieves Guild, was he not?" Ren nodded and held his wrist behind his back, thinking of the things the elf had said.
"He did say that, yes, "Aren smiled and patted him on the back.
"He was using his sharp words to cut you loose from The College, my boy. He tried to persuade you that I said such things because he needs you. It is obvious to me," He released Ren and turned to stand in front of him. "It has come to my attention that the Thieves guild is on its feet again and I would very much prefer that we are on their good side rather than against them. Now, I would never in an era send over such a good man to such a vile faction if it weren't that we, as a college, aren't doing as well either." He sighed and looked at the fountain of energy in the middle of the hall, watching as a few students practiced a Sparks spell.
"What do you mean?" Ren knew that The College was going through a bit of a rough patch, but didn't realize that it was as big of a concern to the Arch-Mage as it was.
"We have been accepting fewer and fewer students each inauguration. Fewer and fewer people are turning to magic now that the Nords are in their damned war," He shook his head and stared at the floor. Ren felt a small part of him ache at the thought of The College going downhill so quickly.
"So you are purposing that we have an agent in between the Thieves Guild and The College. You're expecting to gain profit from this?" Aren smiled and chuckled to himself.
"Precisely. What better man than you? You are trained in diplomatic actions and a master of the magika they need," Ren looked towards the thin window; he touched the frost that was lining the outsides of the glass, just leaving enough visual space to see the abyss that lay beyond The College.
"That is what it seems, isn't it," He started into the white of the land for a while, quietly weighing his options. He couldn't let The College fall to its knees like this. This had been his home since he was a small boy. He loved it as if it were his mother. Knowing of its demise sickened him. "I shall go see the elf tonight and begin preparation to journey towards Riften."
Aren slapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you can see it as it is."
. . .
Ren made his way quickly across The College's nearly impassable bridge towards Winterhold. As he neared the stairs to the hold, he heard some yelling coming from a little ways away.
"Do ya think I don't know thieves armor when I see it?!"
"I was simply picking up the statue to observe it more closely, I swear!"
"And ya were just polishing it by putting it into yer sack, I'm sure!"
"I wasn't stealing it! I'm not a thief!"
Ren made his way towards the inn where he saw the Dragonborn go flying butt first down the stairs to the inns porch. The Dragonborn stood up and dusted the dirty snow off of his armor, turning and seeing Ren.
"Oh good! I'm sure you can tell him that I was only looking at his damn statue of Dibella and that I'm not a thief," He grabbed Ren by his mage robe and presented him to the inn owner, Dagur, whom Ren knew well.
"Kyren, I haven't seen you in near 'bout a year now, how have yer fancy college studies been takin' ya?" Dagur put his hands on his hips and smiled at him.
"Just the same as last year, almost. It's good to see you," He looked over at the Dragonborn, whose real name had escaped him, and shrugged. "This elf is alright, Dagur, I'll take him off your hands." He smiled up at the inn owner and gently pried the Dragonborn's fingers from his robes.
"Thanks, I guess," He put his hands on his hips and stared at Dagur while he wiped his hands angrily on his rag and headed back into the inn. "So, have you talked to your Arch-guy?" He smiled, squinting one of his eyes as if looking into the sun.
"It'll do you best not to spread such horrible lies about people you know nothing about," Ren commented.
"But it made you go see him, didn't it? If it weren't for that, you might not have actually gone and seen your Arch-guy in the first place. I could see your answer before I even asked the question," The elf sighed and shook his head, looking at his wet leather boots.
"Well, played. But a loose tongues gets caught in traps," Ren looked pointedly at him. The Dragonborn looked up at the sky again, almost seeming to space out.
"Have you come with good news, then?" He kept looking at the sky and then bent backwards to stretch his back, the feather-like metal scales on his armor clicking a bit as they slid together.
"If deciding that I will become an ambassador for The College of Winterhold at the Thieves Guild is good news, then yes." He looked at Ren and beamed with a smile as wide as Tamriel and showed as many teeth as a crocodile.
"Awesome! We can head out tonight!" He turned to head into the inn but Ren grabbed him by the shoulder.
"We can leave tomorrow morning instead. I need a good night's sleep before I go adventuring to Riften," The Dragonborn shook his head and crossed his arms.
"You mages and your need for sleep," He sighed, "Besides, we're stopping off at Windhelm before. I have one more person I need to pass off some information to." Ren raised one of his eyebrows. Windhelm was well known for its nasty reputation for disliking Dark Elves.
"I don't think me accompanying you to Windhelm is of the smartest ideas," Ren said.
The Dragonborn threw his arms up and then pointed to his own face. "I'm an elf, too. It's not just dark elves they dislike, trust me." The two said their goodbyes and Ren headed back towards The College, making a mental note of which books he was going to bring with him.