The Way of The Voice

We entered the monastery and saw several hooded figures approaching me.

"So, a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age," one of them said.

"I'm answering your summons."

"We will see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice."

"Fus!" I shouted,

"Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"I want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn. "

"We are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you."

"You mean I'm not the only Dragonborn?"

"You are not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age... that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say."

"I'm ready to learn."

"You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen."

The Greybeards taught me the word, "Ro", which translates to balance, and "Wuld" which means "whirlwind". I was quick to master both words, much to Arngeir's surprise.

"Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is... astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..."

Thank you. What's next?

"You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

Why are the dragons returning? Does it have something to do with me?

"No doubt. The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident. Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the dragons. You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear."

Thank you, Master. I will continue my training.

"Good. Then you will be ready for whatever lies ahead."

"What does it mean to be "Dragonborn"?"

"Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice. Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities - whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries. What you have already learned in a few days took even the most gifted of us years to achieve. Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need. We will speak more of that later when you are ready."

"Why are Shouts in the dragon language"? "Dragons have always been able to Shout. Language is intrinsic to their very being. There is no difference in the dragon tongue between debating and fighting. Shouting comes as naturally to a dragon as breathing or speaking. In mythic times, when mortalkind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted us the ability to speak as dragons do. For most people, long years of training are required to learn even the simplest Shout. But for you, the dragon speech is in your blood, and you learn it almost without effort."

"There are only four of you?"

"Five. Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives alone on the peak of the Throat of the World. When your Voice can open the path, you will know you are ready to speak to him."

"How come the others don't talk?"

Their voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the way to withstand; even a whisper could kill you."

"Who was Jurgen Windcaller?"

"He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice, or Tongue. After the disaster at Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat. He finally came to realize that the gods had punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice. He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the gods, not the glory of men. Jurgen Windcaller's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born."

"But I don't follow your philosophy. Why help me learn the Voice?"

"The Dragonborn is an exception to all the rules - the Dragon Blood itself is a gift of the gods. If we accept one gift, how can we deny the other? As Dragonborn, you have received the ability to Shout directly from Akatosh. We, therefore, seek to guide you on the proper use of your gift, which transcends the restrictions which bind other mortals."

Lydia and I made our way back to Ivarstead where I let Klimmek know that I delivered his supplies.

"Quite a climb, wasn't it?" he chuckled. "Anyway, much appreciated. Here, take this for your troubles." he handed me a bag of 500 septims.

That was when two strange figures approached. They both wore scaled robes and white masks with tentacle-like protrusions from them.

"You there! You're the one they call Dragonborn?" One of them got my attention.

"Yes, I am Dragonborn" I answered.

"Your lies fall on deaf ears, Deceiver! The True Dragonborn comes ... You are but his shadow. When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!"

That was when the mage launched a "fireball" spell at me, but it hit the boss of my shield and I thrust my sword through his chest.

The guards cut down the other mage.

With the danger over I found a note which read:

"Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Svanhild Frost-Blade before she reaches Solstheim.

Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased."

"Why would those people want to kill you?" Lydia asked.

"It seems that my gut was right," I replied. "What if there's another Dragonborn out there."

"Don't worry too much about it, Svanhild," Lydia chuckled. "You're a tough woman to kill, and that's without me watching your back. Now, let's get that horn."

We eventually made our way to Ustengrav where we fought our way through necromancers, frostbite spiders, and hordes of undead until we found Jurgen Wincaller's catacombs. To our shock, the horn was gone. In its place was a letter that read:

"Dragonborn-

I need to speak to you. Urgently.

Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

-A friend"

"Someone beat us here," I mumbled.

We made our way to Riverwood.

"Lydia," I said. "I think we should part ways for a while. It sure was a pleasure to have you with me. I'll let you know when I'd like to have you fighting with me again."

"Well," replied Lydia. "If you say so. I'll head back to Dragonsreach."

I entered the inn, and said to the innkeeper, Delphine: "I'd like to rent the attic room"

"Attic room, eh?" she smirked. "Well... we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home."

I made my way to my room and fell asleep on the bed.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about," Delphine approached me as I woke up.

"Would it kill you to knock?" I thought.

"I think you're looking for this" she handed me the horn. "We need to talk. Follow me."

"I'm heading back up to High Hrothgar. I'll be back shortly."

"Be quick. I'm not a patient woman."

When I returned to the monastery, I caught Arngeir meditating at the entrance.

"Ah! You've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Well done. You have now passed all the trials. Come with me. It is time for us to recognize you fully as Dragonborn."

The other three Greybeards arrived in the main hall.

"You are ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, "Dah," which means "Push.""

"Dah..." Wulfgar engraved the word into the floor.

"With all three words together, this Shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely. Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of "Dah."

"You have completed your training, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you. Stand between us, and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards. But you are ready."

That was when all four of them started shouting in the Dragon tongue and the ground began to rumble:

"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok."

"Dovahkiin," said Arngeir. "You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you."

What was that ceremony all about? Were you Shouting at me?" I asked.

"We spoke the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance. The same words were used to greet the young Talos when he came to High Hrothgar before he became the Emperor Tiber Septim."

What did you actually say?

"Ah. I sometimes forget you are not versed in the dragon tongue as we are. This is a rough translation: "Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath, we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."