Companions 3.6

The sky was getting pink hues when we reached Whiterun. I saw Lucile look around in curiosity and smiled. The only other city-hold I had visited was Windhelm and I much preferred Whiterun's warmth. I handed her some Septims so she could buy clothes at Belethor's and headed to the Skyforge. Luckily, Eorlund was still there.

"Harry." He greeted me. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah. Say…" I handed him Rael's blade. "Could you repair it, please? It belonged to my predecessor, the True Dragonborn. Since I am replacing him, I think it would be fitting I used his blade, but it's not exactly in a state of being used."

Eorlund took the blade and gave it a good look.

"Hmm, an Akaviri katana, the kind traditionally worn by the Blades, the protectors of the Septim dynasty. I had the chance to work on these a few times. This one doesn't look too damaged. It shouldn't take me more than a few hours to restore it, though I think some reinforcement with Skyforge steel will do it good." He turned to me. "I was going home, so I will handle the repairs tomorrow. Come see me in the afternoon, it should be ready."

"Got it."

Next step, Dragonsreach and my bed. I was asleep until dinner.

§ § §

As promised, it didn't take long for Eorlund to repair Rael's blade. He even reinforced it with Skyforge steel to make it stronger. Now, it wasn't on par with Dawnbreaker, but I made it my main sword nonetheless, with Dawnbreaker as a sidearm against whatever it couldn't pierce.

It was then that I quickly realized something: katana and regular swords weren't used the same. Being thinner and having only one edge, Rael's blade simply didn't move the same way as Dawnbreaker, and I felt downright clumsy wielding it. And, as my luck would have it, none of the Companions knew how to use it either.

"Don't you know someone?" Aela asked.

"Yes, Delphine. But the two of us are at odds, something fierce. She'll never accept to train me, not after what happened at Kynesgrove."

"So you're stuck."

"I could try to develop my own fighting style but, frankly, I don't think this is a good idea. If only I had, say, books about the Blades' fighting style, then maybe…"

"Doubtful. When the Thalmor went after the Blades, they left no survivor. Your predecessor is proof of that."

I decided to stick to Dawnbreaker until I found a solution.

One week after Gallows Rock, Skjor returned, as healthy as ever. His missing arm prevented him from wielding a heavy weapon, but he didn't care and trained hard to get used to his missing limb. As he explained, his balance was off and he needed to overcome that. We gladly helped him. The day after his return, I got a letter from none other than Ulfric himself. He had an issue and, even though it wasn't related to dragons, it wasn't related to the civil war either and he needed my help to solve it.

There was a serial killer in Wildhelm and he wanted the man caught.

"I'll help him."

"Are you sure it's wise, Harry?" Balgruuf asked.

"Yes. I want to protect Skyrim, and not just from the dragons. Ulfric helped me in Helgen. What happened to Kynesgrove hasn't paid that debt yet. This will. And besides, he's dealing with a serial killer. Someone has to stop that guy and Windhelm's guards can't seem to do it. I will."

Balgruuf shrugged.

"Then go ahead. I won't stop you." A smile crossed his face. "You have a heart of gold, kid."

I smiled and, Hedwig on my shoulder, I teleported to Windhelm. The city was just like last time: black, white and grey. The sky was clouded, but it wasn't snowing. It had snowed last night, however, if the piles of snow were to be believed. I shuddered and tightened my coat. I far preferred Whiterun's warmth.

I headed straight to the Palace of Kings. Ulfric and Galmar were still there, as was Jorleif, the steward. Ulfric smiled when he saw me.

"Harry. Does your presence mean you got my letter?"

"I did, Jarl Ulfric. So, you got a serial killer running free, am I right?"

"Yes, and not enough men to catch him. I thought you could help."

I nodded and came to the throne. Galmar crossed his arms. Apparently, he still didn't like me much.

"If I didn't know of your prowess, I would question the wisdom of setting a child on the case. I know you're not ordinary, and quite skilled with a sword at that, but I still don't feel at ease."

"Free of you to watch over him." Ulfric retorted. "Personally, I have faith in Harry's talents. He will find our man. And if the killer finds him first…" A predatory grin crossed his face. "I don't see him having better luck than a dragon."

I couldn't help but smile.

"It's alright, Jarl Ulfric. I appreciate Galmar's concern. Good to see there are places where adults worry about children getting in over their head. But you're also right. I got my sword, I got my spells and I got the Thu'um. And I got Hedwig as well, so I don't fear a surprise attack."

Hedwig barked happily. Ulfric nodded.

"The corpse was discovered in the graveyard. It would be best if you started there. It happened not an hour ago."

"Very well."

Hedwig and I headed to the graveyard. Indeed, the corpse was there. I recognized her. It was Susanna, one of the maids at Candlehearth Inn and she had been literally eviscerated, for a lack of better term. One of the guards turned to me.

"What are you doing there, kid?"

"It's alright. I'm here on behalf of Jarl Ulfric. I came to help with the investigation."

The guard gave me a disbelieving look.

"Fair enough. If the jarl trusts you…"

"So, where should I start?"

"Try asking the people around if they've seen anything. Who knows? Maybe we'll get something this time…"

We had no suck luck. The murder had no witness. Calixto Corrium the adventurer, Helgird the priestess and Silda the Unseen, none had witnessed the murder. They had only heard screaming and come to see. The guard wasn't happy about it. Then Helgird cleared her throat and we turned to her.

"Actually, there is something I noticed. It is about the corpses."

"What did you see?"

The priestess cringed.

"It seems some parts are… missing. As if the killer had taken bits of its victims before leaving."

I froze.

"What was taken, and how much?"

Helgird frowned.

"Let me see… I haven't counted the exact number, but I'd say around a dozen tendons and ligaments, nearly two hundred bone fragments, several bucket-fulls of blood, a few spoonfuls of marrow and about a dozen yards of skin."

I looked at Helgird, then at the guard.

"…The Butcher is a necromancer."

The guard gulped.

"I'll inform Jarl Ulfric at once. A serial killer is one thing. A necromancer? That's a whole Oblivion-damned different story. Especially right within the city."

As she ran, I looked around for any clue I could find. I got one in the shape of a trail of blood that led right to a house. A guard informed me the place was called Hjerim and had last belonged to Friga Shatter-Shield, the eldest daughter of Tova Shatter-Shield. When I tried to pull the door, it was locked.

"Try asking Tova or her husband, Torbjorn. I think I saw them at the marketplace."

So I went. Torbjorn was an elder man in rich clothes, looking at the stalls.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

Torbjorn turned to me.

"What do you want, kid?"

"I need the key to Hjerim. I'm investigating the Butcher and blood marks from his latest victim led me there."

"Hjerim, you say?"

"Yes. Your… Your daughter used to live there, right?"

"Right, and this is why I'm coming with you. A child, investigating a serial killer! The jarl wants you dead or has he gone insane?"

I put a hand on Dawnbreaker and shrugged.

"I've survived dragons."

"Still doesn't sit right with me. Come on."

Hjerim was empty and dusty. Torbjorn stayed by my side as we explored the place, a hand on his warhammer. We found nothing on the second floor, but the first floor yielded a diary, a series of leaflets and a strange amulet, a jade skull on an ebony pendant held by black leather. The closets had yielded nothing, so I leaned against one… and yelped when the bottom slid to reveal a hidden room.

"The Oblivion is that!?"

Torbjorn peeked inside.

"Looks like an altar… with a necromantic ritual in process."

I nodded.

"Helgird noticed the corpses all had parts missing, as if someone had harvested them. Marrow, blood, skin…"

I noticed a diary and took it. It was there. The body part list and the incantation. I took the first diary and read through it.

"Yeah, the Butcher is indeed a necromancer. He was after Susanna for a reason: her tendons were interesting." I turned to the altar. "By the looks of it… he's trying to build a body from scratches? And then use necromancy to bring it to life?"

"What kind of perverted mind can think of… of doing this?" Torbjorn breathed. "This is an abomination. This is against every single law of nature and magic!"

"Agreed. I'll need to inform Jarl Ulfric, and maybe even Wuunferth. He's a mage. He is bound to know some things."

"And what tells you Wuunferth isn't the culprit? I heard things about him…"

"I know him." I retorted. "He taught me some Destruction spells. I don't see him dabbling into necromancy."

I saw Torbjorn nod slowly. We left Hjerim and, while Torbjorn waited outside the Palace of Kings, I came to get Ulfric and Wuunferth.

"The Butcher… is a necromancer, you say!?"

To say Ulfric was shocked was an understatement. He seemed downright disgusted.

"We found his diaries and working place in Hjerim. Then I found this."

I showed them the jade pendant. Wuunferth held it.

"This… I heard about it before. The Necromancer's Amulet, which was said to belong to Mannimarco the King of Worms. A powerful artifact. Jarl Ulfric, what the boy says is right. This is graver than we thought."

Ulfric growled.

"A serial killer is not the same thing as a necromancer. Galmar was right, I should have sent someone with you."

"Torbjorn Shatter-Shield was with me." I reassured them. "We investigated Hjerim together."

"Right, his daughter was the first victim. But do we have a clue about the necromancer's identity?"

"Not one." Wuunferth said as he looked through the diaries. "But… Give me a moment. Let's see, the first murder happened… Yes. And the second… Yes. Yes, I think I got the pattern. If I'm not mistaken, the next murder should be tonight, at the marketplace."

"The murderer won't show if there are guards." Ulfric thought. "We need to lay an ambush. Wuunferth, do you know who his next victim will be?"

"No."

"Then we'll have to act in complete discretion. Neither the necromancer nor the victim must be aware of our presence."

Hedwig puffed her feather. I grinned.

"Torbjorn and I will wait at nightfall. If that murderer shows up, we'll be ready."

"Good."

I was late in the morning. This meant I had the time to visit Windhelm. When I had first come there to warn Ulfric of Kynesgrove's attack, I had just gone to the Palace of Kings and Candlehearth Inn. I headed to the marketplace, both to scout the area and to look at the stalls. Not that I needed anything, but I didn't mind some window-shopping once in awhile.

The Grey Quarter was on the other side of the city, and the place where the Dunmer lived. The narrow streets full of snow and worn-down buildings reminded me of a ghetto. Rolff Stone-Fist, Galmar's brother, was here spewing insults at the population. I hated that man and, for a moment, considered introducing him to my fist. I decided against it. I was strong, but not enough to win a fistfight against a grown adult. Not yet.

"Would you like to buy a flower?"

I turned to the girl by the gate, a small brunette in a red dress holding a flower basket.

"Of course. Thank you."

I bought her a blue lily. This made her smile. I also wandered the docks, watching the Argonians work with the cargo. I took a moment to observe them. I had never seen Argonians, lizardfolk that the Men and Mer considered beastkin along the Khajiit. The green scaly hide, tail and the horns made them look strange.

I was about to leave when one of the Argonians tripped and fell, losing the crates she was carrying. I came to her side and gathered the crates.

"Are you alright?"

Her knees were bruised. A burst of healing magic later, there wasn't a scratch.

"Thank you." She smiled. "It is rare to find a kind hand among the men of this city."

"I'm not from Windhelm. I'm from Whiterun. Glad I could help."

I was about to leave when I noticed one of the Argonians was giving me a weird look. I almost asked him what was wrong before deciding to ignore him.

He was the one who called me.

"You were kind to Shahvee."

"I'm a healer." I shrugged. "I'm kind to anyone who needs it."

"I wish more people were like that… Did you say you were a healer?"

"Yes. Why?"

The Argonian hesitated. After a moment, he invited me in their home, the Argonian Assemblage.

"You said you were a healer. One of us is suffering from skooma withdrawal. I'm not asking you to cure him, but… would you know a way to alleviate his pain?"

Skooma withdrawal? I knew a good healing potion could counter the drug if taken right after. In this case, I would need more than that. I hurried to the White Phial, Windhelm's alchemy shop, and borrowed the lab to brew a potion that was part Health Potion and part Antidote. Somehow, I noticed, practicing alchemy was funnier than potion making. Maybe it was due to the two arts being different, or maybe it was due to the fact Farengar and my other alchemy "teachers" being otherwise different from Snape. I had no idea.

I returned to the Assemblage. The Argonian, who introduced himself as Scouts-Many-Marches, led me inside. On a bed was an elderly Argonian in rags, shivering like a leaf despite being bundled in blankets.

"This Is Stands-In-Shallows. He is one of the oldest of us, and unfortunately for him, heavily addicted to skooma. These days, he can barely muster the strength to leave his bed…"

I knelt to his side. Stands-In-Shallows turned to me.

"And who… Who is that? A smooth-skin… Nordling? Scouts, what is he doing there?"

"He is marsh-friend, Shallows. He brought you medication."

I held his head. The scales felt slightly crumbly under my fingers. The old Argonian slowly sipped the potion, and I could see him relax. The pain was fading.

"You look like you live in squalor." I mumbled as I looked around.

True enough, the Assemblage was old, cold and wet. Scouts shrugged.

"The Nords don't pay us much, but at least, we got enough to eat and the lodging is free. This said, I wouldn't be against a raise… Torbjorn Shatter-Shield doesn't pay us nearly as much as he does the Nord workers."

"Torbjorn Shatter-Shield?"

"Yes."

A smile crossed my face.

"Well, lucky you, I know him. And if things play correctly tonight, he will owe me one for finding his daughter's murderer. I will tell him then."

Scouts smiled warmly. I left the Assemblage and headed to Windhelm proper when I met Rolff. The drunkard was glaring daggers at me.

"You… got a problem?"

I so wanted to punch his lights out… Focus, Harry. Focus.

"You listen here, you lil' lizard-lover…"

He called me a what? Alright. That does it. I was still close to the docks and his breath reeked of stale mead. I grabbed him by his shirt, dragged him to the wharf and kicked him in the water.

"Talk to me again once you washed your mouth from that mead, jackass!"

Racist asshole. I saw the Argonians and several Dunmer laugh at his predicament. Well, at least some people were having fun.

Finally, the night fell and I hid at the marketplace along Torbjorn and several guards. We waited, patiently, waiting for the murderer to show up. Around midnight, he did. I hid a gasp.

"Calixto!?"

"I knew the man was weird." Torbjorn muttered.

He wasn't alone. Viola Giordano was also there, humming to herself as she walked between the empty stalls. Calixto couched, dagger in hand. We readied our bows and Torbjorn took his warhammer. We were all about to strike when a little girl walked on the scene. I recognized her. It was the flower girl from that afternoon.

"What's going on?"

Several things happened at the same time. All attention briefly focused on the girl. Calixto, seeing his chance, lunged at Viola who reacted one second too late. His dagger tore his stomach, but for a regular woman, Viola was still surprisingly fast. Her own dagger went straight to Calixto's throat and opened it. Both collapsed in a pool of blood as the guards peppered Calixto with arrows.

The murderer was dead, and Viola was slumped against a stall, hand on her stomach.

"Had an inkling… he was the killer." She winced. "Been following clues… Been looking close. Pissed him off… on purpose, so he'd target me. Was ready… or so I thought."

I looked at the wound. It was serious. She was nearly eviscerated. Even with my magic, I doubted I would be able to save her. The flower girl came closer.

"Is she gonna die?"

"Most likely." Viola frowned. She was already pale. "His dagger… went deep."

"Well I won't let you! You're nice! You always buy me flower! I won't let you die!"

We looked at each other. As far as I knew, the little girl was just a flower seller. What could she possibly do?

Then I noticed the blinding golden light surging, swirling around her. The bright glow of Restoration magic. It was raw and unfocused… and it was enough. The little girl sent the golden wave over Viola, who shrieked under the pain. But, when the light faded, there was only a nasty scar left.

"That…" A guard uttered. "Was unexpected."

"Just a flower girl, huh?" Torbjorn grinned. "Sofie, when did you learn to do that?"

"Never. It's the first time. I just… I just didn't want her to die."

This caused more than a few gasps among the guards.

"Mother of all healing spells!"

"Talk about natural talent!"

"I've seen mages awaken their powers less roughly than that!"

We still took Viola to the Temple of Talos for a check-up, and took Sofie along. I grabbed the key to Calixto's house, intent on looking into it when I got the time. As it was, Viola didn't need much treatment. Sofie's awakened magic had done a solid, if a bit too rough a job. Upon hearing of her magical talent, Jora and Lortheim took her in without a second thought.

"Who knew the little flower girl by the docks had such powerful Restoration magic! From eviscerated to but a nasty scar! That kid has a gift!"

"So… I can stay with you?"

"Of course." Jora smiled. "You will live with us at the Temple of Talos. We will help you train your magic. Such power doesn't deserve to be wasted, and healing magic is always sought out."

Viola and Sofie were in good hands. I went looking into Calixto's house, wondering if there was anything of interest.

I found it. The last of Calixto's diaries. In it, he explained why he had committed the murders and dabbled in necromancy.

All he wanted was to bring back his sister. I gave the three diaries to Ulfric as proof and was allowed to take whatever I found interesting in his house. I thus laid claim on some rare alchemical supplies, Ysgrammor's soup spoon (a fork!), a handful of soul gems for enchanting and a nice-looking flute. The book was completely blank, however, so I left it where it was. The label called it the Book of Fate and the incident with Riddle's diary was still fresh in my mind.

I considered using the map to teleport back in Whiterun.

I should have. I really should have.

Instead, I chose to enjoy Ulfric's hospitality and sleep in the Palace of Kings. The next morning, I decided to travel by foot and joined a Khajiit caravan. There were other people with us: an Imperial messenger, a couple of Mara worshippers and an Argonian out to see his family in Solitude. Only me, the messenger and two of the Khajiit were fighters.

Disaster struck as we passed Valtheim Towers.

There was no warning of the attack. One moment we were passing the towers, the next the Argonian had taken an icicle in the chest. The door burst, and out came a Thalmor battlemage, Bound Sword in hand, going straight for the messenger. The messenger dodged the blow and opened his throat, but another battlemage shot him with an icicle. Several others got the couple and the Khajiit warriors while a member of the caravan tried to jump in the stream. Three Bound Arrows pierced its back. It was swift. It was ruthless. It was professional.

More Thalmor came from the tower. I blasted them with Unrelenting Force and drew Dawnbreaker, a healing spell in hand.

"Go find help!" I told Hedwig.

Then I thrust my sword in one chest, the Daedric Artifact tearing through the armor like wet paper. I hid in the tower, knowing being on the road made me a sitting duck. They came to me, out to kill me. I didn't have time to think, to wonder why they were trying to kill me. All that mattered was that they were out for blood and I wanted to live. So I did, and gave in my dovahsil.

What happened afterwards, I don't really remember, only a blur of red and gold, the sound of steel through flesh and the growing ache in my body, muted and throbbing.

I later learned the Companions found twenty-five Thalmor corpses at the tower. All but one were my doing.

§ § §

The Companions were lunching in Jorrvaskr when Hedwig flew in, her feathers all ruffled, exhausted from her swift flight and the fear of losing her partner. Aela caught her.

"That's Harry's pet." Athis noted. Where is the whelp? The two are never without the other."

Hedwig barely took the time to catch her breath. She jumped on the table and barked violently, her face the definition of panic. Farkas looked at the rest of the Companions.

"I may not be that bright, but I think the whelp's absence plus his friend looking like she saw Alduin can only mean one thing: he's in trouble and she went to get help."

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that ensured. Hedwig flew to the entrance and barked several times, calling the warriors to join her. Kodlak starred at the owl.

"Gear up, Companions. The Dragonborn is in danger."

None lost time grabbing their sharpest weapon. As one man, they left Jorrvaskr and Whiterun, following Hedwig all the way to Valtheim Towers. What they found left them speechless.

There were corpses everywhere, most of them the mangled bodies of Thalmor battlemages. In the middle, standing on his knees, was a lone teenager holding a sword with a glowing hilt.

Harry raised his head. Ria nearly jumped and even Vilkas winced at the boy's forlorn look. This was the face of someone who had gone through Oblivion and back. Harry breathed.

"More?"

More? More of what? Then the Companions saw him rise, painfully, using Dawnbreaker as a support. Then he held the sword both-handed and charged.

Farkas reacted, drawing his broadsword to block the blow aimed at his midsection. The Daedric Artifact left a noticeable dent in the Skyforge blade. Farkas pushed him, forcing Harry to stagger back. Though his face was forlorn, in his eyes shone a fierce determination. The boy wanted to stay alive, and by Akatosh, he would.

"He cannot tell friend or foe." Aela understood. "To him, the battle still rages on."

"Farkas, knock him out." Kodlak ordered. "Of all the people to suffer battle-frenzy, he was the least I expected."

Farkas nodded. Harry charged again, Dawnbreaker raised high. But it was a faint. In his free hand, the glow of an electric spell could be seen. Farkas grabbed the sword-hand by the wrist, endured the electric shock in the stomach and punched the boy square in the gut. Harry, his stamina running already thin, doubled over and fell on his knees, Dawnbreaker clattering at his side. A solid knock on the neck took him out.

"Vilkas, Aela, Skjor and I will stay here to handle the bodies." Kodlak decided. "Everyone else, return to Jorrvaskr. Farkas, take care of Harry. Njada, warn Balgruuf of what happened. Harry is his protégé. He'll want to know."

Farkas took Harry in his arms. Hedwig, ever dutiful, perched herself on his shoulder. While the rest of the Companions returned to Whiterun, the four werewolves examined the scene.

"This was a massacre." Aela uttered.

Sjkor knelt and traced the wounds on a Thalmor.

"This was made by Dawnbreaker. The sword is a Daedric Artifact. There's little save Daedric metal that can resist its edge, so flimsy elven steel? No bet."

"Some were burned." Vilkas noted. "And not by a fire spell. These scorch marks are the same as when Harry uses YOL, the fire breath."

Among the pile, Kodlak found the remains of the caravan – the Khajiit, the messenger, the worshippers and the Argonian.

"Most were killed with Icicle Spears and Bound Arrows. The Thalmor, however, were killed by a Daedric Artifact and the Thu'um. All but one, who was killed by the courier."

"So, Harry was with a caravan, they were ambushed by the Thalmor and Harry killed them. Is that it?"

"Looks like. We'll need Harry's word once he recovered."

"Still." Aela frowned. "Why would the Thalmor do that? This was an Imperial messenger, and the worshippers worshipped Mara, not Talos. And the Khajiit… Why would they target the Khajiit?"

They went through the Thalmors' belongings. In one pocket, Aela found an order.

"Well, isn't that damning! Elenwen herself ordered them to kill Harry."

"Well she failed!" Skjor grinned dangerously. "Somehow, the whelp managed to kill all of her goons single-handedly! Underestimated the power of a Dragonborn, now has she?"

"But why?" Vilkas asked. "Why did she do that?"

"Because Harry can permanently kill dragons, and Elenwen wants the dragons to stay alive to wreck chaos across Skyrim. She needs our land off its feet, and Harry, per his powers and status, acts as a stabilizing influence. She wants him gone."

To say none of the Companions were happy with it was an understatement.

"Tell me why I shouldn't go to the embassy and wreck everything there." Vilkas growled dangerously.

"Too rash." Kodlak retorted "The Thalmor would retaliate and this isn't something we can afford right now. We would be playing straight into their hand. I say we let Ulfric and Tullius handle it – after telling them of the ambush, of course. Ulfric values Harry and even Tullius is aware of how useful his talents are. Once they hear of the Thalmor's plans, they won't be happy."

"In the meantime." Sjkor looked at the corpses. "We need to dispose of those knife-ears."

"True enough. A funeral pyre should do. As for their victims, we will bring them to Whiterun."

And here is the next chapter. Blood on the Ice: done, with Sofie the flower girl taking a page from Aerith's book. I know it's cliché, but I couldn't help it, heheh. Also, the Ambush at Valtheim. I'll let the battle scene to your imagination. And, finally, Harry being Harry with the Argonian dockworkers. Yeah, he forgot to talk to Torbjorn.

So, how was the chapter?

For the reviews:

- AnimeA55Kicker: there are buckets in tiny rooms. That's what serves as toilets. Check places such as the mine south of Riverrun.

- Bakh: he doesn't use HP magic because he doesn't have his wand. Harry has nothing from the HP world save for Hedwig and his experience. Don't worry, next arc will see the return of his world into the picture...

- Disruptor: lore-wise, Auri-El and Akatosh are the same entity, so anything related to Auri-El is also related to Akatosh - and and the Dragonborn as Akatosh's Chosen One.

- Swordhalfgun: I'll think about it. I already have my own Shouts ready.

- Anonymous: not Paarthurnax, but other dragons...

- NoxraaTorgan: Harry will be an exception thanks to the bargain. Bargains, more than worship, are crucial to thieves, and it includes their patron deity. The part of using Harry for political gain is... a bit complicated. To sum it up, it crossed Ulfric and Tullius's mind to use Harry's status to legitimate their claim over Skyrim. On the other hand, they are aware Harry isn't too fond of either of them due to Whiterun and Helgen respectively, and then there's Balgruuf to watch over him, so the idea is right out of the picture. Harry will end in a position of power, though, but only through his own actions. Finally, yes, the other Divines and Daedric Princes will help him. Meridia already did by gifting him Dawnbreaker and comforting him. The others will do the same later.

- Guest: I wrote a fantasy novel once. Never found the courage to have it published.

- GUST: the Amazing Bouncing Ferret will catch Hermione beating the living daylights out of an unbound Daedra and quickly back tf off. And let's not forget Ron's Bigass Ebony Battleaxe... Somehow, I always pictured Ron with a sh*t-eating grin and a big axe. "I'm fed of being the sidekick! Let's kick their ass!"

- Guest: he was drunk.

- Pirouette Prisoner: no pairing. No Animagus (though the most logical would be dragon). Werewolf at the end of the Dawnguard arc, and because it's this or dying from vampire bite. Dragonborns are only draconic in the soul, not the body. Yes.

- Guest: Helgen happened on the 17th of Last Seed. This chapter occurs on the 16th of Frost Fall... Yup, two months. And dragon interactions are happening more in next chapter.

- Golanth2008: third person is when Harry isn't narating and allows us to know what happens in-between narations.

- Jimbo Jones: Harry will be introduced to Dawnguard by being there during a vampire attack and seeing someone nice be killed. Revenge ahoy! As for Serana, I always assumed she was in a kind of stasis spell in that vault, hence why she wasn't blood-starved. Illusion spells would work on him, but being partially dragonic and naturally strong-willed... they better hurry before he breaks out. Delphine and the Blades will eventually find a new path. Just in his chapter, Harry was attacked by the Thalmor and he needs someone to teach him how to wield a katana... Count a year before Sovngarde. The mead hall in Sovngarde is called the Hall of Valor and, unless very special circumstances call for it, it's Nord-only. So the scene you talk about can't happen but the story won't lack in funny moments as a whole. Now for the other diseases... I don't know. Maybe.

- hunter81095: Harry isn't anything right now, simply questioning, which is perfectly normal.

And... that's all for now. See you soon !