Skyrim: With Friends Like These

by Punk Season

Five years after vanquishing Alduin, The Last Dragonborn takes it upon himself to tutor a group of young adventurers, all coming from a variety of backgrounds, with their own motivations and interests, this story will hopefully grow to be pretty long, but might go a while between updates, feedback is much appreciated, both in regards to my writing but also my characters, and lore.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Credit for the song 'Tura Lu' belongs to Bollox, I simply included the song because i believed it fit the story. I strongly encourage all of you to check out the song and show it some love, maybe even listen to it during it's part of the chapter.

A tavern full of conversation suddenly drew to silence as the patrons heard the plinking's of a lute, and there, sitting amongst the rafters, was Aedelvas Cretien, his lute in hand, as he played and hummed along, soon his foot stamped against the rafters to give tempo, and soon the ground itself seemed to quake around the Inn with all the patrons, waitress's, and even the barkeep and passing guards stomping along, when amongst the music, Aedelvas's voice broke through, and thus he sang:

"There's a man in a world of pain,
Can you hear it in the air?
And the words he breathes?
Just a man nothing more, nothing less,
But none the less lived his life with every drop he bleeds.

But let me take you on a journey,
Times of torment, times of pain,
Where the history it rolls,
The clocks they never change,
He's lived his life the best he can,
Which always goes to show:
You and I were not one and the same!"

The whole of the tavern joined for the chorus:

"Tura' lu, Tura' lu, Tura' lu a lu a lu!
Tura' lu, Tura' lu a li!
Tura' li, Tura' li, Tura' li li li li li!
Tura' li, Tura' li li li!"

And just as quickly, it was just Aedelvas again:

"Marching through this world,
As the ambers floats around his weary head,
Somethings got to give cause every man has got to live,
So, wipe your head before you drop and give!

But let me take you on a journey,
Times of torment, times of pain,
Where the history it rolls,
The clocks they never change,
He's lived his life the best he can,
Which always goes to show,
You and i were not one and the same!"

Once again, the chorus erupted, amongst cheers.

"Tura' lu, Tura' lu, Tura' lu a lu a lu!
Tura' lu, Tura' lu a li!
Tura' li, Tura' li, Tura' li li li li li!
Tura' li, Tura' li li li!"

The tavern continued to sing along.

"Carry on your way!
Carry on your way!
Carry on your way!
Carry on your waaay!"

Suddenly, the tavern was silent, not even Aedelvas's lute made a sound, and from the silence Aedelvas's voice shone through, in somber tone:

"There's a man in a world of pain,
Can you hear it in the air?
And the words he sings?
He's just a man nothing more, nothing less
But none the less lives his life with every drop he bleeds-."

All at once the tavern erupted in cheers, laughter and singing, amidst the stomping of feet, banging of tables, and downing of mead:

"Tura' lu, Tura' lu, Tura' lu a lu a lu!
Tura' lu, Tura' lu a li!
Tura' li, Tura' li, Tura' li li li li li!
Tura' li, Tura' li li li!

Tura' lu, Tura' lu, Tura' lu a lu a lu!
Tura' lu, Tura' lu a li!
Tura' li, Tura' li, Tura' li li li li li!
Tura' li, Tura' li li li!"

With that, many a gracious patron left a donation in his tankard, and he continued to strum along absently. As the night grew late, the Winking Skeever's patronage waned. Until there were only a few people left in the building. With that, Aedelvas collected his tidy sum of coin, at approached the bar. He noticed a missive there, left behind surely by some earlier patron, it had been a busy night. He read the missive, it told of an academy in Helgen, one for aspiring adventurers, but it was the Academies Curate that interested him, it was the great Ysmir Teldor! Greatest adventurer of the Fourth Era, Hero of Skyrim, Saviour of Tamriel, The Last Dragonborn, Arch-Mage of Winterhold, Thane of The Nine Holds, Peacemaker, Tamer of Dragons, Destroyer of Clan Volkihar, Slayer Of Miraak, and a thousand other titles none yet knew! The prospect of learning under Teldor, himself a bard, among his numerous other accomplishments, would not only grant him experience and renown, but it might also afford him the opportunity to record all the feats of the legendary figure, even those that would never be known to the public, propelling him to legendary status amongst bardic circles. Furthermore, there were many across Skyrim who believed that the when the Moot of Jarls next convened, they would elect him as Skyrim's next High King, and being the High King's scribe could be very prosperous for him. Regardless, his course was clear, he needed to make his way to Helgen.