Sechrima: Could have sworn that I'd specifically looked up the spellings, but anyway, thanks and I've changed it on all the chapters now, Aela's ancestor will be popping up again, then later on Aela herself is going to meet him and be all 'woah, your *that* guy' and ect. Timeframe is 4E129, going into 4E130 in this chapter, just a few years after Winterhold collapsed, something Harry may or may not have caused. The timeframe is actually quite annoying, like I have no idea who the High King is at the moment, Torygg's father was Istlod, but we have no information on his predecessor.

Mike: Didn't realise about the runes, literally googled 'rune language' and looked at the first page, sorry about that, but I don't think it changes anything in particular, just imagine that Skyrim *does* have a blank one

Mike/Sechrima: Pleased I'm getting the balance right, thanks for the feedback/advice

Moss: Yea, basically, so look forward to epic swordfights and magical duels.

.5: Nah, not yet, or for a long time, Siva is really quite young by Dunmer standards.

ssg1: Mostly the Warlord Chronicles, especially the shield wall fights and the details of longships, Fyrdraca is clearly an awesome name for a ship. Well done for noticing.

Makurayami: Meridia and Nocturnal will definitely be appearing, but not Jyggalag, as I believe he got killed/banished/separated/somethinged at the end of the Shivering Isles DLC for Oblivion. But various Aedra/Daedra will be popping up, Daedra in particular, its like their thing to mess about with mortals, its literally what they do, but some of them don't like messing about as much, eg, you have to recover Meridia's beacon before she talks to you, similarly, Vile cant manifest himself at the moment because he's still recovering from the Umbriel incident. I might be wrong on the Jyggalag point, feel free correct me if I am.

Fyrdraca slipped through the dark waters off the cape of Hjaalmarch, guided by the light of the Solitude Lighthouse, a flickering glow in the west.

Harald was at the tiller, leaning slightly to the right so that the ship would turn left, he heard the wood creaking as the sails twisted around to greet and embrace the north wind, sending them quickly along the Karth River into Solitude's port. Harald wished they had come in in daylight so he might have seen the rocky promontory some of Solitude was built on, as it was he only saw a shadow passing across the stars and a few torches high above the water, the lights inside the houses of the inhabitants of the city.

The ship glided into dock, small waves being pushed along by the bow. Calls of greeting came from the dock and were answered with thrown ropes. Strong men reeled the ropes in and the ship rocked and listed to the right as it was hauled alongside the pier. Harald touched his Talos amulet in superstitious thanks and jumped off the ship onto the dock, the wind pulling his sealskin hood off his head and blowing about his braids.

Three guards with the red wolf of Solitude on their shields escorted an official up, he was a short man, possibly an Imperial, and held a slate in his hands, ready to record their particulars.

"Fyrdraca and two ships under Thane Harald of Winterhold, cargo of furs, precious metals, oil and other trade goods." He answered to the officials questions, indicating his ship and the others moving into dock.

There was indeed furs, oil and metals in the holds of the ships, but the ebony was absent, stored safely in Harald's pouch at the behest of Savos, who had argued that as Solitude was home to the base of the East Empire Company, they should not overly advertise that they had holds full of valuable loot from another base of said Company. To make up the weight difference he filled the holds with rocks instead, and locked the doors to stop anyone from investigating.

There had also been some plans in the back of Harald's mind to make use of the Gemino Charm to replicate the trade goods, making them duplicate and therefore being able to sell more of them. However, he knew first that the other Nords would consider this stealing, and therefore not go along with it, but also that in time duplicates disintegrated, which would harm his reputation in future deals. Furthermore, he just didn't need the money, the ebony would sell for a high price, time had been generous in raising the price and in Dawnstar, where they had stopped to pick Haestan up, Harald had heard rumours of an Ebony shortage in the Empire, raising the price phenomenally.

Of course, if he flooded the market with the odd metal in the first place, the price would go down massively, so he was planning to either sell it in pieces via a broker he would hire, or if no such institution existed, he would sell it to a single person to allow them to re-sell it themselves, leaving him with sufficient amounts of gold to pursue his interests.

Just before they started out of Windhelm he had remembered to investigate a Word Wall rumour in the area, leaving Siva asleep in the inn after he carried her back to her bed he quickly made his way to Bonestrewn Crest, a small hillock in the middle of an area of hot springs and foul, sulphur filled air, Harald had hated it but made his way up the path to the top of the Crest, he went through the normal affair of standing in front of the Wall and absorbing the light, through his new but limited understanding of the Dragon Language he read that the Wall had been set up in praise of 'Bard Lunerio', but he could make nothing more of it. That Wall gave him the Word 'Frost', and as he made his way back to Windhelm he considered the Words he knew currently. He had Ice and Flesh from Saarthal and Mount Anthor, and now he had Frost, he did not know if these Words were the ones that made up a single 'Shout' or if they were part of two or more Shouts, the first two seemed to belong together, whereas 'Strength' was clearly a different Shout altogether. Siva was not happy to be left behind but after Harald told her about the conditions of the trip she relented and they made their way north, setting a faster pace as the land was not familiar to them.

Harald thought a great deal as they walked, their pace leaving little breath for speech. He wanted to build up a base for himself in preparation of the 'Powerful Enemy' Wulfharth's runes had spoken of, Harald himself was a powerful individual, but only one man, and he needed a support and information network, an organisation he could rely on to help him.

Atherian magic (his term for magic that derived power from the plane of Atherius) could help with this, and he had begun his instruction with the Arens, taking theory lessons from Savos, and the practical aspects from Siva. The siblings were not masters of their art, but were excellent for learning anyway, Savos being particularly skilled in Alteration and Illusion was instructing him in the so called 'higher arts', the more complicated spells, whereas Siva taught Destruction, and how to reduce his enemies to literally piles of dust.

His own Magic, which he had not thought of a name for yet, was now working. As soon as he returned to Winterhold he had felt a painful twinge from his arm, he prodded it several times, finding that the Wand was fully 'integrated' having being broken down and passed around his body. He was ecstatic at this, and pausing only to throw his possessions into his home he sprinted off toward Saarthal. Covering the distance in record time he ripped through the covered doorway and blurred through the dead city, not bothering to open the doors before running through them, and instead blasting through levels and through to the Eye of Magnus. He had touched the surface and jumped inside the sphere. This time it only took him a brief single day to reorder the magical pathways around his body; he re-routed the blocks and dams that he had set up, allowing his magic to flow freely out and into the world.

His primary focus would be his left arm, as that was the arm he had put the Wand into, but he would be able to theoretically be able to direct magic through any limb, but with less effectiveness. Harald tried casting spells, and steadily worked his way through the Hogwarts syllabus, sending curses and other powerful spells at the Eye itself to 'recharge' it after his modifications to his body.

He had known in the beginning that his enhanced body wasn't sustainable or viable over a long period of time, for want of a better word, it 'short circuited' no matter how much power he pushed into his limbs to move faster or stronger his muscles couldn't take it, and if he continued along that route they would rapidly wear out or snap entirely. However, even if he was no longer Superman, he was still Captain America, being a paragon of human genetic development, rather than being superhuman. That would certainly suffice for his needs, whatever they might be.

Magic had come in handy on the first stepping out from Saarthal. While he had been inside manipulating the building blocks of creation, a blizzard had picked up. Harald had tried slogging through the snow, using his arms to dig his way out of the sheltered crater or gorge the entrance to Saarthal was in, but then he heard a small voice in the back of his head.

Are you a Wizard or not?

He laughed, but instead of a simple warming charm he swirled his hand around above him, conjuring forth a long whip of fire, sweeping it around him like a gymnast in that odd event at the Olympics that consisted of swirling a ribbon on a stick about. Harald gleefully whipped his way through the blizzard till his arm got tired, and he got lost. Instead he cast the rather more discreet Warming and Imperturbable Charms, as well as a Point Me spell to get to Winterhold.

Harald veritably bounced along after this, happily striding along the road, the snow melting instantly into slush under his footsteps, the slush sliding of his feet without wetting them.

As he neared Winterhold he dismissed the spells, it would look suspicious otherwise, and he walked back in. Several people called out to him, and there seemed to be preparations for some celebration going on. Harald looked on this oddly, but then questioned one villager about it, learning that the 'New Life Festival' was only days away.

Tamriel's calendar was surprisingly similar to Earth's, there were twelve months, four seasons, and some of the festivals, such as a midsummer celebration, were the same. One could tell the time of the year by the month's name, much better in Harald's opinion. For instance, First Seed, was homologous to March, and was the first time one could seed one's fields if you were a farmer. Or that Sun's Dusk was when the days became shorted in the lead up to Winter. Though Nords as a rule did not have much reckoning for numbers or dates, they did know when the annual parties were. For example, most Nords did not know their birthdays, only knowing that it was 'at the start of spring' or 'Midsummer' this made for a beneficial arrangement, mening that a person would announce their birthday, and people who liked them would bring them presents, in fact, this was one of the only occasions gifts were seen to be socially acceptable in Skyrim.

Harald soon learned that it was Christmas. The constant snows of winter in the north had thrown his reckoning off, and apparently he was expected to bring gifts. Several random people who apparently knew him gave him trinkets, the best of which was a mammoth carved from ivory given to him by a small, fair haired child of indeterminate gender. Harald smiled at that, and picked up a branch from the side of the road, then transfigured it into a toy solider, and set it off marching alongside the child, who's eyes widened till Harald thought they might pop out.

As he had walked along the main road of Winterhold he had visited the various people in his social circle. After thinking more about wanting to acquire an Arcane Enchanter he walked across the bridge to the College, he didn't necessarily need the enchanter, but it seemed to supercharge his spells, giving them greater potency and duration. To that end he visited the Arch-Mage, who gifted him with a complete set of the Songs of the Return, a series on Ysgramor's flight from Atmora. Harald truly looked forward to reading these and gave the Arch-Mage a branch of Gubraithian Fire, bewitched to burn forever more, regardless of situation, even in water or a vacuum. That done and the old fellow eagerly investigating this wonder Harald was free to use the enchanter.

He patted himself down for small objects to enchant for his friends, Winterhold having few gift shops. He found a drinking horn, an interesting rock he had picked up, several other miscellaneous objects and a bolt of cloth which had mysteriously appeared in his pouch, Talos knew how that got there. He decided to give the horn to Haestan, bewitching it to have an unlimited supply of Nord mead, no doubt the man would be pleased with that.

Then he went to Savos in the Hall of Attainment and gave him the enchanted staff from Saarthal, and conjured several bouquets of flowers in Siva's cell when he didn't find her there. Not in a romantic sense, but he knew she would appreciate some colour in the almost solidly white landscape of Winterhold; flowers were a rare sight in the north of Skyrim, it was just too cold.

He visited the Jarl's longhouse and put sharpening charms on all his weapons to the wonder of the court. This gained him much respect from the Jarl and Housecarls, they already knew him for an honourable warrior so they were not put off by his use of magic. Some types of magic were more widely accepted than others, Destruction for instance was seen as 'honest', whereas Illusion and Alteration were seen as cheating by most Nords. However, as Harald was only improving the weapons of the people, as well as making little things for children, he was seen in much the same way as a good smith, one who reinforced armour and weapons with his craft.

So after waiting for the celebrations to finish Harald entered the thirteenth decade of the Fourth Era surrounded by his friends and admirers in the Jarl's longhouse. There was much merriment, and the next morning he had to go round up his crew for the journey west to Solitude, most were hung-over, but the sea air and breeze invigorated them and most had time to rest on their benches, as the wind was favourable.

Around halfway, after Haestan was picked up and presented with his gift Harald had gone down to make a full inventory and poke around for anything interesting in the hold. Down there he had found the Companion he had taken to Solstheim, sprawled in a nest of furs. Carrying her upstairs they had dangled her over the side of the boat to wake her up, dunking her head and shoulders in the sea water.

The wrath of Yvette of Whiterun was indeed fearsome, as three men found as they were punched into the sea. Luckily Harald was waiting with a rope and cast it over, hauling them back into the ship. As it turned out Yvette had a similar constitution as most men and had gotten rascally drunk and passed out in the hold, having hung about Winterhold to get her cut of the loot. They had laughed off the fight, and Yvette had spent most of the journey regaling her fellow Nords with tales of Jorrvaskr and the valour of the Companions. Harald somewhat doubted most of these stories, having heard that once maybe the Companions were a strong force of great warriors, but now their numbers were reduced and they mainly operated as a group of paid thugs and brawlers. Somewhat disappointing really.

Regardless, Harald and Company walked up the wooden paths of the dock, then further into the city of Solitude, they booked rooms for the night, in an inn rather than in the sailor's bunkhouses on the docks. In the morning the city awoke and so did they, Harald dispatched the various members away to find buyers for the cargo, Haestan to the Blue Palace, where most of the rich folk would be, and the Arens who disliked being separated in unfamiliar settings to check in the various shops along the main streets of Solitude. Harald himself and Yvette went up to Castle Dour, the base of the Imperial Legion in Skyrim, there would perhaps be officers there who wished for specially made weapons or armour of the rich ebony. To this end they turned right just before the archway and progressed toward a smith, labouring away at his forge, hammer swinging in great arcs and coming down on metal that glowed red.

As they approached Yvette's face slowly broke into a smile and she crept up behind the smith and waited till he turned round, then shouted "Rollo!" and embraced him.

Apparently they knew each other, as 'Rollo' shouted in joy and hugged the Companion. Harald noticed both people had tattoos on their faces, Yvette's being four diagonal stripes in teal paint whilst Rollo had a starburst around his left eye.

"Always good to meet another Companion!" exclaimed Rollo, slapping Yvette on the back, staggering her slightly with his muscular arms.

That would explain it.

"Who's this then" asked Harald superfluously but for courtesy's sake.

"Rollo was an apprentice until a few years ago, he was my Shield-Brother." Explained Yvette.

"Everyone knows Gray-Mane's are the best smiths in Skyrim, they work the Skyforge after all," said Rollo, he had an accent Harald had not yet encountered, it seemed rolling in part, but also smoother, he sounded like a person from one of the older Holds but with Imperial influences on his speech. Harald did not know what the 'Skyforge' was, but assumed it was a particularly special forge in Whiterun, the smith continued, "but Gray- Mane's are Companions, and won't teach anyone but fellow Companions."

This conversation went on for some time, the two catching up on their doings in the past few years. It seemed Yvette was disappointed in Rollo's fascination with metals rather than beating up defenceless animals and wished to pursue a career in the manufacturing sector of Solitude's industry.

Harald was not that interested in their conversation, and only wanted to know which men to approach about the ebony sales, he got the information and left the two happily chatting in a tavern, and met up with the others near the Blue Palace at a small park. The sun was shining strongly by now and the Arens had removed their hoods, Savos was sitting on a rock, anxious to preserve his robes cleanliness, whereas Siva had thrown herself down on the grass and was happily ripping up some of the turf.

"So, what've we found?" asked Harald to the group.

"Most of the merchants don't have enough gold to purchase any large amount, but some of them might be good to sell to, there's a jeweller on the bridge who seems interested in crate or two, ore and ingots, to have as backing for his merchandise." Said Savos, looking in disapproval at his sister who had adopted her customary pose of lying on her front, her legs bent and swinging behind her.

"Not enough." Harald said, "We need to find a larger buyer, otherwise we might have to start selling the stuff singularly. I found the same in Castle Dour." He nodded at the grey battlements, "There's a few Praetors and Legates there who'd like ebony weapons as a status symbol, but aren't willing to buy the raw materials."

"The Jarl's steward seemed very interested." Put in Haestan presently as they all thought about the problem.

"Oh?"

"Yes, it seems the High King might be a buyer."

"You met with Utred?" asked Savos.

"No, his son Istlod." Replied Haestan, "I got the impression that the Crown would be very happy to be the saviours in the 'Ebony Crisis' as they're calling it from Black Marsh to High Rock. "

"Why can't we sell to who they want to sell to?" asked Siva.

"Because we don't know the people who they want to sell to in order to ease the shortage." Said Savos complicatedly.

"Connections, we don't have them." Summarised Haestan for her.

"Ah."

"So?" asked Harald, "What did Istlod say?"

"Well since the East Empire are now aware of us-" replied Haestan before he was cut off by Harald

"What? So soon?" Harald asked surprised.

"We heard about it as well, there are customs officials flocking about the docks, but since they can't find the ebony they have no proof." Said Savos smugly.

"Can't find it?" asked Haestan slightly worriedly.

"Indeed not," continued Savos, "The boats are filled with gravel and boulders," as the blood drained from Haestan's face at the apparent loss Savos reassured him, "I suspect the Thane had something to do with it, I discussed it with him yesterday."

Haestan looked relived, "Well as I was saying, Istlod doesn't want the 'Company's attention on the deal, so he wants it quiet like, otherwise they might tax us."

"You mean rob us blind." Commented Siva with a particular vicious tug on a daffodil.

"Just so," said Savos, "So we sell to the Prince and don't tell anyone about it, I'm sure he has collateral."

Harald saw the sense in that; Savos after all was a very logical elf, the opposite of his impulsive sister, and his advice was usually sound.

"He's not a Prince," Haestan pointed out, then looked at Harald, "You'll have to meet with him, as Captain."

Harald nodded, that would show the seriousness of the offer. "When?" he asked.

"Best to do it tomorrow." Replied Haestan, "Matters of State and all."

Harald scoffed, remembering what 'Matters of State' meant in Eastmarch.

Haestan raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I'm bored." Said Siva at length.

The Arens began to bicker, Haestan turning his laughter into a cough. Evetually they stopped and Harald noticed them all looking at him for direction,

"Folgunthur." He announced.

There was a silence.

"What?" asked Savos presently.

"One of the books we were looking through at the College mentioned an ancient barrow at the Foot of Solitude." Seeing Savos looking suspiciously at him he continued on, "It said there was a magical artefact there." He hinted with a smile.

Savos eventually agreed and they walked down the town to the long slope, then turning to board a small row boat they chartered. They had picked up Yvette and Rollo on the way. Rollo seemed somewhat reluctant to come along, but he did eventually when Yvette said she was joining them. It was clear to Harald that the smith was infatuated with Yvette, though she was apparently oblivious. Harald couldn't see it himself, Yvette was certainly striking, but personally he wouldn't have called her beautiful.

Rowing across the Karth River made the journey much shorter, otherwise they would have had to travel down to Dragon Bridge at least to cross there, that being the only roadway out of Haadingar. No doubt there was some secret passageway down from the Blue Palace, but obviously they were not permitted to wander about in the seat of government. As it turned out Folgunthur was reasonably easy to find, the riverman they'd hired would wait for their return, and pointed them in the direction of the 'old barrow' away southeast of Solitude, coming to the barrow they saw a recently occupied camp, reading from an anonymous journal Savos informed them that someone had been carrying out research in the area.

The entrance was an arch of rock, architecture similar to Saarthal's and the barrow under Raven Rock that Harald had visited before. The door was of the same dark metal as he had encountered before also, and going inside the party lit torches and magelights, while Harald put a Night-Eye charm on himself to see in the dark. This turned out to be unnecessary, as they lit age old torches and braziers as they progressed. First there were large metal adornments covered in carvings, and several chandeliers which Siva lit with her flames.

They found many dead Draugr inside, and this puzzled them. They walked through another archway, and came to a larger hall with a stone table, some corpses seated at it like they were still eating. Here Draugr came to life again and they had to fight them off, but it was fairly easy, each party member taking one of the sarcophagi and re-killing the Draugr before they could stand and fight.

Climbing a decrepit and quite dangerous looking spiral staircase they progressed along to find a Dark Elf in robes crouching over a pedestal. He sprang to his feet as they approached, drawing a dagger and holding it threateningly toward them.

"Who are you? Coming to steal my research!" he screamed, jabbing the dagger in the air at them."

Harald smiled bemusedly, clearly the elf was out of his mind, he looked sallow and his eyes had dark circles under them. "Just a stalwart band of adventurers." He replied cheerfully.

The elf looked at them suspiciously, then flung the dagger at Harald, the throw was off and the knife landed on Harald's shoulder handle first, rather than piercing with the blade. Harald barely moved as the others drew weapons, the mad elf had readied himself to cast spells when something whistled past Harald's head and an arrow sprouted from his neck.

"Well then." Haestan said, pushing though the group to riffle in the Elf's pockets, pulling out a small bag of money that threw to Yvette who pocketed the bag, a drawn bow in her hand. Savos picked up a satchel and looked through that as well, he brought out a book, a journal written in a spidery script.

"This was Daynas Valen." Savos summarised, poking the corpse lying against the pedestal, slowly leaking blood, "he acquired an 'Ivory Claw', look around for that in the bag Siva, from a collector in Bravil, and apparently learnt about a fragment of the amulet of the Arch-Mage Gauldur, who served Harald."

"Me?" Harald asked, looking up from the Ivory Claw that Siva had passed him.

"No, the High King." Said Savos, drawing his finger along the lines of the pages, the script being difficult to read. "so Valen was apparently quite mad, the last few pages are increasingly hard to read, the ink on this last line is still wet in fact: 'I have felt its power, calling to me, pulling at me. I will be the one to reclaim it, restore it, bear it out into the world once more. I must have it. I must!' So I assume if we didn't kill him someone else would have. Idiot."

"You've got a mean streak in you." Remarked Haestan from where he was kneeling.

"He was though."

"Fine."

Harald pressed forward, putting the claw into the three holes in the pedestal. He twisted it first to the left, and when that didn't work he tried the right. The lock gave and a bridge dropped over the gap.

"Draugr." Warned Haestan, standing and drawing his axe. Another arrow whistle through the air, catching the lead Draugr in the chest, the corpse snapped it off and staggered forward till Haestan sunk his axe into its skull, the sharp ebony cleaving it in two. The second Draugr, an archer shot and arrow at Harald, but he blocked it with his sword, then strode forward and chopped the archer's head off.

Further in Harald had to pull Savos back from being skewered with a dozen sharp spikes that shot out of the walls after he stepped on a pressure plate, but they swiftly made their way through the dungeon, killing any awakened Draugr that popped up. Haestan discovered a set of levers that opened a set of gates. When he pulled one lever a gate would open but a different one would close. Harald soon solved the puzzle, having seen its type before and they made their way down a slope, and, narrowly avoiding a cave-in went in through a door into another chamber.

Savos pulled a chain and Harald had to yank him back again to stop him from turning into a pincushion.

"Stop touching things." He growled at the Dunmer.

Solving another puzzle, consisting of rearranging a set of triangular stones with pictures on them, Harald lead the way down another staircase, being briefly plunged into darkness as the mages renewed their lights. Rollo had picked up one of the Draugr's swords and was examining the grain of the weapon, no doubt being interested in it on a professional level.

The bottom level was under a few inches of water, but they sloshed through, several spiders waited below but Yvette dispatched them from a distance before they could try to poison the group. Then, at the end of a long tunnel they were ambushed by more Draugr, who jumped arthritically out of their coffins and attacked them. Forming a line the group pressed forward, the Arens taking the flanks while Harald held the middle, they pressed the dead soldiers back, sustaining no injuries and came to another door.

As Harald worked this puzzle out he briefly considered his current abilities, he was only strong now, and had no superhuman abilities, but he could still fight, perhaps even more effectively now that he had his magic was restored. He was using the Bloodskal Blade, the tunnels being big enough for its length and he wielded it like a hand-and-a-half sword, using two handed strikes as well as single chops in combination with his magic. The red energy waves sliced through the crowd of Draugr as he ploughed through their formation. Rollo started to pester him about it after the battle, wanting to learn more about the weapon but Harald kept his silence, the smith annoyed him.

Eventually he worked out that he had to turn the large rings on the door to the sequence on the Claw, then turn the Claw itself, this opened the door and all the symbols turned to a dragon in flight and the door lowered into the floor. They went forward into the true Crypt, heading through the tunnels and into a larger hall.

Suddenly cracks and tremors split the roof, sunlight streamed in, bathing the newly awakened force of Draugr in light. One particular undead rose from a coffin in the centre and raised its sword to Harald, seeing him as the leader.

Harald accepted the unspoken challenge and he engaged the Draugr lord, its strength was incredible, some ancient magic giving it might little to be believed in such a thin and atrophied frame. Behind him the Arens stood back to back, throwing spells at the marching corpses while the others were engaged in their single battles. Harald staggered back, the Deathlord's blade clanging on his block, he fell, something tangled around his ankles, he looked down and saw half a Draugr, sliced in two at the waist clinging around his legs, trying to bite him. Acting on instinct he overpowered a Banisher Charm to send it flying away, impacting with a crunch on the far wall of the chamber, taking another two with it.

Around him the battle was turning, the dead being pushed back, however the leader still menaced him, driving him back against a wall. But that was his mistake, as his back was pressed against the wall, the Deathlord's blade locked on his Harald started to hear the Song, he understood it now, and could hear it both translated and in the original, echoing around his skull. He roared the words as he struck back at the Draugr, bring his sword round in a whirl and pressing his enemy back.

Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago!

The Bloodskal went down on the Draugr's block, sending him backwards, Harald pressed the advantage.

And the tale, boldly told, of the one!

Each brief sentence punctuated not with grammar but with sword strokes, the Draugr scrambled back, its blue eyes still blazing with anger at it's disturbed rest,

Who was kin to both wyrm, and the races of man,

Harald spun and drew his weapon in a wide arc, the red energy destroying three of the Thralls, he had come away from the wall, but the Song continued.

With a power to rival the sun!

He thrust the sword through the ribcage of the Deathlord, the blue eyes turned red and the body exploded, sending dust everywhere, his enemy's sword clattering to the ground.

Slowly Harald lowered the sword, he was panting heavily, not out of tiredness, but adrenaline filled his body, that was the most challenging fight he had had so far, the sword seemed to be draining his vitality as the Draugr struck at him. His companions gathered around him in various states of amazement at the combat, having finished their own battles some minutes before. His older friends like Haestan and the Arens looked surprised, but not alarmed, whilst Yvette's face showed a similar expression, no doubt seasoned by her experiences in the Companions. Rollo looked completely out of his depth.

Luckily none of them commented on it, apart from a few strange looks Harald was left to search through the dust for a similar Writ as the one he had recovered from Saarthal and Jyrik Gauldurson, this one identified the pile of dust as Mikrul Gauldurson, and Harald also took his sword, storing it in his back. Another fragment of the legendary Arch-Mage's amulet Harald put that in his pouch also. He knew Savos' propensity of doing things he probably shouldn't, so knew that it would be bad if he had the amulet's power, that and he was a fairly selfish person, after all, he was going to be fighting a 'Powerful Enemy' so he would need all the help he could get.

Unlocking a gate he walked up another set of stairs, and to the Word Wall he had heard. He absorbed the word, more easily this time and felt 'Cold' chime in his head, falling into place alongside 'Frost' from Eastmarch.

Haestan walked up and opened a chest, throwing Harald a pouch of gold, whilst he gave the other pieces of loot out to the others, the Arens got a pink crystal, Rollo got a large elegant sword, and Yvette took a green, brutal looking metal bow, and Haestan a pair of bracers which he donned, discarding his previous leather ones.

They arrayed themselves in their new equipment, shouldered their loot and followed Harald out the Wall chamber, through a tunnel, then waited while he kicked down the lid of standing sarcophagus. Using the Claw one last time they scavenged more gold from a trapped chest and left the dungeon. Harald was pleased to not they arrayed themselves in a natural formation around him for the boat without him having to tell them to, Haestan walking by his side as his lieutenant while the Arens flanked them, Yvette ranging ahead and Rollo bringing up the rear.

They boarded the boat as the sun rose to its zenith and slowly made their way back into dock at Solitude.

"Say it again!" insisted Haestan in a daze the next day.

"197,160 Septims."

"Say it again!" ordered Siva this time, bounding up and down on the grass in her excitement.

"197,160 Septims" Harald repeated indulgently, raising his glass of expensive Colovian Brandy to the group.

There was a roar of approval from the gathered crew and alcohol flowed like water, the sale had been immensely successful and all were happy.

There were 12 ingots in a crate, there were 53 crates in the small fleet, and that meant that they were selling 636 ingots to Istlod. At the standard price a single ingot would fetch 150 Septims, but it was not a standard market, the 'Ebony Crisis' had raised the price enormously and Istlod had been persuaded to buy at 310 pieces each. This meant that the price for all the ebony they had aboard was 197,160 Septims.

It was a mind boggling amount; they could have brought the three largest manors in Solitude as well as everything in them for the amount.

This sum was divided up of course, but it was still a fortune for the average man on the fleet. Winterhold was a poor town since the collapse, and their little adventure to Solstheim had revitalised the town immensely.

Harald himself would receive 65,720 Septims as Captain's cut, a third of the loot, whilst his officers, the Arens, Haestan and Yvette (whom he included in hope of retaining her services in a more permanent arrangement) and two other men who had distinguished themselves would get another third, each individually having 10,953 Septims each, along with any loot they had themselves, such as Haestan's axe or the crystals and books Savos recovered. This then meant that the 72 crew, not including the officers, would each get 913 Septims, as well as the countless jewels and other things they had picked up from the town as Harald was making his way through the bowels of Raven Rock. Harald thought this arrangement was somewhat unfair, as he was receiving a ridiculous amount, so he paid for the drinks and food for the crew for their stay there, as well as accommodation. However, this barely made a dent in his wealth, only accounting for a thousand Septims so far, and probably would only account for another thousand in the next few days they stayed in the Capital. This amount was more than made up by the countless gems that Harald had purloined from the Mine's strongboxes on their way in, no one else being able to break the locks.

So, in short, Harald was now fabulously wealthy.

He passed the evening away in a happy buzz, he was now more susceptible to alcohol, and he found he enjoyed the way the brandy warmed, but after the first glass he had no more of it, not wanting to pass out somewhere and someone to steal all his money. His metabolism still burned it off fast, but he didn't want to test himself just yet. He also found he required much more food, his magic was no longer completely sustaining him, it could, if he used no spells, but as he was a Wizard this would not be happening.

Later the next day he went to the Palace with his entourage and delivered the goods.

They walked along the wide green avenues leading to the end of the rock bridge the more upper class district was set on. They passed one large building from which a cacophony of music was coming.

"Bard's College!" yelled Haestan over the din and they hurried on, hands over their ears till they put several houses in between them and the aspiring musician's school.

The Blue Palace was an awe-inspiring monument, it was very ornate and bore some features typical of French or early Italian Renaissance building that Harald had visited on Earth. It also has Romanesque features such as the large domes instead of slanted roofs and some Gothic in the case of the ornamental battlements. Harald was most impressed, he had found the Palace of Kings, ostensibly the royal abode of the High Kings of Skyrim to be cramped and its walls oppressive, this was much more what he would expect from a King's Palace, though it was somewhat too stylised for his taste, if this and Castle Dour were crossed together it would have made the perfect building, towering walls surrounded by a mighty wall, speaking of both strength and refinement.

They were greeted inside the courtyard by a young man in rich clothing and a green half-cape who conducted them inside.

"Pelandor, personal steward and attendant to the Jarl's son." He introduced himself as they walked.

Pelandor took them to a large suite, a circular room with a balcony facing south. On the balcony another man sat, the steward signalled for them to halt, and approached the seated man and whispered in his ear. Pelandor then returned and escorted Harald to waiting seat.

"Harald of Winterhold?" the man asked.

"Of Atmora actually, but living in Winterhold." Replied Harald, the man hid his surprise well, "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Istlod of Solitude?" he asked.

"Indeed, I had not been able to place your accent." Replied Istlod, clasping Harald's arm.

Harald decided he liked Istlod, he had honest eyes, he stayed silent, then glanced down at a fruit bowl on a table set next to Istlod's chair.

"Pears in Skyrim?" he asked, holding out a hand and floating the fruit over to him.

"We have several glass-houses in the Palace, I prefer the oranges, though Pelandor is partial to grapes." Replied Istlod, taking an orange. Pelandor smiled and gave a little bow. "Please." the Jarl's son said, waving a hand at Harald.

Harald thanked him and took out a small paring knife from his belt and cutting off a slice of the fruit. He bit into it, releasing the sweet taste of the fruit flesh but the tart, almost sour taste of the skin. It was most excellent all the same, and he said so. Istlod thanked him kindly and offered a bunch of grapes to his steward, who declined.

"I would prefer to make the payment in several instalments." Said Istlod, "My father has not given the Treasury's permission as I have not informed him of the sale, therefore I am using my own vaults to finance the transaction."

"Most respectable, to use your own money." Noted Harald, throwing the core and stalk over the balcony. He felt the man's standing go up in his opinion, he was very young, but astute.

"I have 70,000 Septims in a room in the Palace, will that be suffice for the first payment?" Istlod asked.

"Certainly." Replied Harald happily, "I will give it to my men, myself and my subordinates can wait for their shares."

"Most respectable yourself." Istlod toasted, handing Harald a goblet of wine. He sipped at it, a fruity and smooth taste. "To look to the welfare of your men before your own."

Harald thanked the man for the compliment, "I shall deliver my entire shipment at once, however, I would be pleased if you would make another payment of at least another 60,000 soon, as I will have to pay my officers." He said, gesturing to the group on the other side of the chamber.

Istlod nodded magnanimously, "I will borrow from the Treasury then, the payment will be made later today, after your investiture."

"My investiture?" asked Harald.

Istlod waved the question off, "What of yourself? No doubt you would like to complete the deal?" he asked, goblet held aristocratically in one hand.

Harald wondered about the previous comment, but brushed it off, "I have money already." It was true; he did have a great deal of money, even without the sale of the Ebony he would be counted perhaps not as rich, but certainly well off.

At that moment Pelandor, who had apparently departed without Harald noticing him, returned, he whispered in Istlod's ear again and the Jarl's Son stood.

"They are ready for us." He remarked, and gestured for Harald to follow him.

Siva sent him a questioning look and he shrugged at her. His retinue fell in with him, and they followed Istlod out of the southern wing of the Palace, across the courtyard and into a different wing. It was still pleasantly bright and the sunlight streamed in through the tall narrow windows that covered the walls of the place. Inside was a small entrance hall with a guard at the end who saluted when he say Istlod, the floor was tiled and carpeted in part and they ascended one of a pair of staircases that lead up to the High King's Throne Room. The room was draped in banners, either the dragon of the Empire, or the Wolf's head of Haafingar and Solitude.

Utred himself sat on a slight dais in a wooden throne, much like the Jarl's Throne Kjark sat in. Perhaps they ordered them from the same place. The High King and Jarl of Solitude wore an impressively embroided set of ceremonial clothes, they were a sort of long jacket in a pale blue with black fur trimming the collar and similarly made trousers and other clothes. A shaft of light shone on the dias.

There was a woman speaking passionately in the middle of the room.

"My King," she said, "the people need aid!"

Utred looked stern. "If the folk of the Rift will rebel against their Jarl it is not my place to interfere in their affairs."

"But the grain stores are burned and Lake Honrich is polluted with ash." Said the woman.

"Hosgunn Crossed-Daggers governed justly and rightly, in accordance with the laws of the Nine Divines."

"He was a tyrant! The Jarl kept raising the taxes and putting them into his own coffers" raged the petitioner, her eyes streaming with angry tears. "If you will not help us I will find a real Jarl who will!" She spat on the floor before the Jarl and then she stomped away, rushing down the stairs.

As the court reordered itself after the woman's outrage Harald leant over to Istlod.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Some woman from the Rift, the people there had rebelled against their Jarl, who was in fact a tyrant, regardless of the 'just' nature of his rule. Most of the city burned down but my father refuses to send help their way." Istlod explained angrily, seeming to be worn down by the callousness of his father.

"Send them ten thousand out of my cut of the ebony." Said Harald, he himself could not go to Riften, as he was busy, but he could help the people in other ways, he had found that giving money was often the only way of helping disaster relief without exceeding one's jurisdiction.

"Really?" said Istlod, turning full to him.

"I am a simple man; I use my sword to solve most problems." Harald said slapping his hilt, "Yet if I cannot use that I will use the gold I won with it."

Istlod clapped him on the shoulder excitedly, "If you can wait another month I can match that sum, and maybe send a Legion contingent to keep the peace."

Harald nodded, Istlod was impressing him, the man seemed not to have been smothered by the bureaucracy of Imperial influence, but worked with it, however he still kept the deep held honour of the Nordic people. If he succeeded his father he would be a good King.

"Harald of Winterhold and Istlod of Solitude." Announced a herald to the chamber.

"I know my own son." Grumbled the King, but beckoned them forward.

Still not actually knowing what this was about Harald walked forward in step with Istlod. They bowed in concert before the Throne, giving no supplication but acknowledging his high status.

"At my son's recommendation for services to the people of Solitude and Haafingar I award you the rank of Thane of Solitude, take now this blade and use it to protect the people as you fulfil your duties." Said Utred, waving a steward to proceed with a scabbard and sword.

The steward handed the sword to Istlod who buckled it around Harald's waist, Harald bowed to the King, then left with Istlod, they came outside the Palace where Harald's group were waiting, seeing the sword Rollo congratulated him on his new rank. The rest of course wanted a look so Harald drew it and handed it around. It was a steel longsword, well-forged, though not apparently by Rollo. There was a stencilled 'Haafingar' written across the blade on the fuller, picked out in gold filigree that ran down the blade to the hilt and pommel, which ended in a wolf's head, carved from ivory. Harald liked it immensely, he had been wishing for the type of sword he had trained with, a longsword, like the Sword of Gryffindor. The Bloodskal and his paired ebony swords were good for certain situations, notably taking on crowds of enemies, but the Bloodskal was not easily used alongside allies, as the energy waves might hurt them as easily as the enemy, while his disliked the ebony swords because they were curved, also because they required a style of fighting relying on great speed and agility, whilst he had these traits he could not hammer through his blows, and instead slashed and stabbed at the enemy.

The Blade of Haafingar on the other hand would allow itself to be held in a single hand, casting spells with the other, it could slash, stab and hack at an enemy and Harald was eager to try it out.

Istlod passed the sword back once the group had all tried a few swings with it.

"I assume this was your idea?" he asked as he sheathed the blade.

Istlod smiled, "It was, my father wished to know why the Ebony Crisis was suddenly solved, after I told him he wanted to reward you, as he could not think of anything I suggested a title, it should ease your dealings with the citizens, and generally make your job easier."

"My job?"

"You adventurers generally have some kind of purpose, I have no doubt Solitude will be seeing you again, perhaps not soon, but eventually, and adventurers generally serve good, I also serve that cause, in my own way." Said Istlod.

Harald grinned, he extended an arm, hand open. "Friend?" he asked.

Istlod clasped the arm, his grip was sure and strong and they released, "Friend." The Prince confirmed.

Harald had an idea. Though most of Solitude had been infected with the more cosmopolitan ideas, Istlod seemed to hold true to some of the Old Ways. He took one of the rings from his arm, a gold one, and gave it over to Istlod. The Jarl's son looked solemn and slipped it over his arm.

"Come visit sometime." Said Istlod as Harald turned to leave.

"I will." Harald called back as he walked off, turning and raising a hand.