*All credit to Bethesda Softworks*
Bringing the axe down on the log, I wipe the sweat from my brow before adding the pieces to the pile next to me. I've been chopping wood for the Bannered Mare for the past week, trying to come to terms with what I learnt at High Hrothgar. How could I be such a person? Why would I do that sort of thing? I can remember every decision that brought me to that… organisation, but…
Lydia had visited the second day after my return, curious as to what had happened and why I hadn't retrieved her. Loathe to explain in detail, I merely expressed my wish to travel alone for a while. After telling me that she's always there if I need to talk and I know where she is, she returned to Dragonsreach, leaving me with the axe and the logs.
The sun set over the city walls a good couple of hours ago. I take the chunks of firewood into the inn, dropping them on the now rather large pile next to the fire and accept my payment from Hulda. Leaving the inn, meaning to chop another bagful before heading to bed, I notice a commotion going on at the gate. Running down the road, I find the gate guards fighting a small group of vampires that somehow made it past the guards outside without being noticed.
Drawing my Dwarven blade, I add my efforts to those of the guards, and soon the trio of bloodsuckers lie on the cobbles. Making my way back to the inn, I come to a decision. Saving the world from Alduin was only part of my redemption, and even then I'm not sure it would count, seeing as I had no memory of what I was redeeming myself for. Solving the latest crisis would make up the next part.
Unfolding my map in my rented room, I find the little annotation I'd made when I first heard about the Dawnguard. The little cross, almost hidden on the edge of the Rift, had smudged slightly when I'd folded the parchment, but I can still tell where the fort is supposed to be. Tucking the map back into my bag, I settle down and soon doze off.
The next morning, I am back to my old ways of waking before the sun. Leaving the inn, I follow the road, past the blood-stained stones and through the great gates. I haven't travelled far down the road – I haven't even passed the stables yet – when a courier stops me.
"I've been looking for you." He cries the familiar greeting. I swear they all follow a script. "Got something I'm supposed to deliver – your hands only. Let's see here… there's a new museum opening in Dawnstar. I've been told to tell everyone about the free admission. Looks like that's it. Got to go." After handing over the note, he jogs off up the road to the city.
Unfolding the slightly crumpled parchment, I read the contents as I wander down the road.
Silus Vesuius Presents: The Museum of the Mythic Dawn. A History of the Cult that Toppled the Septim Dynasty. Inside of his very own home in the great capital of the Pale, Dawnstar. Free and open to all citizens of Skyrim.
Huh. Wondering what Cousin would have thought of this, I cross the bridge and head up the road around the Throat of the World. As I near Valtheim, the bandits seem to take a dislike to my presence, and immediately attack me. At least it's a change from attempting to swindle me.
As the third bandit falls before me, scorched from my Fire Breath, I can see what attracted me to my previous lifestyle. There is a certain satisfaction in finishing off an opponent. But that must be the dragon part of me talking.
Once all the bandits lie dead and looted, I mine a little of the iron vein near the far tower, then return to the road. Using the cook-pot in front of the door to the tower, I create a bowl of soup to sip on the way down the road.
Dodging a bear that is bathing in the river and taking much offense at my passing, I tuck the empty bowl into my bag before mining another ore vein for the iron it holds. These veins are very shallow indeed – none of the ones I've found so far have yielded more than three chunks of ore each before being mined out.
A short way further on, a wolf and a spider join forces in an attempt to stop me, neither of them to much avail. A little way down the road, I jog past an imperial prisoner convoy, which must have passed the pair of creatures not long before I met them, making me wonder how they were not attacked themselves. Leaving the soldiers shouting at me about my interfering in Imperial business, I ignore them as I cross the bridge and follow the road around the bends in the cliff. As I turn a twist in the road, leading further up the cliff face, a bear leaps at me out of nowhere, thankfully misjudging the distance – and the drop – and thumping to the ground behind me. This, of course, means it takes me a little less effort to slay the beast.
Further on up the road, I spot a sabre cat lounging right across the cobbles. Crouching down behind a thin bush, I nock an arrow, and loose it towards the creature's striped hide. This merely seems to startle the beast, but my next arrow is all it takes to kill it. I don't get the chance to retrieve my arrows though, as the corpse slides down the slope, picking up speed as it goes. I shrug and continue up the hill, encountering a pair of massive spiders at a place where the slope flattens out for a short distance. Can I not travel a few feet without something wanting to kill me?
"Fus Ro Dah!" I send the pair flailing over the edge of the cliff to a rocky death below. Behind me, the wind's caress of the rocky face causes a hollow echo, and turning I find I stand in front of a cave. Curiously, I draw my bow and sneak inside.
The first room of the cave is a deep hole, with water at the bottom and a dead elk surrounded by skeevers floating in it. The skeevers somehow notice me at the top of the hole, and rush up the ramp around the edge of the hole. Three shots later, three dead skeevers gather at the bottom of the ramp.
The rest of the cave is occupied by a coven of witches, with a room full of spiders in one part. Three-quarters of the way through the caves, I find a cage in which is locked a spriggan, guarded by a witch and a hagraven. After defeating the hagraven and her human apprentice, I loot the room then, hoping against hope, unlock the cage.
Instead of attacking me, like I expected, the forest guardian lopes out of the room through the next corridor. Following her, I find that her next obstacle in her escape from the caves is a grate. Pulling the chain to open it, I turn away from the exit and instead loot the barrels in the room, giving her a head start. Next to an alchemy table, there is a chest in which reside a couple of potions, some gold and a strange crystalline orb. As soon as the ball touches the skin of my hands, a female voice resounds through the room.
"A new hand touches the beacon." It says. "Listen. Hear me and obey! A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. Return my beacon to Mount Kilkreath, and I will make you the instrument of my cleansing light." The voice fades, and I swap the beacon for my map.
Using the lab as a table, I find Mount Kilkreath and notice that there is a shrine to Meridia there. I'd guessed as much from what the voice had said – Meridia is the Daedric Prince of life and light. Replacing my map in its pocket in my satchel, I leave the cave.
Obviously, spriggans are very fast runners, as there is no sign of the one I saved anywhere along the road. Following the road in my original direction, I soon come across a man slumped among scattered sacks and household goods.
"Are they gone?" he asks me as I approach.
"Are you ok?" I ask in response – he's sat at the top of a hill, there's no way he wouldn't know if they were gone or not.
"Bandits attacked and ransacked my cart. Can you help me?"
"What can I do?"
"My camp is nearby in the ruins of Nilheim. Get me there safely and you'll be rewarded." That sounds a little iffy – what sort of person camps in ruins? I gesture to him to lead the way, then behind him silently draw my sword.
He leads the way across the bridge behind him.
"It's just across the bridge and up that hill." He says. A little further on, he says: "We're close now, I can see the camp." As we reach the bottom of a couple of steps, He turns, and I quickly hide my sword behind me.
"Wait here." The man says. "I'll be right back with your reward." He jogs towards the ruined tower a little way ahead, then draws a bow and quiver out from behind a rock.
"Looks like we've got ourselves another fool!" He cries to the other occupants of the camp. I was right to be suspicious. I ready myself for battle, and quite handily the bandits have all grouped together to charge me.
"Fus Ro Dah!" I Shout, sending them all flying backwards, bouncing off of each other. A small part of me – the part of the old me that remains – wants to laugh. Instead, I rush towards the con man and hack away at him, not giving him much of a chance to aim straight. Wondering why he doesn't put the bow away and draw his dagger like all the other bowmen I've faced, I slay him as the rest of the bandits, who have finally recovered from their little tumble, again charge at me.
A few minutes of hack and slash later, the bandit gang lies dead with its leader, their bodies and camp looted of all valuables; the ore vein at the bottom of the hill near the lake depleted of iron. I return to the road and continue my journey, following the sign posts for Riften. Across another bridge, and a lone wolf launches its hairy hide at me, teeth bared and giving me an easy strike straight into its skull. Silly creature didn't even get the chance to yelp.
Despite having an excellent view of my prowess with a blade, a thief dashes across the bridge and attempts to rob me. I know from past experience I won't be able to talk myself out of this, so instead I merely inform her of my limited patience. Ignoring the threat, as I knew she would, the thief attempts to slaughter me for my riches, and gets killed in the attempt.
I amaze myself regularly at the short amount of notice I pay in battle these days.
A short distance down the road, a bear takes offense at my existence, but this time I have a trio of Stormcloaks to help with my fight for survival. As I hack away with my recently recharged blade, they pepper the beast's hide with arrows, which I retrieve when the creature is dead. The Stormcloaks don't seem that interested in having their arrows back – they're already continuing their own journey – so I add them to my quiver instead.
A little while later, I realise I've taken a wrong turning, so I follow the road back to the last intersection and take the turning instead. Causing me to run into an assassin. Sigh.
While the lizard is failing in her task, a pair of wolves join the fight – on the assassin's side, of course. Leaving the Argonian in a pool of her own blood, I quickly deal with the wolves then retrieve all the valuable items from their corpses – how the hell did a wolf get an amethyst stuck in its teeth?
Oh, by the Nine, now a troll is limbering up for a fight. Using Fire Breath to recoil it for the time it takes me to reach the ugly brute, I use the momentum of my charge to add extra oomph to my first attack. After a couple of swipes with my blade, the troll is recovered enough to attempt attacks of its own, which I dodge nimbly before Shouting again. Soon, the troll is as dead as the wolves behind me, and I continue along the road between the orange-leafed trees of the Rift.
Two more wolves and a troll later, I notice a disturbance going on outside a wooden-fenced compound. Closing the distance, I find the Orcs of the stronghold fighting furiously against a giant, which is very far from home, it seems. Joining the fight, I send the giant toppling to the ground with Unrelenting Force, then launch arrow after arrow into its thick skin, while the last remaining live Orc who is fighting sends shards of ice at it. Soon, the great man-like creature thuds to the ground dead, and I approach the woman who I assume to be the shaman of the tribe.
"What's going on here?" I ask.
"Please, our tribe suffers, and we need help." She responds. "Our chief, Yamarz, was once a strong and proud warrior. Now he is stricken, cursed. He is weak, and so our tribe is weak. The giants sense this, and intrude on our territory. Now they assault our very home. Yamarz refuses help, but I sense that you may be just what we need."
"What can I do?"
"Yamarz has demanded we stay inside the walls." The shaman explains. "We cannot leave. I must petition Malacath for relief. This curse must be lifted, but I cannot travel to Malacath's shrine. The ritual must be done here, and I do not have the materials I need. I beg of you, can you bring me troll fat and a daedra heart? I have no wish to depend on a stranger, but I have no choice."
"If I cannot find you when I return, who do I ask for?" I query.
"Atub. Please hurry; we are counting on you." She replies simply, then disappears from the watchtower upon which she stood.
Returning to the road, I continue along towards Riften. As the walls of the city appear through the trees, two more wolves attack me, both of which I make short work before jogging through the back gate into the city.
I'm already exhausted from my journey, so I head straight for the inn and rent the room.