Arenar's eyes glanced across the men standing on the balcony next to him. He recognized a few from the group Irileth deployed to the Western Watchtower ages ago. The others, fairly new (yet eager) soldiers, averted their gaze from his. They'd either seen or heard of Arenar's deeds in the Battle of Whiterun and heard of his tales as Harbinger of the Companions. It was better, they reasoned, not to say anything at all and to not hurt this hero's opinion of them.
Truthfully though, Arenar wished they weren't standing here with him. Their hearts were in the right place, but they'd just be more collateral. He knew how to fight dragons. Save for the two or three veterans, the rest were all green. Balgruuf insisted however and his word was final.
"We are ready when you are, Dragonborn," one of the veterans said. Arenar nodded and aimed his mouth to the skies.
"OD-AH-VIING!"
The guards instinctively pulled out bows and ran to the edge of the balcony, knocking arrows, eyes darting about the skies. Arenar stood in the middle of the balcony, swords ready.
A shrieking roar came out and there was a rush of wings. "Dragon!" muffled calls from Whiterun proper cried.
"I thought Balgruff told them to get inside!" Arenar cursed. Odahviing came swooping overhead, giving the balcony of Dragonsreach a once-over before spotting Arenar.
"Dovahkiin, here I am!" it said almost a little too pleased.
Arenar squinted and shouted, "JOOR ZAH FRUL."
As the first syllable left Arenar's mouth, Odahviing shuddered. As the rest left his lips, his wings began to falter and his hardened scales became like paper. His fall was quick and sudden, landing beneath the balcony. Sheathing his swords, Arenar jumped off, landing with a loud crunch his dragonplate armor barely protected against. He slowly stood on the Whiterun soil, pain coursing through his body, a hand raised and glowing with healing magic to push away the pain.
The dragon turned and snarled. "I can understand Alduin, but this! If you cannot fight a dovah as a dovah you have no honor!" it roared. Arenar stepped closer and pulled out one of his swords.
"I'm a dovahkiin, not a dovah." Arenar leveled his sword at Odahviing's head.
"It is one in the same."
"Odahviing, I'm going to ask you some questions. If you don't I'm going to kill you and keep calling dragons until I get answers I want."
"You really do not have any honor then."
"Where is Alduin?" Arenar pressed his blade to the dragon's temple, ready to stab.
Odahving narrowed his eyes. "You won't like my answer."
"Try me."
"Sovngarde."
"Last I checked, Alduin was an ugly lizard, not a Nord."
Odahviing brushed away the sword, some of his strength returning, and he let out a deep guttural laugh. "You've come all this way Dovahkiin and you still think it is so simple? There is magic in a ruin known as Skuldafn. It contains a portal to Sovngarde. Alduin is there, eating souls of your fallen soldiers. You can't kill him. He will be back."
Arenar shouted away Odahviing's strength. "Tell me where Skuldafn is."
"It doesn't matter where it is. It is impossible to get there if you are a human. Even if you try using your Thu'um, it will alert every dovah and draugr defending the place and within a league."
The dragonborn stepped onto the dragon's back, sword still pointed into his throat. "Then you are going to take me there."
Odahviing froze, confused. "Take you…?!"
"Yes." It was now Arenar's turn to smile. "If I can't get there, you'll take me."
The dragon laughed again. "And you think they will let me get that far?"
"You are Alduin's second, aren't you?"
"Was," Odahving said quickly and sharply. "Alduin has proven himself unfit to rule. I go my own way now."
"Alduin isn't going to take too kindly to that once he comes back after eating half of Sovngarde."
"Your point?"
"Help me help you. Take me to Skuldafn. I'll kill Alduin and save this world, and you for when he comes for his revenge."
Arenar sheathed his sword and Odahviing's wings opened. "You're a foolish man."
"I'm also a dovah at heart."
A low and annoyed growl left Odahviing's mouth as the two flew into the air and towards the north.
Odahviing finally landed, low in a fairly deserted and ruined part of the mountain. "This is as far as it is safe to go. Good luck, Dovahkiin."
Arenar nodded, pulled out his swords, and began the long walk up to the main temple. There was a loud roar and what sounded like a broken and cracked bugle. Suddenly, out from a single doorway, a legion of draugr armed in war regalia streamed forth and three dragons appeared from out of the sky.
He dropped his swords and pulled out a long and slender and disturbing looking staff. "Sweet roll," he prayed, aiming it at one of the dragons. The monster stopped in midair, shifting into a Dremora lord. The daedra let out a fierce war scream… that promptly ended when it fell to its death.
The first wave of draugr was nearing, Over and Deathlords, Ebony Greatswords of Freezing held high. Arenar turned to them. "FUS…" they began to shout.
"FUS RO DAH!" Arenar roared, knocking them backward.
"RO DAH!" They Shouted, their faces now pointed behind them. The entire line of draugr shuddered under the multiple waves, being thrown up the mountain.
The second dragon swooped in, Shouting down a rain of fire at Arenar and the fallen wave of draugr. Arenar dropped a hand from the Wabbajack to put up a basic ward. As it passed overhead he Shouted away the dragon's power. With a roar of surprise, it's flightless body plummeted into the ground a few miles below.
Arenar ran forward to meet the next two waves of draugr, still stumbling up and catching their bearings… and dropped weapons. "WULD NA KESH!" he yelled, driving the end of the Wabbajack straight through the head of a Death Lord. He dropped the weapon and pulled out two ebony daggers. The Dragonborn dodged and parried, ducked and covered, slashed and stabbed whenever the enchanted and ancient blades of the draugr were down.
The third and final dragon, glaring at the wave of death Arenar was causing, counted his blessings and flew away.
Out of breath and just a bit tired, Arenar took stock of his weapons and again readied his two swords. There was another loud horn call, and Arenar braced himself. This would be a long and tiring climb.
Arenar finished the long trek to the top of Skuldafn. Before him stood only a single floating creature, it's body covered in a tattered and rotting purple gown and a black mask covered it's face. "Zu'u uth nall thurri dein daar mirrak."
"Hin fen kos krent," Arenar growled out, the words in draconic appearing in his mind.
"Sosaal fah hin vothaarn!" The dragon priest raised his staff into the air and bolts of lightning shot out, hitting Arenar in the chest. He grimaced and steadied himself, trying to remember the words…
"ZUN HAAL VIK!" The dragon priest only laughed and brandished his staff closer, firing off another wave. Arenar leapt out of the way, turning to face the priest again. "WULD NA!" He darted forward sword rasied but only to be parried by the staff.
"Fent ni filok!" the priest hissed.
Arenar growled, slashing with the other. The priest parried and backed away, twirling the staff around, ready for another melee. But then, it laughed and floated above Arenar's head. "ZUN HAAL VIK!" it Shouted. Both of Arenar's blades flung from his hands and down the stairs leading to the top of the temple. "Hin lass los dii!" it cackled. It raised the staff again, making it clear the fight would soon be over.
Arenar picked up his bow and his free hand clasped an amulet of Talos around his neck. "Divines… SU GRAH DUN! TIID KLO UL!"
The air around them slowed to a halt, the priest not expecting such quick Shouts. Arenar pulled back an arrow, faster than the wind and shot it off, pulled another, and shot it off, aiming perfectly for the face of the creature. Time flashed back to normal and the priest shrieked as the arrows punctured the mask. The priest wailed and collapsed, dissolving into dust.
After retrieving his blades, Arenar searched the dust pile and uncovered the mask and staff. He turned the mask in his hands, feeling the power imbued in it. Whatever this thing was… it would be good to keep hold of it.
Lastly, he took the staff and brandished it at the portal he had seen the priest destroy when he reached the summit. The portal reopened and he dropped the staff, readjusted his knives and bow and swords, and walked into Sovngarde.
Author's Note: Ok, before I get any dislikes for Arenar raping and for me skipping most of Skuldafn... it's not fun to write or play. I'm not writing out what basically amounts to running around killing two Draugr and running thirty feet to kill the next two. That's no fun for me to write or you to read. Especially not when Draugr are just sad excuses for foes at that point. I've fought Daedra, multiple dragons, torn down an entire siege, and said "f you" to an entire city of Falmer. Viking zombies are a little easy at this stage in the game.
But I'm back now. Hi. Hi new subscriber people, new author alert people, old people of the above categories, and/or random viewers. I'm actually writing now. A new chapter should be out sometime before the end of January and I can start caring less about the main quest and caring more about making my story good and original and my title relevant again.
Please review if you like this or even if you didn't like this. Criticism lets me know what I'm doing wrong, praise me helps me do more good. Feedback makes both our lives happier. Drop a PM if you want too. I'm not picky. Anything at all helps me gets me to be a better writer and gets you guys a better story.
