The group made their way to Ivarstead, where the Seven Thousand Steps started, on to the path to High Hrothgar. The Seven Thousand steps can be dangerous, but the creatures there are mostly frost Wolves, and the occasional bear.
The group saw Ivarstead in the distance, Tjorborn was smiling, imagining what it would be like to learn words of power, and having the knowledge of the Gray Beards. The group eventually entered Ivarstead, and smelt the beautiful smells of the village.
Grapes being crushed into wine could be heard, and smelt. The fresh wood getting sawed at the mill, the fresh potatoes and cabbages from the local farm, everything was beautiful. Ja'liir scanned the people's purses, and their belongings to see what was valuable, and what was not.
Miora nudged Ja'liir's shoulder, and Ja'liir snapped out of her theif-temptations. "There's more to life than gold, and valuables, Ja'liir." Miora said to Ja'liir, as the group made their way across the small bridge to the Seven Thousand Steps.
"Who said Ja'liir wanted to steal? Maybe she wanted to see what the people's purses and back pockets look like." Ja'liir said, obviously lying through her teeth. "Hm. All I'm saying is to look at the beauty of this place, not it's people's purses." Miora said, walking at a brisk pace.
Ja'liir shrugged her shoulders, and they were all now at the start of the steps. Tjorborn stepped on the first step, and a man approached him. "Hey, before you four go up there, can you deliver this for me?" The man asked, holding out a satchel, packed to the brim.
"It's supplies for the Gray Beards, I'm meant to take them up, but my legs are weak. If you four do it, there will be handsome coin." The man said, smirking. "Ok." Gorlock said, taking the bag. The man put his thumbs up, and walked to the local Inn.
The group continued up the path. They encountered many small stone word walls along the way, talking about the history of Dragons, and their slaying. After about two hours, they were at least three thousand steps up, and they were all very tired.
Night was approaching, so they set up camp next to one of the stone word walls. They set up a small tent, their sleeping rolls, and slept through the night, all in the same tent.
In the morning, Tjorborn was woken up to the sound of ice shards being shot. "Die, you abomination!" A female voice could be heard. "Just die!" The female shouted again. Tjorborn slid on his armor and equipment, and walked out of the tent without waking the party up.
He saw a beautiful mage woman, about the same age of Tjorborn. He walked closer to the woman, shooting ice shards from her hands. "Miss?" He said, looking at the woman. "Help me kill that thing!" The woman shouted, still shooting the ice shards. Tjorborn looked in the direction of where the woman was shooting, and saw a scarred ice troll.
Tjorborn readied his axe and his shield, and began to raise his shield. As soon as the ice shards hit the Troll, it healed, the shards sliding from the creature as it healed. Tjorborn ran towards the beast, raising his axe. He brought his axe down upon the Trolls' right shoulder, cleaving the axe as deep as he could into the beast.
The troll screamed in pain, and back-handed Tjorborn, sending him flying almost off the cliff of the mountain. He slid back, but he cleaved his axe into some ice, and stayed held on to the mountain. The woman looked at Tjorborn, and summoned a flame Antronoch, that shot fire-balls towards the beast, distracting it. The troll sprinted towards the Antronoch
The woman ran over to Tjorborn, and helped him up. She grabbed on to his arm, and pulled him up. "You're heavy, especially with that armor." The woman said, finishing pulling him up. "It's good armor though. Now, let's go kill us a Frost Troll, aye?" Tjorborn said, raising an eyebrow, and holding his hand out.
"Let's kill that thing!" The woman said, taking Tjorborn's hand. She let go of him, and saw her Antronoch being beaten to a pulp. The Antronoch exploded at its death, as all flame Antronochs do. This sent the Troll flying into an ice wall, cracking it almost wholly in half. The creature got up, and roared at the sight of the two.
The troll began to get up to its feet, and was instantly impaled by an Ice Shard in its arm, pinning it to the wall. "Got him!" The woman shouted. "Good job." Tjorborn said, readying his Shield. The creature pulled the spike from its arm, and looked at the two again. It roared, than got crushed by an ice avalanche that it made, from slamming onto the ice.
The ice was charging at the two. "Get down!" Tjorborn shouted, pulling the woman behind him, his shield covering them. Before the rubble hit them, Gorlock had ran in that way, and was holding back what looked like at least a fourth of the mountain.
"Move, you idiots!" Gorlock shouted, gripping his feet into the snow. Tjorborn put his shield down, and pushed against the ice and snow, helping Gorlock. They were obviously struggling, so Ja'liir and Miora came to help push. The woman helped to, putting up a ward. "Move, the ward will stop it, but you need to get out of the way, it's about to break!" The woman cautiously shouted.
Ja'liir moved out of the way first, then Miora, then Gorlock and finally Tjorborn. The woman released the ward, and the snow rushed down the mountain. "So, I see you three have woken up?" Tjorborn said playfully, breathing heavily.
"Yes. We did, Tjorborn." Ja'liir said, seriously. "Well then… I'm sorry about all that. I woke up, and I saw this woman fighting a damned Frost Troll. So I helped, and one thing to another, this mess happened." Tjorborn said, putting his hands on his waist.
"I'm Floria." The woman said, checking her satchel to see if everything was there. "I'm sure you've heard of me. I'm next to become Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold! I think…" Floria said, doubtfully. "Well, I was up here to learn more from the Graybeards, so why are you four here?" Floria asked, still looking through her satchel.
"We've got the Dragonborn, and we're coming up here to teach him the way of the voice, with the Graybeards." Miora said, trying to brag. "Dragonborn? That would explain the "Dovahkiin" I heard. Who's the Dragonborn in your party, and can he or she use the voice?" Floria asked, to make sure.
"Tjorborn here. He has the voice. Show her." Gorlock said, nudging him on his shoulder. "Ok…" Tjorborn said. He let out a "Fus!" leaving Floria shocked. "Wow. The real Dragonborn. Me, being a Breton, I never thought much of Nordic beliefs. But I saw a Dragon. And from what I know about Nordic culture, that was Alduin, the world eater." Florai said, itching her short blonde hair, and rubbing her blue eyes.
"Anyway, I can help you guys, on your trip. I'm sure you'll need potions, and magic to defeat Alduin. And, I can supply that." Floria said, smartly, a smirk across her face. 'In exchange for help to prove that I can be the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold." She said, standing straight.
"You've got yourself a deal." Tjorborn said, happily shaking Floria's hand, a smirk on his face.