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He ran as fast as he could from the ruins of Helgen. Alduin the World-Eater just dropped in on the execution and he wanted nothing to do with it. Right now he was dressed in his usual apparel consisting of steel greaves and bracers combined with leather armor, gloves, and boots made to fit his small lithe form along with his two two feet long dragon bone swords at his side strapped to his belt, an dragonbow and a quiver of ebony arrows, a pouch bigger on the inside than without, and various daggers hidden on his person. He had a dark cloak that concealed his armor and the hood laid low over his face. The fabric effectively hiding his features of white hair and fierce amber eyes. He was the same height as most nords although his thief like frame and build in addition to sharper features alluded to a very mixed heritage. Taking a breath to calm himself he slowed and continued walking, heading north with hopes of being left in peace. Three figures with the distinct robes of the Thalmor appeared in the distance on the road heading straight for him. Inwardly he swore and cursed his decision to remain on the path, otherwise he would have been able to ignore him. Now they already had him in their sights and seemed intent on stopping to question him. Probably influenced by the rising collum of smoke and ash in the distance.
"You there, you have been graced with the presence of the Thalmor. Behold the glory of the Aldmeri Dominion!" Their leader announced disdainfully as if expecting him to drop to his knees and sing praises -it took all of his self control not to laugh. He drew his swords and one of them immediately cast a spell at him. It dissapated around him partially absorbed and their smirks faded, grimly he rushed them with inhuman speed, agility, and strength to dispatch them. Thrusting the tip of the sword into the first's chest, slipping the blade between his ribs, he spun away in a smooth pivot and parried the second's blow. It was easy to block and evade his move before slicing off his head before following through to pierce the last's throat. Relying on his heightened senses to warn him of others nearby he took his time searching the corspes for any valuables which he quickly relieved them of.
Straightening he continued on the path and after walking a few more hours came to a barrow near a small village, it was called Bleak Falls by the bandits who inhabited it -or rather used to. Now their blood soaked the soil, a head rolled by. He grinned shaking his head at the simple minded opponents. At first they tried to surround him only to take steps back, some of them out right fleeing, when they saw that his eerily dragon like eyes narrowed and his pupils turned to slits as some of his more feral features such as slight fangs, became more prominent -although he never did quite look mortal to begin with. When he growled at them, as only a dragon could match, and a few screeched in fear as they ran only to trip as their entrails were ripped out and their life blood spilled onto the dirt. The scent of death was still fresh as he strolled by and ended up sleeping on the outskirts of Riverwood, the village, taking advantage of the free bedrolls set up and the guards patrolling to keep watch instead of setting up came on his own elsewhere. In the morning he rose to leave only to be stopped by the words of the hunter who also shared the fire.
"They say a dragon was spotted flying near here," he spoke softly with a voice unused to speaking often. "There's a possibility it could attack. This is a good place to trade or stay the night when passing by. I am headed farther west. If you travel nearby, would you request the Jarl of Whiterun send soldiers to protect the area?"
He considered it a moment before nodding. There was a spark of gratitude in the man's eyes when he spoke next. "What's your name stranger? Mine's Darth."
"Caith," he finally responded after some hesitation. He was reluctant to give out that information but a hunter had no reason to use it against him. They shook hands and parted ways; Caith set his feet in the direction of the Hold's capital and the other deeper into Skyrim's wilderness.
It took from nearly dawn to dusk for him to arrive at the city's gates. Although on the plains a trio was attacking a giant that had strayed into the farmland. He took his bow off his back and line a shot up, his aim was true and the arrow sunk into its eye. Another swiftly followed effectively blinding it as the creature clawed at the projectiles soon to be felled by the warriors. Caith was within reach of the guards and about to greet them when he heard footsteps rushing towards him. Out of reflex he drew his dagger, the elven material glinting faintly and sunk into a crouch. Only once he recongnized the heavy breaths to belong to the three fool hardy warriors who had sprinted over to him did he relax. Though the ever battle ready tenseness never did really leave his stance.
"That was a good shot," a fiery red headed nord complimented him. "My name is Aela, they are Farkas and Ria." She introduced him to another nord about his height with longer, shoulder length brown hair and the beginnings of a beard along with an energetic short haired brunette imperial woman.
"We are Companions, you should come to Jorrvaskr and join," Farkas told him in a deep rumbling voice. The woman seemed to agree as she started chattering some nonsense while they approached the gate. The guards let the group pass but called out for him to hault.
"The city is closed due to the dragon attack on Helgen."
"I see you know of that, good. A dragon was spotted near Riverwood and protection is asked of the Jarl," Caith turned to walk away.
"Riverwood is in danger too! You had better tell Jarl Balgruuf, he's up in Dragonsreach. Don't cause any trouble." Was it really not obvious from the fact dragons are flying all over that everywhere is in danger?
Still grumbling internally, though his face remained impassive as he made his way through the city at a jog wanting to catch the Jarl awake before it got too dark to find a place to make camp outside the city. In Dragonsreach Caith was greeted by Irileth, the grumpy housecarl, and delivered the same line to her, than the bronjun, the same lines he gave to the guards posted at the gates. The man was agreeable and sent the order for additional forces to be sent over to the area. Caith was then given some coin for his trouble and directed to the court wizard Farengar who had a task to ask of him.
"I need some one to go investigate a crypt in search of a tablet that may or may not exist, Balgruuf assures me you are capable," the wizard went on to explain the signficance of it all although Caith interrupted when he realized what he was seeking.
"Why would a joor seek the Dovahgloz?" he half demanded half mused. Partly because he was not aware they still had knowledge of its existance.
"Where did you learn to speak the dragon language?" Farengar exclaimed. Although he had already walked away with a nod at Balgruuf to show he consented to the task. Caith made his way out of the city and back towards Riverwood, it was not like he needed regular sleep or meals anyway. Not wanting to deal with the town's residents he ambushed the bandits outside of the barrow with his bow and when the last charged him he simply slung the weapon back over his shoulder not bothering to draw his blades while deflecting the oncoming blow. Swiftly, Caith kicked the bandit's midsection and snapped his kneck as he went limp from multiple broken ribs judging by his pained scream and the subtle snaps he heard.
Proceeding underground, he slaughtered the bandits he found, a giant frostbite spider, gained the claw key from a bandit he stabbed -conviently held still by the web he was trapped in, decapitated a draugr, and reached the final chamber with little trouble. Then, of course, a deathlord stepped out of a coffin and it all went to hell.
Caith sprinted away and rolled under a Shout before coming up to a ready stance holding his blades close defensively. He let the creature approach at an unervingly slow, final, pace then vaulted into action. Easily, he deflected one of its attacks, mirth returning as he realized he was stronger, and slashed at its arm and jumped up and over it using the other limb it extended to grasp at him. Caith's smirk grew as the Shout to disarm him flowed over him harmlessly.
Taking a risk Caith threw his remaining weapon towards the beast while sprinting for his fallen blade. Feeling the hilt he grabbed it off the ground just as the deathlord blocked the airborn sword and decapitated it. Calming his slightly excelerated breathing, Caith sheathed the pair and grimly carved the dovahgloz from its chest doing his best to ignore the blood and gore coating him with a wretched scent rolling off of them. Caith walked back over to thee world wall and a fleeting smile lit his face as he read the familiar script. His expression gave way to saddness at the word wall void of the hum of power it was once installed with. As soon as he did a final sweep to make sure the room was clear and pick up the rest of the loot in the room he vacated the chamber through the hidden exit.
Shielding his eyes from the bright daylight that greeted him he went back to dragonsreach. Upon his return the wizard greeted him and commended his efforts -apparently convinced he had died. Suddenly Irileth, the housecarl, came in announcing of a dragon attack requiring both their presences. However, the woman Farengar was with did not escape his notice trying to blend into the shadows in a tattered cloak. Either way, Caith ended up at the Western Watchtower within the hour waiting for a dragon. thud Thud THUD
The wing beats grew louder as it approached like drums in the sky. "Stay back, do not interfere!" He ordered as the dragon dipped down closer.
"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin," Its words rumbled towards him.
"Drem Yol Lok, Mirmulnir. Zu'u los Dovahkiin! Do you challenge?" his voice lowered to a near whisper yet they were still projected in the same rumbling tone. Mirmulnir roared and shouted fire at him and he dove out of the way drawing his weapons. Leading him towards the destroyed tower and away from the frightened soldiers he darted amongst the stonework avoiding the deadly teeth, talons, and tail. When he was close enough, Caith launched himself from his current perch and onto the dragon's head. Not having bothered ground it by shooting its wings as Mirmulnir was content to take his time in their duel. That proved his downfall as he drove both blades deeply into his skull and he fell dead. Jumping off Caith did not pause as the soul filled him and continued on his way. Only the housecarl saying the Jarl would want to speak with him kept him from turning away from Whiterun and into the wilderness.
"DOVAHKIIN!" the Greybeards summoned him from High Hrothgar on the Throat of the World.
Meeting with Balgruuf ended with a title of Thane, a housecarl named Lydia, and an enchanted axe. Caitth walked up to her and handed her the weapon to which she replied exasperated 'I am sworn to carry your burdens.' Oh, you're so dead. A tight, false smile later and he slipped outside past the guards. Caith walked down the steps and began to make his way out of the city when Farkas spotted him from the crowd in the square descending the steps of the Keep.
"Hey, did you think about our offer?" he asked in a friendly manner. Caith took one look at the determined look in his eye and found the situation to be quite comical if he wasn't the one in it. This man was not giving up if he had to drag him -unlikely he could but it would be amusing to see him try- through the doors of Jorrvaskr.
"Lead the way," he said resignedly. Inside he was led through a mead hall, past a pathetic excuse of a brawl, into the living quarters, and stopping at the room at the end. Inside the room at the end of the stone hallway Farkas's twin brother Vilkas was there with Kodlak -he had gotten a history lesson as they walked.
"Yes, you do have a certain strength of spirit. Perhaps you would do well here," the old man mused thoughtfully.
"Master, are you truly considering accepting him?" Vilkas protested.
"Nor have I heard of you wolf," agtagonizing a group of werewolves probably wasn't the best idea, but how were they to know Caith could scent their Blood? Nevertheless the man's eyes widened though it seemed the Harbinger was non the wiser to his remark.
"We have empty beds and there is room here for those with good hearts that is all that matters."
"And their arm," Vilkas interjected with a sulking glare.
"Ah, yes. How are you in battle?" from Kodlak's tone Caith could have been asked the weather and it would not have mattered more to the man. It seemed he had another supporter for him to join.
"I can handle myself," he stated and watched the wolf's smirk fade as he was intructed to test him outside on the training grounds. Caith followed Vilkas to the yard and watched impassively as he was about to switch to a single handed weapon and shield before drawing the Skyforge steel greatsword strapped to his back instead. He drew his blades and dropped into a ready stance as they began to circle in a deadly dance. Members of the Circle and other Companions came out to watch as they did this, a hush falling over the crowd.
Striking first, Caith sprung forwards deflecting Vilkas's rushed attempt to block his blow and casually brought his other sword to his neck only with a slight pressure so that the other knew it was there then twirled it away. The confusion of his duel partner lasted for a brief moment before he swung his sword back to counter in answer. They would continue to spar. However, this time it was different. Neither of them took advantage of all the openings they saw and chose to prolong the fight far past the point of winning and more into a play of skill.
Finally, almost a hour later they called for a halt and declared the match a draw -both with their far share of bruises. Skjor came and offered a minor potion to them each, he declined knowing it would have no effect and Vilkas merely shrugged, raised an eyebrow, and drank his.
"You fought well, you might just make it. Talk to Farkas for where the sleeping quarters are and Circle members for work," Vilkas explained with no trace of malice in his tone, though there might have been a little respect. Indoors he met up with Farkas who showed him which beds to fall into and got a job to clear out Falmer from Shimmermist Cave. He decided to set out for the job right away, despite it being late into the night -or early morning- so he could be finished as soon as possible. Once he was beyond the city gates Caith found an area to set up camp a ways off the trail in favor of one of the hunters' rests set up in the woods.