I spent the rest of my time waiting for dinner with the Mormonts the same way I always killed time reading old history books. One of my favorite things in my youth, especially so was I became a man, was to try and unravel the nonsensical history of my homeland and try to fully understand it. For example, before Tiber Septim became Emperor Cyrodill was a dense jungle as recorded by Topal the Pilot. But as anyone who has ever been to the Imperial City can tell you the heartland is a lush forest with rolling hills and grasslands. Sure the area around Leyawiin is swampy and gross but it is by no means a jungle. Well supposedly Tiber Septim used the Thu'um to reshape Cyrodill into a verdant paradise for his seat of power. Even if I spent my life studying the Thu'um I can't begin to wrap my head around that idea to mold land and time so that a massive chunk of land was changed forever not only in the now but so it always was? Nonsense I tell you and yet the evidence is there.
No instead I spent time rereading the personal notes of Indoril Nerevar, a possibly falsified document released after the decline of house Indoril who after centuries of their power waning turned to the only one who could really help them. The Nerverine never officially joined any of the great houses from what I understand instead spending his time doing general busy work as a sellsword in order to build a reputation. While his work with the Blades was something that had not come out until his disappearance it did cause a bit off an out roar for a time. But nonetheless House Indoril did something mighty interesting. They gave the traditional holding of Lord Nerevar to the Nerverine who had to clear it out of bandits, smugglers and other undesirables before making it into one of the most profitable parts of mainland Morrowind. Low and behold treating Argonians and publicity denouncing slavery was a good way to leave your land (for the most part) left alone by raiders. Plus if the rumors were true then the House Neravar was a part of a long road of escaped slaves on their way either to Black Marsh or to Cyrodill. But the notes were simply a novelty that the hero of Vardenfell had found while repairing the main stronghold, a dusty old tome written sometime before the battle of red mountain still leaving the whole of the battle a mystery it did however shed light into the legendary General. It spoke of war from the Chimer perspective and the heartbreak and sorrow he felt in taking a life but the desire and need to protect his people and to stop the Dwarves from damning themselves. I have gone over these notes a thousand times and each time I do I wonder to myself. How could Vivec have been so egocentric in the role he played. Nerevar was an incredible commander of men and very rarely does he show the anxiety ridden boy who Vivec's own words and lessons portray him as. Not to mention the true and genuine love he held for his bride Almalexia. There were rough drafts of love poems in the notes that held such genuine care and love that it once more made Vivec look like a boy who couldn't write his own name. That made his death all the more bitter sweet I suppose. I personally subscribe to the idea that Nerevar and Dumak killed one another and in his dying breath asked his friend Voryn Dagoth to ensure that no one used the tools. And for a time he was loyal until temptation took his mind and he began to use the heart. The tribunal punished him but they too fell breaking their oaths to Nerevar. So when Vivec "murdered" Nereavar it was likely that he couldn't save him and blamed himself for his death. But then again that is my own hopeful theory that the same group of people who lead their people to a golden age also genuinely cared for their friend.
But soon the sun and the moon rose and fell and I found myself in a conundrum of fashion. I was wealthy and if I had desired it I could have bribed my way to the position of Jarl, maybe even high king purely on coin and my name alone. But here I was simply a large eccentric old man who was chasing old glory. This made me turn to my normal formal wear was something I had claimed from the battle of Winterhold. Ulfric had not dawned it at all during the war. A fine grey and blue fur overcoat covered a pair of dark underclothes that kept heat in well. I also switched between my classic cave bear pelt with its brown fur glowing pale with a frost resistance enchantment on it. Old and beaten it had helped me survive against the bone chilling winds of the throat of the world when I spoke with Paarthurnax but it was also so synonymous with my armor that it was physically attached to it and I didn't particularly want to go through the hassle of detaching it then stumbling home drunk and having to either reattach it drunk or with a hangover. So instead I go with a snow bear pelt.
After getting my clothing situation settled I headed back up to the main deck when I realized that I had no idea how to get to the young Jeor's home. Fortunately after a short while of trying to remember how to cast clairvoyance I heard the sound of a man yelling. Looking over the side I was once more greeted with the sight of that little fishing boat from the day before but this time it was only one guard and a small man. The guard was once more in gambeson, and chainmail a metal flat top sitting heavily on the young man's face. The elder however was more interesting. He was probably middle aged, a thin ring of hair going around his head, a large spot of baldness reflecting the moonlight. He wore heavy white robes that looked to have fresh brown stains near his feet likely from him coming to get me. The most interesting thing about him however was the heavy chain that hung around his neck. I couldn't see it well from where I was standing but they weren't all one metal. He looked up to me and gave a smile with only half as many teeth as there should be.
"Hail to you friend! I am Maester Portar of Bear Island and I've come to retrieve you for supper with the good Lord Mormont!" The man waved down a few times. I smile to myself thanking my luck and climb into the small boat carful not to shake it too much. The ride back was not nearly as quite as I'd like as Maester wouldn't stop asking questions about the bones on the ship. I simply told him to wait for the feast where I'd answer as many questions as I could bear. I gave him an eyebrow wiggle but he didn't seem to get the joke as he just began to hum happily to himself.
Bear Island was beautiful even as the sun began to set reminding me of Falkreath during the spring. We came eventually to a fort made of wood with men and women patrolling. Standards of the Mormont black bear standing in a forest just as Jeor described it. As we entered the courtyard I was surprised by how many people were there. By how Joer had described his family's holdings I had expected something similar to the orcish strongholds littered across Skyrim. A small but closely tied together group that had a single leader that guided them but indeed of maybe fitty odd people there were at least a hundred or so. Standing just in front of the main hold was Jeor once more in heavy furs but this time in a far nicer brown jerkin and pants with a small bear pendent pinned to his chest.
"Ymir! I'm glad you were able to come. My father and sister are exited to meet you come inside." I walk to him and give him a smack on the back causing him to stumble forward causing his men to chuckle. Jeor gives me a smile and we walked into the main hall. Simple wooden walls and a stone floor greeted us as we walked into the hall of bears the warmth of the hearth assaulted me. Shrugging off my cloak I look for a place to place it before a servant took it from me.
"Jeor!" turning to my left I see a short and stocky women. Long brown hair that was wild and untamed. A breastplate that was a size too large and a long chain shirt that seemed more like a dress then a shirt hanging at her knees. "Where were ya today? We were supposed to train and none of the servants would stop and find ye what the seven hells is going on?" Looking towards Jeor who looked less then pleased with the women.
"Well Maege if you had listened to father this morning you'd know that we were having a last minute feast with our guest here." Joer said while motioning to me looking down at the women she looked as though she was suddenly aware of the bear that had been standing over her. On an island called Bear Island.
"Oh. Greetings to you, uh you." She shuffled for a moment not sure what to say. "Welcome to Bear Island! Please excuse me from before I missed you somehow." I laugh at that which grabs the attention of almost everyone in the hall and scaring at least one serving girl into dropping something.
"Think nothing of it Sheild-Maiden of Bear Island. I've been told I can be fairly easy to miss when I want to be." I give the young women a smile. "So you are Lady Meage then? I hope you found the mace a worthy gift." She looked at me for another moment before she remembered the gift she had been given. She reached down to her side and retrieved the blackened mace that I had passed off to Joer yesterday.
"You made this." She said with such certainty that even if I didn't I would have said yes. I give a nod. She gives me a feral smile. "You know your way round a forge, but can you use the steel ye be making?" Before I can answer a loud wet cough catches our attention. A large man in black walked alongside Measter Portar who seemed less then happy at both the man and with Meage. The man had gone bald his beard was long and wispy. He was wide and hunched like a lifetime of burdens had physically pushed him down but he had a smile on his face even if he had just come out of quite the coughing fit.
"Meage calm yourself our guest here has come from far away and is likely tired and, like I, in no mood for your games." He scolded good naturedly. He stood straight standing proud showing a certain warriors pride that had seemed almost foreign to the man. "You're Ymir then? I must say whatever was in that bottle of yours certainly gave me the kick in the ass that I needed." My smile grew as I spoke to the man he reminded me of Kodlak in a way. An old warrior who was ready to pass down what he knew to the next generation but also not quite ready to leave yet. I extended an arm to him which he took and shook fiercely.
"Ay, that's my name and I assume your the Lord Mormont then? Must say, if your half the man your sons has described you as well get on fine. And I'm glad that that little potion helped your with your pneumonia. Nasty business that especially by the coast as ya are." He grunted and waved off the complement.
"Don't try and flatter me. You've already gotten into my good books with getting me out of bed. Not to mention the mace for my daughter and that wine my boy brought back."
"You've tried it then? I've always disliked wine as a drink but I found myself drinking it constantly. So I figured the best thing to do was get a vintage I could stomach. Unfortunately the Serulii brothers stopped making this variety years ago and that's one of the last ones they made. Enjoy it friend, as a good will gesture from me." Lord Mormont smiled with a nod.
"Ay, I've felt the same way about wine for some time rather just have an Ale and be done. No needed hiding why I'm drinking behind all that pomp like some Southerner right?" I let out a chuckle at that. Soon he leads me away from the main door to the hall where the feast was already underway. Warriors and peasants laughing and drinking together. Serving girls in the laps of young men a hand on there backsides. Food of all kinds Salmon and Cod common foods for a costal castle but also some beef and pork. Likely something expensive to show thanks for my gifts. I soon lost track of time sitting and eating with the Mormonts. Small talk mostly but I was subject to Meage's dirty jokes on more then one occasion asking how I knew how to make a handle so well and insinuating I spent a lot of time handling men's handles. But I truly did enjoy my time with them it was like sitting with the Companions of Jorrvaskr once more.
"Friends! Comrades! And new faces to Bear Island!" Lord Jeorge called. And all turned to face him as things quite down. "Today's feast is for many things. For peace from the Ironborn. For a stable North! And to new friends!" A roar of approval followed. "So allow me to introduce our newest friend, a warrior and scholar from a foreign land, Ymir of Bruma!" I stood as he called the hall once more letting out a roar.
"Many thanks to you Lord Mormont! And many thanks to all of you for having me it is an honor to stand with you here now feasting and drinking in good company! But I feel as though I've been receiving too much and not repaying that kindness, so please allow me to spin you a yarn of my homeland!" The roars were once more unleashed the drunk and curious alike wanted to hear one of my tales it seamed. I took a lute from one of the bards and checked the strings my time with Inigo in the bards college had taught me a thing or two and although I couldn't hold a note as well Inago but I learned some strings to give him some accompaniment.
I started with a set of three quite plucks and the hall grew quite and with just a touch of the Thu'um I began.
"Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky
His roar fury's fire and his scales sharpened scythes
Men ran and they cowered and they fought and they died
They burned and they bled as they issued their cries"
The hall was quiet as I played. Telling the ancient tale of the warriors who sent my great enemy forward in time. The first verse served as an introduction to the World Eater and some of the younger guests went into there mothers skirts at the description of the beast.
"Dovahkiin Dovahkiin naal ok zin los vahriin
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin fah hin kogaan mu draalc"
None in attendance understood the words spoken but they felt the meaning. A primal thing felt in there bones they knew it was a call to action for a hero.
"We need saviors to free us from Alduin's rage
Heroes on the field of this new war to wage
And if Alduin wins man is gone from this world
Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled
But then came the Tongues on that terrible day
Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray
And all heard the music of Alduin's doom
The sweet song of Skyrim, sky-shattering Thu'um
And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin's rage
Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age
If Alduin is eternal, then eternity's done
For his story is over and the dragons... are gone."
The people cried and clapped at the end of the song. A rage of cheers came from the men. a wail of joy from the children, and a few swoons from the women. I handed back the lute to the bard and thanked him before I held up my hands to quite down the crowd.
"Now then, im sure you have questions and as long as we're all sober enough I'm more then willing to answer them." Soon the people fell into groups and the came up as such with a leader to ask there question. The first was from Jeorge himself.
"What is your land like?" I smile at that and a drink from a nearby mug of ale.
"Tamriel or Skyrim?"
The night was long and it was stirred by the time the curiosity of the Bear Islanders was satisfied the night was well underway so I was given a room in the castle. Although I drank quite a bit the ale was watered-down. This was likely to make it last and was not as strong as I was used to. So instead of sleep overtaking me I was instead wide awake leaving me with my thoughts. I spent the evening wondering the halls my footsteps making almost no sound in order to not wake anyone. Eventually however I found myself outside once more, the cold being nothing to me do to my nord blood so I left my bearskin cloak inside. After a time I found myself in a large open space a lone white tree a blood red face carved into it. Sitting before the tree was the old Lord Mormont who insisted I call him Jeorge sitting down on a small wood stump beneath the tree on an old stump. A sword with a wolf's head pommel lay across his lap and the sound of a whetstone against steel filled the cold evening air. Approaching him I made sure that my steps were loud enough for him to hear as not to scare him. When I made it to him I touched his shoulder to let him know I was there. He turned to face me and his eyes tired and bloodshot. He gave me a smile before he turned back to the tree and closed his eyes.
"Do you feel it?" He asked me. After a moment of silence he continued. "The magic in the air. The power of the old gods rest in these trees and I've always found comfort in them." Truthfully, it was the opposite. Ever since I had arrived in this world I had found it… suffocating. It was smothering how heavy the air was and so thin with magic but here it felt like I was standing next to the Gildergreen of Whiterun. "You answered many questions tonight but asked none. Very few in Westeros, even in the North, would be so open. I must warn you against such things." His tone was somber as if disappointed with his own people. "I'll admit however it is a nice change of pace for someone to be honest with there answers and not try and hide behind lies and half truths." I grimaced internationally at that. That had been what I have been doing the short while I was here. Half answers that satisfied curiosity and lies that sounded like truths.
"Then, may I ask you a question? Answered truthfully and honestly with the face on this tree our only witness?" Jeorge laughed at that.
"You'd be surprised how closely you sounded to a norther with that request. To swear to speak the truth in front of a Weirwod in front of the gods is a very common thing here." I smile before steeling myself.
"What can you tell me about Azor Ahai?"
Well that's chapter 4 done and out. I wanted to get this out yesterday but I felt like it was better to take the extra day to go ever it a few more times and make sure I was happy with it. So lets see things to go over uhh how about Nerevar? So to anyone out there who's never played Morrowind buts got a pc I just finished playing through the main quest with Morroblivion and had a pretty good time. Although I did always crash when I went to Ald'run which was annoying because I was doing House Redoran. But back on course so Ymir dunking on Vivec is mostly supposed to be a racial bias as even though he was born in an imperial city and has the more open minded view on other races he still has the blood of Kyne running though his blood and that means one thing. Ripping out the neck veins of some random elf while yelling incoherently about Reman Cyrodiil like 200 years before he was born. Oh wait wrong Shezarrine uh yeah nord no like Elves. But it's also my own dislike of Vivec. As a character I find him very interesting and well done but that doesn't mean I think the guy who stabbed the guy was he was supposed to help lead their people in the back then proceed to stab his wife in the privets really some one you should up to ya know? But the Theory I have concocted here is simply wishful thinking from Ymir who after reading though the notes of Nerevar finds it hard to think that Tribunal could just kill him out right. And this theory is based off of the Tribunal telling anyhow also known as the most commonly distributed version of the story. But yeah review if you wanna tell me I'm bad at writing or want to see more either way I appreciate the feedback. And if you just wanna talk shop about writing or Elder Scrolls or something just hit me up with a pm.