The Tale of Zoorzuvokogan
I do not own Skyrim or anything involved with it.
I pull my black cloak tighter as I run down the hill and charge into battle. Fully aware of my surroundings, I make note of the warriors here. There is the dark elf from Whiterun, about three of the city's guards, four of them have died, and a particularly odd figure. It is a man, about a year or two older than I in all steel plate armor. His helmet has come off and I recognize him as a nord. He slashes at the dragon with his bloody steel greatsword.
My axe is ready and I run to the dragon. The dragon spits his flames and I swing. He lets out a guttural growl before I sever his head. The frost enchantment inflicted extra damage as he shudders. His body slumps and starts to burn. I turn to look at the warriors and I can tell the nord is not pleased.
He points his blade at my throat and growls through his clenched teeth. "That was my kill. Maybe you should take its place." The blade touches under my chin and I can feel the dragon's still warm blood.
I can feel an essence coming into my soul as the dragon burns to its bones. An orangish glow surrounds the challenging nord and myself. His sword lowers.
"You too?" His statement is filled with disbelief and he sheaths his sword to his back. He holds out his hand in greeting.
I am to quick for him to react as my speed takes him off guard. My hands are locked around his arms as I pin them to his back. I come close to his ear and whisper. "What am I and what do you know of me?"
One of the guards sees this quarrel and is quick to remark. "By the Gods! The Dragonborn have returned! And what luck, there are two!" Dragonborn? I read about that from the book I found in Helgen. A warrior with the body of a mortal but soul of a dragon. The ultimate dragon slayer. Someone who can claim the soul of dead dragons.
"We might not have two for long. Looks like you got yourself in a bit of trouble now haven't you Nonvul." Another guard chuckles as I let the nord named Nonvul go. He rubs his arms and shoots me an unpleasant glare.
Translated, his name means 'noble'. He must have parents that knew the dragon language like mine.
"We don't really know if they're Dragonborn unless they can shout. They could have been pulling some mage prank on us." The third guard speaks up and we turn to face him.
"FUS!" Nonvul shouts in my direction and I stumble. He smiles and the wind from his shout catches his traditionally cut brown hair.
I pull my hood tighter around my face and swear. "Damn you! I will shout your ass to Oblivion and back!" I belt out my own Unrelenting Force shout with all the words of power. Nonvul is sent across the plains and only stops when he hits the dead dragon's bones.
Even the dark elf tries to suppress a laugh but can't keep it in. "At least we know you aren't all talk and no play." The guards laugh and Nonvul marches over to me with his sword drawn. His figure looms over my own and I glare into his silver-gray eyes.
"You want to try that again little bitch?" Nonvul threatens through clenched teeth. It seems that I can't get away from being threatened at all today.
I draw my own weapon and hold it firmly against his own. "You have no idea who you are messing with." My voice matches his threatening tones and I stand taller. Our weapons are the only thing separating us from killing each other.
"Give me a hint before I slit your throat." He edges his blade closer but I push mine harder against his. This goes on for a bit before the guards break it up.
"Calm down. We don't need any spilled blood before you both see the Jarl. He will want to know who saved his Hold." The dark elf has a point and we both put are weapons away but not before me and Nonvul exchange death glares.
We follow the path to Whiterun and the ground shakes and rumbles under our feet. "DOVAHKIIN! DOVAHKIIN!" The quake stops and we turn our attention to the Throat of the World. "The Greybeards have called you both. It's been so long since that last happened." One of the guards remarks but we continue our trek to the walls of Whiterun.
The city welcomes us with open arms and Nonvul obviously isn't afraid to act on this admiration. He waves to the people and blows kisses to the women of his choice. They faun over him as we walk. He is handsome but this makes me want to puke. My presence is less appreciated by the folk but they can tell I am indeed a woman by my slender but strong form and my bust.
Our little parade finds itself at Dragonsreach and we are welcomed inside. Nonvul bows deep enough to touch the floor. Ugh. I bow my head in respect.
"So, these are the two warriors that defended my city?" Jarl Bulgruuf slouches in his throne almost disinterested. He eyes us both and calls for someone named Farengar. "We need a face for the people so take that cloak off miss."
The moment I've been dreading has come. "I'd rather not." I need to think of something quick. "I have a horrible scar that runs across my face." I hope he doesn't ask to see it and realize I lied.
Nonvul steps forward. "I could be the face for the people. It's obvious that I'm handsome enough." And it seems like he means it.
I pretend I'm choking. "What's wrong girl?" The Jarl inquires a bit worried but not enough to call for help.
"I'm sorry but I'm just choking on his overinflated ego." Nonvul glares at me. He gets ready to slap me on the back in a way that looks helpful from the Jarls point of view but painful from mine. I quickly pull his arms behind his back again and this time pin him to the ground. "Try that again and I won't be so nice."
The Jarl seems intrigued at my speed. "Get her some war paint someone and where is Farengar?" Bulgruuf shouts to one of his advisors and scurries away.
A man clad in blue robes and a dark blue cowl strides in. He pays his respects to the Jarl and then turns to us. "I have a proposal for you both. Either you can do it together or one goes alone." He looks for our approval before continuing. "I believe that the Dragonstone can help us defeat the dragons by showing their burial mound locations. The Stone is in Bleak Falls Barrow. Now, who wants to get it?" Farengar looks at us both expectantly.
"You mean this thing?" I pull out the stone and show it to him. He must be a wizard because his cloak is radiating magicka.
Farengar takes it quickly and hurries back to the side room. We all follow and he starts to scribble down notes.
"Do you always carry strange stones with you?" Nonvul asks and laughs as if he made a funny joke.
I roll my eyes but no one can see it. "No, but next time I do, I'll make sure to hit you over the head with it so you get the memo." Farengar and the dark elf both laugh and Nonvul turns an angry red. I hear a noise and the servant is back with the war paint.
The man seems timid. "Who is the war paint for?" Bulgruuf shouts "the girl" and the man seems to shrink. He gives me the jar and scurries away like before.
I open the little jar and dip my fingers in the gooey paint. Blood red. "Someone point me to the bathroom. This paint isn't going to apply itself and I'd rather do it alone." A guard points in a general direction and I walk away from the group. I close the door and look at the facilities. A tall slab of blurry mirror, a basin, a rag, and a bucket over a hole that seems to go down forever. Great.
The mirror is a bit too blurry so I try my best in rubbing it clean. Some of the sheen peeks through and I decide it's good enough. I pull my hood off and clean my face. Then I apply the paint. I slather it across my face in marks that look like bloody wounds and wipe my hands clean with the rag.
My face still looks recognizable but that's just how I see myself. Maybe no one will know who I am. But what will happen if they do? I would surely be overwhelmed by the guards. Maybe I should think of a new identity. My new name could be something like Terra or Sarahbeth. A slight rapping pulls me out of my train of thought. I look at the mirror again and my face looks like it's bleeding. Why did they choose red?
I pull the door open and walk back to the side room. My bloody looking face startles some of the guards. Maybe red paint does have an upside. Silently, I nestle back in with the small crowd around Farengar, now including two guards, Nonvul, Jarl Bulgruuf, the dark elf, and myself.
"I need more time to translate this. You both should go see the Greybeards. I heard them calling." The wizard comments without looking up, obviously absorbed in his work.
"Yeesh. Did you fall down the stairs or something cause your face looks bloody." Nonvul says unpleasantly and everyone turns to look. Great. An audience.
I flip my hood back up. "The servant gave me blood red war paint." It looks like they don't recognize me and I seem to be in the clear. I lean against a post but no one speaks. "I'm not going to see the Greybeards. I don't think they'll want someone like me in their home. So, I'm going to go scout the area." I look for approval and I walk off.
"This could be the chance of a life time. You shouldn't refuse their summons." The Jarl speaks like he's jealous. Well then maybe he should make the trek up the mountain.
Nonvul starts to speak in a rude tone that seems always reserved for me. "Let her go on her scouting mission. She'd probably blow the Greybeards' mountain up."
I continue to walk and only turn around when I crack the door open. "I'd rather not have to be Nonvul's babysitter." The door creaks closed after I swiftly leave Dragonsreach. I run down the streets and to the double doors that are opened when I approach. My mind is racing and so are my legs. At sundown, I reach Eldersblood Peak where I find a small crevice and settle down for the night. Tomorrow, I think I'm going to fly.
The light burns my eyes as I crawl out of the dark crevice. My back hurts a bit and my muscles are stiff. Not my best idea. "So," I start to talk to myself because it seems lonely up here. "how do I turn? Must be like beast form or something." My mind goes blank and I begin to change. The same bone breaking sounds and burning flesh smell appears again. It's only a moment before my large golden wings are back.
This form is powerful, unforogivinging, and reckless. I take to the skies with more grace than yesterday. The wind is nice and the view is amazing. I glide swiftly through the air and follow the paths around Whiterun from the sky. There is a temptation I have because I can fly.
With swift beats of my wings, I climb higher into the sky. Above the cities, above the clouds. And then I fall. It's like free form diving but without water. At the last possible second, I spread my wings back out to avoid impact. I feel alive with no concerns or bounties on my head. I feel free.
My fun stops when I see Nonvul. He is almost at High Hrothgar, blood is dripping from his sword and arm. I look behind him and see his trail. A frost troll lays dead with its head severed. I fly over Nonvul and roar. Then I land, blocking him from the Greybeard monastery. I give him a toothy dragon smile and he stares speechless.
"Meyz ahst dovah, Nonvul!" I doubt he knows that I told him to come at me but the look on his face is priceless. Nonvul is still staring and I fly away to Eldersblood Peak. I shed my skin so to speak once I arrive and I start my hike down the mountain. All I can think about right now is the look on his face. It was a bit mean to scare him like that but he's been rude. So have I.
I follow one of the beaten cobble stone paths and find three warriors hacking away at a giant in the boundaries of a farm. My weapon is drawn and once again, I charge into battle. The axe slashes at the giant's legs and he goes down for good.
"That was some good fighting. You would make an excellent Shield Sister but that is not up to me. You should talk to Kodlak Whitemane in Jorrvaskr." One of the female warriors says to me with approval. She and her other fellow warriors pass, the only male tells me I should join.
I wait till they've walked out of sight and then begin to follow their path to Whiterun. My arrival is noted and the guards open the doors for me. Some of the citizens give me the cold shoulder because of my dark cloak but I don't let it eat away at me. I've felt worse. I maneuver my way around and walk into a shop.
"Welcome to my shop! See anything you like?" The owner doesn't treat me with coldness and I sell a few of the gems I found for decent prices and I buy some refined Ebony, leather, leather strips, and a daedra heart that I haggled for . "Do you plan on making armor?" The shop keeper inquires when looking at my purchases.
"Yes." Is all I give him and he seems reluctant to ask anymore. I leave with my goods and ask to use the forge in town. They say okay and I get to work right away. When I finish, the blacksmith, Adrianne Avenicci, comments on my work. "I had time to train by myself for a couple of years." I explain as I finish strengthening it for good measure.
The armor is special. I spent weeks on the prototype until I could do it right and fast. Ebony is heavy but by layering leather behind a thinned piece, it becomes light and strong. I fashioned the armor to curve with my body and move with it. It has a hood that drapes over my face like the other and the armor is sleek and strong. Best of all, it's black. Better for sneaking.
With the left over ebony and my expensive daedra heart, I create a bow. I could have made a new sword but my need for a bow was greater. The weapon is harsh and powerful looking but that's the way it should.
My new armor fits well and doesn't drag me down because it is lighter. I spend the rest of the day and night at the Bannered Mare, the day I spend contemplating on joining the warriors. The night, I spend sleeping and warding away new nightmares. My mother's death plays over and over until I can't take it. I wake up and see that it is about six in the morning.
The offer I was given yesterday still should be good. I think I might join them. Might as well do some good before I die.
Author's Note:
This chapter seemed to drag on. haha get it "dragon" Surprising turn of events. Not really. I have plans that will make you go crazy. They're making me go crazy. I need to write this faster to get to them. Mwahahaha...
Nonvul: "Hey author! What's with my stupid name?!"
Author: Rolls her eyes. "I could have named you Mulhahdrim. I was going to, so shut up. It sounded weird so I named you Nonvul."
Hunbrii: "What's my whole point? I'm a girl with no family. People on both sides of the war are trying to kill me. I have no friends. I turn into a dragon that is really confusing. I'm a smart ass, no help there, Nonvul hates my guts. I kinda deserve that. People think I'm creepy. And what's with the freaking cloak?! Are we playing dress up because I'd rather not! I think you're crazy."
Author: "Well then. Someone needed to vent their problems. Answer those questions yourself. You could try to be nicer to Nonvul."
Lydia: "Am I even going to be in this story?"
Everyone at once: "GO BACK TO S.H.A.T.! You don't appear yet."
S.H.A.T. is an inside joke. It stands for Skyrim Housecarl Academy of Talos.