Chapter One
And So It Begins
Ghorbash the Iron Hand, known by his friends simply as Ghorbash, was walking down the road next to Half Moon Mill when he heard a sound come from behind. It was a broken sound, as if whoever was making it was running really fast and had come a long way. Ghorbash only knew the sound to be of a rushing enemy, his time in the Legion had taught him that. Turning around, Ghorbash unsheathed his axe and raised it.
He was standing in front of a courier; he was wearing a green tunic and brown leather shoes. Sweat rolled down his brow and the hand which held the letter he was delivering was shaking. He was no older than ten.
"Are you okay?" Ghorbash asked with concern
The courier nodded and handed Ghorbash the letter
"Who's it from?" the Orc pressed, wanting more information
"He wouldn't say" the courier replied as he caught his breath, "Only that you were a friend. Paid me a hefty sum of gold to get it in your hands though..."
Ghorbash rolled his eyes and looked upward in disbelief, "Is this some kind of joke?"
The courier shrugged, his breathing was shallow, almost as if at any moment he were going to pass out. Ghorbash knelled down on one knee and pulled out a potion of stamina, he opened it and bade the courier drink.
"Thank you" the courier said gratefully, "Might've blacked out without that."
Ghorbash nodded, "What's your name?"
The courier looked Ghorbash over, wanting to know if he could trust him.
"That depends" he said, "Are you going to rip my spine out?"
Ghorbash stared at him as if he were completely insane
"Why would I do that?" Ghorbash asked, "You think that because I'm an Orc I rip people's spines off for no reason?"
The courier nodded, it was a fair assumption
"That's hardly fair now is it?" Ghorbash continued, "I have proven myself to be a respected member of society, in good standing. Not some bush whacking savage."
The courier shook his head, "Please sir" he stumbled, "Don't take it personally, I meant nothing by it!"
Ghorbash huffed, hurt and frankly pissed that someone would automatically jump to racist conclusions. He quickly let this go, seeing that the courier was just a kid. The courier, in an effort to make up for his folly, gave Ghorbash what he wanted.
"Samuel at your service"
Ghorbash raised his eyebrows, for he was sure that he had heard that name before. Then again Samuel was a common name, but Ghorbash swore that he recognized his voice.
"Where do you come from boy?" Ghorbash said as he stood up to his full height and sheathed his weapon.
Samuel nervously looked around as if he were afraid to answer.
"No place" he answered, "I used to come from Riften. In Honorhall Orphanage, you heard of it?"
Ghorbash nodded, for he had heard of it and he had seen Samuel, there was no doubt in his mind.
"You should consider adoption" Samuel continued, "There are a lot who weren't as lucky as me. The Headmistress could tell you more."
Ghorbash waved him off, "I'm not exactly the fatherly type" he answered, "Too headstrong, not patient enough...too strict, I could go on."
Samuel nodded and made his way down the road towards Whiterun. Before he could leave earshot, Ghorbash called after him.
"Boy!" he cried, "It's dangerous to wander the road alone!"
Samuel either didn't hear him or heard him and didn't care. He had made it this far on his own, he would be alright.
Ghorbash didn't open the letter; he merely stuffed it in his pocket and headed for home.
Home for Ghorbash was Lakeview Manor, a large property near the coast of Lake Ilinalta. Walking up to the house, which was starting to become something of a villa, Ghorbash ran into Gunjar, the carriage driver for Lakeview.
"How's it going Ghorbash?" Gunjar asked in his usual friendly manner
"Can't complain much" Ghorbash answered, "Where's the boss at?"
Gunjar looked around, to his right was a stable, behind him was the house and behind that was a small apiary. A small path veering to the left could be seen, down which worker's quarters could be. Next to the worker's quarters was the apple orchard that was at the bottom of the hill on which the house was on.
The house itself was huge. Three stories tall, with six wings. It had an alchemy lab, an enchanter's tower, a kitchen, an armory and a master bedroom suite. On the porch that connected the bedroom suite to the outside was a dragon post, something of a makeshift helipad, on which Odahviing and at times Paarthurnax, would come to land. At the moment, Odahviing was on errands and not at the house.
"I don't know" Gunjar said, "Haven't seen him all day. Although I would check the Tower, he seems to spend a lot of time up there."
Ghorbash sighed; he was afraid that this was going to be his answer; he thanked Gunjar and walked inside.
Walking inside, Ghorbash quickly passed through the entry way and came into the main hall. An elaborate table, big enough for twenty people, was the center piece. On the right and left side of the room were stairs to the upper floors. Over the table, a chandelier could be seen, the room being open in the middle all the way to the top.
To Ghorbash's right was a small table and chair; to his left was a shelf. On the right side of the room was the bedroom suite; on the left was the kitchen area. The back wall of the main hall had two doors, one on each side, which lead into the enchanter's tower, otherwise known as The Tower and the armory. There was also a back room which had a trapdoor that opened up to the cellar.
Ghorbash looked around the room and saw Scouts-Many-Marshes, the cook of the household, sitting at the table trying to think of what the house was going to have for dinner. Unlike most cooks in Skyrim, Scouts did not spend all of his hours of the day in the kitchen, only there when he was needed. The rest of the time he was either out helping the others in the orchard, the apiary or trying to get fish from the lake. Scouts was almost always working and thus only got breaks during the evening hours after dinner. Because of his hard working mentality, Ghorbash respected and often times looked up to him, Scouts did the same.
"Have you seen the Dragonborn anywhere?" Ghorbash asked as he walked up to Scouts, who turned upon hearing his voice.
"Ghorbash!" Scouts said happily as he stood up, "Haven't seen you in ages, how have you been?"
Ghorbash laughed, for he had only been gone for a week and Scouts already missed him.
"I'm fine you belt" Ghorbash answered playfully, "Now tell me, have you seen the boss around?"
Scouts' tail moved side to side impatiently, it would do this whenever the Argonian was thinking really hard about something, almost as if it had a mind of its own.
"Not recently" he answered, "Did you check the cellar? He might be there."
Ghorbash huffed, "Funniest thing. Gunjar told me to check the Tower, and you're telling me to check the cellar. Is something going on?"
Scouts looked around innocently, "What could be going on? Not much happens in Falkreath, you know that. Besides-"
Scouts gestured to himself
"I'm just a simple cook."
Ghorbash sat opposite Scouts, in front of him was a tankard of cold mead, which he drank hardly.
"I thought you were a blacksmith" Ghorbash exclaimed as he wiped his mouth
"I was once" Scouts answered, "Appreciated in Gideon under Talen-Jei. He was a blacksmith too, a lot of us were. When he switched to the bartending business, I followed suit and learned to cook. Know every one of the Gourmet recipes by heart, along with a few other things."
"Why did you switch to cooking?" Ghorbash asked curiously, he had known Scouts for almost a year, never once did past professions come up in conversation.
"I realized that I would rather do something that doesn't pay well under good management then something that makes me rich under bad management." Scouts answered, "The head smith was a cruel one, whip his tail at you if you even so much as looked at him wrong. Talen and I go a long way back. We hatched at the same time."
Sooner or later, dinner time rolled around. Scouts had prepared a luxurious meal- hearty venison, salmon fresh from the lake, potatoes and cabbage stew. For drink, there was every kind there was-traditional mead, ale, alto wine, spiced wine and the prized Black-Briar mead, all of them chilled from the snows of the Throat of the World, courtesy of Paarthurnax and Arngeir, the former of whom was on the landing pad outside with Odahviing at this point. Ghorbash, Scouts, Gunjar and Brelyna Maryon, who was visiting, were sitting at the table.
To include the dragons in the festivities there were no doors on the second tier of the building, instead, the master of the house installed an entire wall that slides upward via a pull chain. This was enough to allow Odahviing and Paarthurnax to stick their heads and half of their neck through the building comfortably without shaming themselves, for the building was big enough for such an arrangement.
Ghorbash looked up at Odahviing and handed the dragon a piece of venison.
"Many thanks" Odahviing said in gratitude, "I haven't eaten since I passed over Darkwater Crossing."
Ghorbash shrugged, he had no idea why Odahviing was thanking him, for he didn't do anything.
"Don't thank me" he said, "thank the cook."
Odahviing turned towards Scouts and brought his head low in approval
"Derkeethus wishes you well Scouts-Many-Marshes." the dragon continued, "He wishes to cordially invite you to-"
Odahviing searched his mind, for he had forgotten what it was that Derkeethus said, he knew that it was important, but for some reason couldn't remember.
Odahviing left soon after, too embarrassed about forgetting something that was honestly trivial, to even so much as stay in the presence of good company. The others looked concernedly at Paarthurnax.
"Dragons are prideful by nature" Paarthurnax explained, "Odahviing is chief even among them. Despite his new found humility and kindness, he finds it difficult to adapt to...accepting his own humanity as it were."
"Understandable" Gunjar replied, "I mean if you're one thing for so long, it can be difficult to change right?"
Paarthurnax nodded in agreement.
Ghorbash could relate to that, often times he had thought about returning to the stronghold. Maybe he would become chief, take on many wives and have many descendants. Or maybe Ghorbash would plead for his position as a member of the tribe, or maybe he would reenlist in the Legion. But in the end Ghorbash knew that he couldn't forsake the position that was now bestowed upon him.
The door burst open, the cold night winter air came rushing through the door. Brelyna walked towards the door and found Samuel collapsed in front of the door.
"Gunjar, Ghorbash! Someone help me!" Brelyna called
Gunjar, Ghorbash and Scouts came running to see what the trouble was
"Mara's mercy he's freezing" Brelyna continued, she looked towards the fire in the main hall, it was dying.
"Paarthurnax" Scouts said, "Light the-" Scouts didn't even have to finish his sentence for Paarthurnax to comply with the request, for he could see from inside.
Gunjar and Ghorbash carried Samuel towards the fire, while Brelyna fetched a blanket from one of the cabinets. Scouts, seeing that all of the food had been eaten, headed for the kitchen and started making soup and juniper berry pie.
Samuel shivered despite the fact that he was almost on top of the fire. Ghorbash had Brelyna bring more blankets and Gunjar to grab a book.
"Hurry it up with that soup Scouts" Ghorbash yelled, "The boy's freezing to death out here!"
At this the frantic sounds of pots, the whipping of batter and the stoking of the oven fire could be heard, Scouts was obviously using both hands and his tail for the job, doubling his work output. In Scouts' mind it still wasn't fast enough.
Gunjar came back with a book, but before he could so much as open it, he tripped over an end table, accidentally throwing the book in the fire, destroying it. Gunjar stood up nervously and was prepared to get chewed out by Ghorbash, but no such thing happened, instead Ghorbash stood and went to get another book himself. The Orc didn't so much as move before Paarthurnax stopped him.
"Steward" Paarthurnax began, "Sit and bade rest. I will tell a story."
Ghorbash complied and took his place back at the table. Scouts appeared from the kitchen, covered in flour and soup stains, but with soup and pie in hand.
"This will warm you right up" Scouts said proudly to Samuel, "It's not much I'm afraid. But it was made with all the care in the world."
Samuel smiled and thanked Scouts by enjoying the meal, for there was no need for words between them.
While Samuel ate, Paarthurnax told the story of how he met The Dragonborn, for none of them were there and so none knew the tale. When he got to the part about the Blades and them wanting to kill him, they all scoffed, not at Paarthurnax, but at Delphine and Esbern's blindness of moral compasses and their ever changing directions. As punishment for this, they were put into exile by The Dragonborn and the Greybeards, never to pick up a blade for dragon slaying again. Paarthurnax continued to say that Delphine refused and is now living in the Skyrim wilderness, killing any dragon that she sees, eventually, he suspects, she will die at the hands of one.
"Why are The Blades so narrow minded?" Samuel asked curiously
"Because they know no other way of being" Paarthurnax answered, "Their wisdom in distrust of dragons is true, however misguided. I can be trusted, as can Odahviing, they, or rather she, is ignorant of this. I have no doubt, The Dovahkiin will see to her end soon enough."
Eventually the time came for bed. Scouts, Gunjar and Brelyna retired to the workers quarters, running as fast as they could to avoid freezing to death. Paarthurnax left some time after, preferring his perch at the Throat of the World. Samuel stayed by the fire with Ghorbash watching over him until he fell asleep.
The Orc had a strange feeling in his stomach, he couldn't place what it was, but he knew that it was something new for him. Ghorbash, upon seeing that Samuel was asleep, retired to bed, with full intention of returning him returning to Riften the next morning. He did not forget about the letter, but he decided, since it was nearing the small hours of the next morning, to wait until daylight to read it.