Yo, Listen. I love the idea for this story, and if I decide to continue any of my stories, it will be either this, or Blacksmith of Legends. I have already written about 400 words for Chapter two of Blacksmith, but I don't know if I will write more of it. Oh well, only time will tell. As I have said with all of my previous stories, You have my permission to use this idea as a base for your own, but please put my name in the summary so I can find it easier as I will read them all. Thank you!]
Bjorn the Beast walked up towards the throat of the world with a frown on his face. It has been nearly six months since he had seen his friend Paarthurnax, and he was happy to visit him yet this meeting struck him as odd. He had never been summoned by the ancient dragon before, only visited and that felt odd.
As Bjorn neared the peak of the mountain, he saw something no one else had ever seen, nor ever would see. The full council of rulers.
There was Paarthurnax and Odahviing representing the dragons, along side every Aedra and Daedric prince. Full council.
"Dovahkiin, old friend. We have a small issue we request your judgment upon" Paarthurnax spoke slowly, as he usually did (I'm sorry, but I will not be writing his bloody half dragon half human talking. I'm sorry, I love to read it, but no, I'm not writing it.) "Between the twenty eight of us, we have come to fifteen different decisions. Before we tell any of them to you, we will first tell you the issue." The ancient dragon finished.
Bjorn, still in a large state of shock, just nodded his head and sat down in the snow while his eyes were the size of dinner plates.
Akatosh spoke to his last son next. "My son, there is a slight issue on the other side of Mundus. You see, when the men began to slay the dragons, they killed the mothers first, to stop the dragons from reproducing. One group of the Nords who were too scared to fight, stole three dozen of the dragon eggs that had not been hatched yet, and sailed to the other side of the world. Eventually, they hatched those eggs and forged a freehold that became called Valyria. After near two thousand years, the Doom of Valyria happened and only one family and their dragons survived. They were named the Targaryen family. The last three members of this family, a brother and two sisters named Aegon, Nymeria and Rhaenys, took flight on their dragons and conquered Westeros and forged the seven kingdoms and a dynasty that lasted three hundred years. The family was riddled with incest, as they wished to keep their 'Dragon Blood' pure, untainted and married within the family. The incest became such a problem where more than half of the family members were insane, mad, paranoid and powerhungry. One of these men became king and a war began, and the dynasty was defeated. Now, there are but three members left, one of which is an old man who devoted his life to helping people, and two children of the mad man. His son is riddled with the same madness as his father, but his younger sister is not. She has just come into possession of three dragon eggs, and they are soon to hatch. We are trying to decide what to do with this issue."
Everyone else atop the mountain began yelling again, and this continued until Paarthurnax roared as loud as he could, silencing everyone else.
"Dovahkiin, if the hatchlings were to age without discipline, they would grow with their desire for subjugation and conquest allowed. We are unsure of what to do." Paarthurnax spoke gravely.
Bjorn was shocked at the stupidity of the Daedra and Aedra. "Uh, this will sound rather rude so please don't turn me into a smear on the snow, but are you all stupid? This has a very simple solution."
Bjorn's bluntness shocked everyone, and his next words shocked them even further. "If they grew uneducated, they would be conquerors, correct?" Bjorn received nods from everyone in attendance, and finished "Then why not just educate them once they hatch? Send one of the dragons across the sea, find the baby dragons and teach them."
Every deity atop the mountain was rather stunned at his response. Once they though about it, that was the logical solution. Julianos was upset that a mortal out-logic'ed him.
Akatosh turned to Paarthurnax and asked "Do you have any of my children who are willing to undertake this task?"
Bjorn jumped on his feet, looking rather ridiculous, a man of eight and a half feet and nearly three hundred pounds of muscle jumping like a child on Christmas. "I would be willing to do this task, as I would love the adventure of a new continent. A couple of questions first though, do the people of Westeros and Essos fight well?" Bjorn asked excited, shocking the Daedric princes he had spoken to, such as Malacath, who had only spoken to him once when he claimed the mighty Volendrung which Bjorn swung like a stick.
Akatosh nodded and proclaimed "They are some of the mightiest warriors within all of Mundus! Now then, does anyone have anything to add before we finish this meeting?" The dragon god asked.
Molag Bal chuckled awkwardly, attracting the attention of everyone. "Yeah I do. One of my first plots at conquering the world was in Westeros. It was a great idea, until they rebelled against me. They are known as the White Walkers, and can only be killed by fire, obsidian or a special material known as Valyrian steel. Think of a blade similar in sharpness of ebony, but the blade was forged in dragonfire and magic." Molag Bal finished looking like a kicked puppy.
Meridia glared at Molag and asked "Are they undead, Bal?" Receiving a nod, she glare furiously at him, before turning to Bjorn and smiling sweetly. "Bjorn, darling, you will need to destroy these abominations, so I propose we give you some gifts. I will go first. Your silly little hammer will have an effect similar to that of Dawnbreaker against the undead." She stood and gave him a chaste kiss on the check and said "Good luck dear." And flashed away.
One by one, the Daedric princes gave him gifts, most rather insignificant, before flashing away.
Azura allowed him to control the intensity of the sun on himself. Awful.
Boethia improved his poker face and lying abilities. Slightly less awful.
Clavicus Vile strengthened his Werewolf form, by sharpening his claws, making his muscles denser and bones thicker. Awesome.
Hermaeus Mora gave him the knowledge of the history, houses and languages of Westeros and Essos. Helpful, not awesome.
Hircine improved his senses exponentially. Awesome.
Malacath added spikes periodically all over the head of Volendrung.
Mehrunes Dagon gave him slightly more energy, as he was still mad at him. Bjorn didn't know why though.
Mephala improved his sneaking and eavesdropping skills. Redundant since he was as sneaky as a elephant in a china shop.
Molag Bal replicated Clavicus Vile on Bjorn's human form. Awesome as well.
Namira stopped him from finding many things repulsive, mainly involving battle. Helpful, surprisingly.
Nocturnal allowed him to change his facial features slightly in order to blend in. Very unhelpful because he had never seen anyone nearly as tall as he was.
Peryite raised his immunity to diseases. Very helpful.
Sanguine increased his alcohol tolerance. Hilarious Sanguine.
Sheogorath gave him the knowledge of every cheese. Yup.
Vaermina allowed him to dream lucidly. Very helpful.
The nine divines watched amused as he was given random gifts he would probably never use.
Finally, the divines all left, except for Akatosh who smiled fondly at his son and said to him "I too am giving you a gift. Similar to the blessing of Hircine, you may take on a dragon form. Just for intimidation and because of how awesome he looked, your form will mirror that of Alduin, my first born. Good luck, my son. I fear you will need it." Akatosh grinned and vanished.
Bjorn walked out of his home, Hjerim, in Windhelm with his satchel of gold, weapons, armours and clothes.
He had collected enough septims to purchase an entire city the size of Windhelm, so roughly four million, on his adventures.
He had dozens of different types of weapons, from warhammers, to axes, swords and bows. Many of which were made of different materials, such as glass or ebony, and many were enchanted.
Bjorn's armour was in the same situation as his bow, and clothes.
As he walked through the city, saying his goodbyes, he reminisced upon all of his adventures.
Once Bjorn reached the doors of the city, he walked upon the bridge and smirked at what everyone's reaction would be when he shifted to his draconic form.
Bjorn tried to familiarize himself being forty feet long, with wings and covered in spikes. It was rather difficult to say the least. Soon enough, he managed to make passable flight, and began his journey.
Tadaaaa!