Prologue: Brothers Retreat
Ronan looked back at his brother Torygg as they ran from the beast above them. An elder dragon they had disturbed adventuring in the forests near Falkreath was trying to make them its meal. Torygg had used his bow to place a few arrows within its wings and face, but the tough scales that covered its body had protected it more than Torygg thought. And Ronan couldn't use his axe unless it landed right in front of him, which he hoped would not happen. Gods, they may have been Nords, but they weren't trained soldiers or mercenaries.
"Torygg!" Ronan shouted. "I think there's a house ahead of us!"
"Lakeview Manor!" Torygg shout back, followed by another roar from the dragon. "It might be abandoned, though! No one's known to travel to the manor since the Dragonborn disappeared fifty years ago!"
Ronan slid down a rock and crawled behind a tree as flames began shooting out of the humongous creature's mouth. The trees around him began to smoke and burn, and he was afraid they were going to burn the whole forest down. Torygg brought his arms up and began to emit a frost spell to put out the fire near his brother. When the flames died, the dragon roared louder, sending a chill down Ronan's spine.
"It's our only chance! Come on, brother! To Lakeview Manor!" Ronan grabbed his brother's arm and charged out of the forest, being scratched by tree branches but ignoring them. Their legs began to feel like the soft cream of a sweetroll treat as they reached a small road out of the forest. About thirty feet away was the pathway to the manor built by the Dragonborn's own hands. Ronan and Torygg had read from the legends that the Dragonborn had possessed many houses spanning across all of Skyrim, but he built three of them himself with permission from the Jarls within the area of that land. He also possessed many daedric artifacts, swept through many ruins, slayed many bandits, and devoured the souls of many dragons. He was a legend and an icon the brothers had looked up to. They didn't understand why he disappeared.
"Ronan," Torygg panted. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to go near Lakeview Manor. It was once the property of the Dragonborn. What if someone else owns it or it's abandoned and rotting away from the chaos of time?"
Ronan heard the roar of the dragon getting nearer. "I'll take my chances finding a ruin than running out in the open. I'm not ready to meet our ancestors in Sovngarde yet, brother." He broke out running again straight to the house, followed by his nervous brother.
"Ronan!" Torygg shouted as his brother had darted ahead of him. The large building was still intact and incredibly magnificent. The pictures in the books didn't do the manor justice. It was still intact and the wall scones in the front were still lit, which meant someone must have still lived within the house. Ronan and Torygg began to bang on the door, hoping that whoever still lived within would open the door and let them in.
"Help!" Torygg shouted. "There's a dragon out here!"
"We need help!" Ronan continued. It was when they stopped banging on the door, however, when the dragon landed in front of the house. Ronan and Torygg turned to face the beast again. Its nostrils flared and the two brothers could feel the heat building up within its mouth as it prepared to shout them to death and burn the manor down in front of them.
That was when the door opened.
Ronan and Torygg had pulled out their weapons and magic ready to fight, but they didn't realize the armored man walking out of the building. When their eyes caught his moving figure, they saw the studded armor, the skyforge steel sword emitting the coldness of Skyrim's greatest mountains, the black iron shield, and the recognizable iron helm worn by none other than the man himself.
The Dragonborn.
"FUS-RO-DAH!" The man yelled as the power of the voice shook the elder dragon in front of him. After having seemingly disappeared for fifty years, the Dragonborn was not only standing right next to Ronan and Torygg, but was also demonstrating the power of his voice right in front of them. It was just as they imagined it would sound like.
"DOH-VAH-KIIN!" The elder dragon shouted as he staggered from their old foe's voice.
The Dragonborn then charged right at the monster with his sword ready to strike. Seeing the old hero charge straight at the dragon gave the brothers a bit of courage as they charged as well. Ronan brought his battle axe down upon the dragon's right wing, cleaving through the softer wing tissue. The dragon would have roared in anger had it not been for Torygg jumping onto its back with two steel daggers piercing its spine. The Dragonborn had brought his sword down upon the beast's head and slashed through its face with his sword, hitting it with his shield when it attempted to shout back.
"Fall, damn you!" Torygg shouted from the dragon's back.
The Dragonborn then hopped onto the dragon's head, ignoring the chomps of the dragon's jaw that attempted to kill him or at least remove his opponent from his head. He continued to slash at the creature until he released his death cry, falling limp in front of the brothers. The Dragonborn hopped off of the dragon and put his sword in its sheath. Torygg pulled his daggers out of its body and slid off as the dragon's body began to decay. The soul of the dragon began to flow into the Dragonborn, bringing him to feel the familiar sharing of knowledge and power that all dragons held. Ronan and Torygg were astounded by witnessing it. Only when the bones of the dragon remained did either of them talk.
"I can't believe it." Ronan spoke. "You're really him. The Dragonborn."
The Dragonborn turned around to face him, but that was when Ronan noticed the bandage across his eyes. He was old enough to be considered their grandfather, so he guessed that was the reason why he was blind. But it surprised him that he was.
"You have come a long way from home, Ronan and Torygg of Solitude. My name is Zacharius Morrigan, and I was once known across Tamriel as the Dragonborn, Slayer of Alduin, Bane of the Vampire Lords, Hero of Skyrim, and Executioner of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak."
"How do you know our names?" Torygg asked.
"The Elder Scrolls told me about your arrival. Just as it told my grandfather about Alduin's return, and my destiny to slay him. Before I had these periods of blindness, I saw your arrival at my doorstep in one of the scrolls."
"Periods of blindness?"
"An effect I learnerd from the moth priests. But that can all be talked about tomorrow. For the sun sets and you have been running for so long. You need food and rest for your journey."
Ronan and Torygg looked at each other for a few seconds. Ronan spoke first.
"We'd be honored to be allowed into your home. It's the rarest of opportunities to be allowed into the home of a living legend."
"The honor is mine to have such eager guests after so long." The old man extended his hand, which the brothers shook. "Come inside. My wife has baked some pies and made some venison chops."
"Venison." Torygg drooled. "It's been quite a while since I was actually able to go hunting. Aside from the dragon, of course."
"Which we simply ran away from." Ronan added.
"It is all right to experience fear." Zacharius answered. "When I saw Alduin for the first time, I had never been so scared in my entire life. But then I faced him down and secured my destiny. And more."
"Not many of those guards patrolling the cities show fear when a dragon attacks."
"That's because they wear those helmets that cover their faces. They're silly little things. But it protects their faces, so they should count themselves lucky." Zacharius took off his helmet as he walked through the house. Ronan and Torygg found it strange that he was walking around his house as if he wasn't blind. Normally a blind man needed someone to take care of them so they could walk around a city, let alone the man's own home.
"You seem to know how to navigate around everything even though you're blind." Ronan noted out loud.
"I'll take that as a compliment. It's because I've trained my ears over time the way a dovah uses his ears."
"A dovah?"
"In their tongue, it means dragon. Why do you think that elder dragon referred to me as Dovahkiin? It's Dragonborn in their tongue."
"So you understand their language?"
"Yes." Zacharius sat himself at the table as an old woman in a white dress brought out a few plates and a younger woman brought out a platter of venison steaks. Torygg caught the eye of the younger woman. She was a Redguard in her late twenties at the very least. She had a scimitar on her belt like that of the many Redguards that visited the country, and the features on her face made her look far more beautiful than any of the women in Solitude.
Ronan kicked his brother's shin when the Dragonborn 'stared' in his direction.
"So, it was just as you said, my love." The older woman smirked. "We would finally have guests at our home. About time, too."
"They came at the right time, as well, my love." Zacharius took his wife's hand and placed a gentle kiss onto her palm.
"Should I bring them ale, sir?" The younger woman asked.
"Don't give Torygg Honningbrew Ale." Ronan immediately warned. "It goes to his head so fast. Last time he drank so many bottles he was utterly convinced a chicken was a dragon and he set it on fire."
"Hey, that's in the past!" Torygg snapped.
"Don't shout at me. We're guests in the Dragonborn's house. We must respect his hospitality."
"That's a good idea." Zacharius joked. "Only I can shout in my house."
Ronan and Torygg dropped their argument and laughed at the Dragonborn's joke.
"I'm sure the mead will be fine, Mirileen." Zacharius bowed his head to his servant. She brought out five mead bottles and set them in front of the plates. Torygg watched as Mirileen set down a venison chop onto everyone's plates. Then she placed some mashed potatoes and carrots onto the plates and sat down in the seat closest to Torygg.
The entire dinner was spent with Ronan and Torygg explaining their story. Ronan was an adventurer and occasionally offered to be a bodyguard or mercenary to the right person. Torygg was a mage and a hunter who had studied at the College of Winterhold for a few years. He currently was travelling with his older brother because he needed a break from college business. They had just passed through Falkreath when the dragon attacked, which led to them being at the doorstep of Lakeview Manor.
After dinner Mirileen took all of the dishes to be washed in the kitchen, and Torygg offered to help her out. Ronan and Zacharius went into the armory, where Ronan saw manacins that were dressed in clothes and armors that he recognized as the many foes the Dragonborn had slain in his prime. The robes of Miraak from his time in Solstheim, the raiment of Lord Harkon the Vampire Lord, a set of Hardened Falmer armor, and even a light and heavy variant of the armors made from dragon scales and bones.
"Quite an impressive collection." Ronan commented.
"Thank you. I earned or made everything within this house through blood, sweat, and tears. I had endured plenty of hardships and trials in the past, but I had an unfair advantage for some of those moments."
"Which was?"
"Knowledge."
Ronan nodded as he heard Mirileen and Torygg laughing in the kitchen. "Fair warning, I think that my brother has a thing for your servant."
"Mirileen is a young woman. She is the steward of this house and she takes care of me and my wife, but I expect her to make her own choices. Her mother, Rayya, was the first steward of Lakeview Manor, and she let her daughter take over when she was too old to help. The rest of her family moved to Hammerfell, and the poor girl hasn't done much around here besides work. It's good to have company every once in a while over, but since I secluded myself, the company became less and less."
"If you don't mind me asking, why did you seclude yourself to this house?"
"After I defeated Ulfric Stormcloak, I felt that my presense wasn't needed anymore. I had killed a tyrant, a ghost, a vampire lord, and the world-eater. Nothing else was written within the scrolls except the future I could write for myself. So I chose to take care of my family. Now they're grown up, seeking their own fortunes or living with their spouces."
"But after they grew up why didn't you go back into the world and perform amazing feats like the days of old?"
"Because the world didn't need me anymore. I still went out to the other holds, but I wasn't dressed in my armor. I visited friends, bought supplies, and met with my children and grandchildren. Everyone else saw me as what I once was: a person. Not an icon or a legend, but a person. My time for greatness is over. It's my children who now carry on the legacy of the Dragonborn. At least my youngest does. My first two children I adopted after building this house. My youngest son possesses the dragonblood, and I sent him to learn from the greybeards. He's become a great man now, and I am proud for all of my children."
"Do you ever miss the old days?"
"A bit. I remember my wife complaining about how I always asked her to carry some things. I always gave her a back rub when we set up camp after hauling plenty of the treasures we had collected from ruins and tombs. She enjoyed that."
"That's good. A man should always place the needs of his woman and his children over the needs of himself."
"And that's exactly what I did."
Ronan stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at the raiment of Lord Harkon for a few moments. "If it's not too much to ask, but would you share the tale of your adventures with us?"
Zacharius smiled. "Tomorrow morning. For now, we should all turn in and get some rest."
"Okay. Where should my brother and I sleep?"
"We have beds all around the house. Make yourself at home. Just remember the double bed is for me and my wife."
"Don't worry. We'll stay out of your bed. Good night, Dragonborn."
"Please, call me Zacharius."
Ronan nodded. "Very well, Zacharius." He headed to the kitchen, dragged his brother away from Mirileen, and found the two beds on the top floor that hadn't been touched. He began to remove his armor as his brother began talking.
"So, is he going to tell us about his adventures?"
"He will in the morning." Ronan stretched his muscles after his chestplate was set on the floor. His gauntlets and boots followed afterwards before he collapsed on his bed. His brother had merely taken off his boots and lay on the bed opposite of his brother.
"Miri's a nice enough girl. She told me about how her family moved back to Hammerfell. She likes working for the Dragonborn. He's far too kind to her, and he treats her like she's family. Her mother served him for many years as steward of the manor."
"Yeah, he told me. He also said he disappeared because he felt the world didn't need him anymore. It was like the Champion of Cyrrodil. They did so much for the world and saved it from total destruction, but then they just slide out of history. Why?"
"Hell if I know, brother. Hell if I know."
Ronan dozed off immediately after that, dreaming of all the amazing things the Dragonborn must've done in his prime.
The next morning, Ronan found himself waking up to the smell of potato soup and sweet rolls. He got out of his bed and dressed himself in his armor again, leaving his steel battle axe leaning against the wall where he had left it. He walked down the stairs in a yawn, stretching his arms out as far as he could. Mirileem and Torygg were setting down plates and bowls at the table, and Zacharius was bringing down a large pile of books in his two hands. The bandage around his eyes was gone now, and Ronan could see the blue irises that lay beneath. His hair was still the silver strands that rest on his head, and he was wearing a belted tunic instead of his famed studded armor.
"Can you see today?" Ronan asked.
"Yes, thank the Nine. If I couldn't see, it'd make the journals of our exploits useless. At least if I'm telling the story."
"There were hints in the history books that you were a worshipper of Talos. Is that true?"
"Yes." Zacharius set the journals down. "I still am, actually. I have a shrine to him underneath my house."
"And the collection of the daedric artifacts?"
"Sometimes the daedra have a twisted sense of humor. But those are stories for later. We must start at the beginning in order for you to understand." He motioned for Ronan to take a seat, and the younger man obeyed. Once everyone had seated with food in their spots, everyone ate silently until their bowls of potato soup were consumed and the sweetrolls were devoured, but Torygg had mostly tore through those because Mrileen baked them.
"Oh, my." Torygg moaned. "These are the best sweetrolls I have ever consumed."
"I can tell, brother. You ate half of them off the damn plate." Ronan criticized. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up puking your guts out in the middle of the story."
"I sure hope not. The Dragonborn has a lot of good stories."
Zacharius laughed. "Indeed I do. But you have to understand that not everything said in the history books is true. These journals are my history recorded by me and my friends. And it all started fifty years ago, when my grandfather died."
Zacharius pulled out a particular journal from his stack. It was by far the oldest journal in the bunch, and it was still well-preserved. He held it out to Ronan and Torygg, who took it carefully and looked at the writing on the pages:
I saw the signs. The last elder scroll I saw foretold of this. Skyrim; my homeland, will be ravaged by war near the dawn of the next century. Brothers will slaughter each other over what they believe in, and no one will be prepared for what happens next. Some would call me crazy if I had said this out loud, but I saw the return of the dragons, the harbingers of the end times. Yet somehow within the darkness, I saw a ray of hope. Five souls within the darkness that will be responsible for the world-eater's destruction. A Nord with a destiny, a Breton with a fire in her heart, an Imperial with a lot of luck, an Altmer with a gift, and a Dumner with a dark secret. Among them will be one with the dragonblood that the Septim bloodline once possessed. It will be the destiny of the Dragonborn to save the world from the darkness that threatens to poison this world with their influence.
But I must stop writing for now. I must push the thoughts of the vision from my mind so I may meet with my daughter's suitor. I hear he is a strong Nord that has commanded much respect from within the Imperial Guard. Perhaps he is everything I search for in a son-in-law.
"So a moth priest actually foresaw the return of the dragons?" Ronan asked.
"Yes. In fact, it was my grandfather who prophecized the return of the dragons. His journal was actually passed to me after his death. It was on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday, actually. He had been murdered in his home with an elven dagger that was left in his side. His home had also been wrecked, but whoever had commited the crime left no indication that anything was actually stolen."
"Damn. Who killed him?"
"I believed it to be a Thalmor plot. They had been poking around my home during the time, and I suspected they murdered him to get to me. However, my parents encouraged me not to take the fight to the Thalmor. Instead, they invited me back home and gave me the journal, saying that for my sake I needed to head to Skyrim with the journal to protect it from the Thalmor. After the Empire had signed the White-Gold Concordat, my family had growing suspicious of the Thalmor. I had, too, but not enough to become biased of all elves like Ulfric Stormcloak. In fact, I had quite a few elven allies throughout my years. One ally was a Dunmer named Tarius. He was a trader by nature and smuggled my grandfather's journal into Skyrim for me."
"Why did you have it smuggled into Skyrim?" Torygg asked.
"Because my story started out badly. I had tried to sneak across the border into Skyrim where I had first ran into Ulfric Stormcloak and his men, as well as a thief that had stolen a horse."
"The history books never mention that. They say that you were just in Helgen when Alduin first appeared in the world again."
"Well, the history books were wrong. You see, I wasn't in Helgen as a guest when Alduin attacked. Alduin had actually saved my life. I was going to the chopping block with Ulfric Stormcloak."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think that sets the stage for my new Skyrim story. I won't promise a regular updating schedule, but I'll try to place a chapter up around the same time as my other story. And if anybody has recommendations for things to happen within the story, feel free to leave a review or PM. I plan on focusing on the main quest and the guild quests, all with different characters. But if you want certain side quests or anything else along the lines of characters, scenes, or even (dare I say it) sex, you know who to contact.
Also, if you aren't a follower of my main story, Mass Effect: Resolution, and you're a fan of Mass Effect, I recommend you give it a read. You might enjoy it.