My bad, just one chapter that was good to go. anyway, i hope this aint the last i manage to write for a while again.

Max groaned as the wagon he was in rattled down the trail, simply wanting to stay asleep. It was fairly early in the morning, having hired the carriage late in the afternoon from Whiterun. The past few weeks frankly seemed absolutely surreal to him. Not only had he helped slay a dragon, but he had been crucial in slaying it. The next night, he had a banquet thrown in his honor, was literally given a house and a guardian to watch over it, and had been made a Thane of Whiterun. Within the next day, he had traveled into Stormcloak territory, climbed the tallest mountain in Tamriel, and begun training with a seclusive order of monks in the use of his newfound Thu'um for nearly two weeks on the mountain slopes. On top of all that, he had learned he was Dragonborn, like the emperors and heroes of old. He, a farm kid from Cyrodil. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get his mind wrapped around that.

"Boy, you awake back there? We're nearly to Markarth!" the wagon driver shouted that out to him from his seat, probably not even looking his way.

"Yeah, I'm awake" he let out another groan as he sat up, using his rucksack as a seat back. Light was barely starting to bleed into the world from the sun rising, not even enough yet to make out the details of his own clothes, just enough to notice the shapes of the mountains in the distance.

Damn it… I still don't have a clue how the hell I'm going to find this horn or Windcaller's tomb. The greybeards really could have given me more to go off of! As it was, all they told him was that he needed to retrieve the horn of Jorgan Windcaller, the founder of the Way of the Voice. Nothing more. He was on his way to Markarth now simply because the Jarl of Whiterun told him of an expert in Skyrim's ruins having a workshop there. If it wasn't for that lead, he would still be totally stumped right now.

As the wagon rattled on and the sun continued to rise, he began going through his stuff to make sure he had it all, slipping his sword belt back on, making sure his shield was still tightly lashed to his ruck, checking to make sure his camping supplies were still in good order, even doing a count of the septims he brought with him. Another shocking change for him was the amount of money he now had. Even leaving most of it in a chest at his home, he still had a few hundred septims on him, split between his small coin purse and a bag in his ruck. He likely had been paid enough to buy his own plot of land to farm if he wanted to.

If every dragon I kill gets me this kind of reward… I'd be as rich as a Jarl in no time… and skyrim would be broke. Honestly though, I think Balgruf rewarded me so well because it was the first Dragon since they returned to be slain. I wouldn't be surprised if the bounty on dragons, once they have one, will be much lower. He had that thought as he counted out the twenty septims he still owed the wagon driver, slipping them from his ruck to keep his coin purse full. When he looked up from the bag, he found himself staring at the immense Dwemer wall that made up Markarth's outer defenses. The massive metal gates were opened wide, people already moving in and out of the city.

The driver brought the wagon to a halt near the gate to the city, Max quietly dropping the septims he had prepped into the driver's hand before slinging his ruck and dropping off the back of the wagon.

As he approached the gate, he aimed for the guard standing by it, speaking as soon as he was close enough. "Excuse me, would you be able to provide me with some directions?"

The guard scoffed at him, his helmet hiding whatever expression he could be making. "Depends on what. Can't say my memory is too good with how empty my coin purse is either."

"I'm looking for a man named Calcemo. He's an expert in Skyrim's ruins." As Max spoke, he pulled a small cluster of coins out, dropping them into the guard's hand.

"Well, that sure helped my memory. He works out of the main keep, has some 'museum' on the old dwemer ruins. Just continue up the main road straight through the gate and you'll reach the keep."

"Thank you sir." Max smiled to the guard, giving him a small nod in parting as he marched through the gate. The city on the otherside was very different than what he was used to seeing, closer to the Ayleid ruins back in Cyrodil. Large amounts of brass colored metal and large perfectly shaped stone made up most of the structures around the city, though there were also many structures with cobblestone and timber patches as well. The older Dwemer structures had been around for thousand of years. Despite their age, many of the structures were still in near immaculate condition.

The main street of Markarth wound up deeper into the mountain valley the city was built into, following a man-made stream with several bridges across it. As Max got further from the markets around the town gate, the street became less and less populated, to the point that there wasn't a soul in sight for most of the journey. As he came around a slight bend, he heard the sound of voices, too quiet to really make out now.

Around the bend were a pair of people, both Bretons. The smaller folk, as well as the ever so slightly pointed ears on the pair being dead giveaways. Of the pair, one was a girl who couldn't have been much older than fifteen, still with a very adolescent build. If Max had to guess, she was about the same height as Ranger, if a little shorter. That said, her brilliant blonde hair, kept clean and well groomed, was an incredibly striking feature, enhanced by the flowers she had woven into it. Her skin was also clear and well cared for, an oddity amongst any people of Tamriel, save the wealthy and the royalty. Despite her very delicate features and paler complexion, her clothing was the same sort of rugged furs most of skyrim wore.

One glance at her screamed that she was distressed in some way or another, likely due to the conversation she was having with her companion. As such, Max did his best to seem innocuous as he moved closer, his attention fixed to the pair as he did his best to listen in.

"Mirai… it may be time to start preparing for the worst. It's been almost a year, and I've searched all over skyrim with no sign of your parents…" Max couldn't see much about the girls companion, his voice and build denoting him as male at the very least. From behind, all he could make out was the man's slightly pointed ears, relatively darker skin tone and near black brown hair.

"What!? Do you think my parents are dead!?" now that Max was close enough to properly hear the conversation, he slowed up as much as he dared, hoping to hear as much as he could. As it was, his initial guess of her being distressed was amplified by the high tension in her voice, so taut that he swore simply walking by could snap it.

"No, just that they aren't in skyrim at the very least. No matter how hard you search, we are not going to find them."

"So you think they just… decided I was too much trouble and left!?" her voice cracked as she responded, a pair of tears visibly streaking down her cheeks.

Max was about to pass the pair, so he moved to adjust his ruck straps. He used that moment to release the buckles on one strap to let the bag drop off his shoulder. He even added a small string of artful curses as he dropped the bag, crouching in place to mime trying to fix the strap, and feign that he wasn't actually paying attention to them. Should I really just be eavesdropping on this gal's conversation… seems kinda wrong…

"You know I didn't mean it that way Mirai. Your mother never would do that. Whatever the reason though, they may not be coming back."

"I.. I can't accept that! I have to know what happened to them!"

"I know. But I've searched everywhere I can think of and I haven't seen a single sign of them."

"I know… I just don't get it." her voice fell, it sounding like she was on the brink of tears. "Wait… I have an idea!" her voice audibly perked up for a moment.

"What?"

"I need you to find Junan. Father used to stay with him all the time when we came here, maybe he knows where they are!?"

"Mirai, I really don't think that's a good idea…"

"He has to know where they are!"

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course! I think he lives in Rorikstead… or maybe Falkreath… I can't really remember clearly but he has to know something!"

"Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"He shouldn't be any trouble, I swear! Just send word when you find him!"

"Of course. I guess I'll try Rorickstead first."

"Okay… and thanks Shin." She sounded genuinely relieved, yet, there were still heavy traces of worry in her voice.

Max took that as his cue, slinging his ruck again as he stood back up, looking their way to see the man already walking away. The girl, Mirai, looked far worse than she had sounded, her shoulders visibly dropping as she nervously bit her lip. In that moment, she looked utterly defeated and helpless. Just seeing someone in that kind of state bothered Max beyond words.

"Hey, everything alright?" he spoke up as he took a few steps toward her.

"Alright, excuse me but who are you?" her voice immediately shifted from the tense almost despondent tones she had been using with her friend to straight hostility. Even her stance shifted from the down in the dumps stance she had, to crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him. All pretense of delicacy, at least in her expression, was lost in an instant.

"I'm sorry! You just seem in a spot of trouble, I want to help!"

"Bullshit, and you didn't answer my question!"

"My name's Max-" he didn't get the chance to say any more.

"And what makes you think you have any right to eavesdrop on my conversation outside my home!?"

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't really intend to eavesdrop, I just happened to be passin-"

"Oh, so you admit to eavesdropping then!?"

"Look, what's the attitude for!? I literally just want to help you!?" Max couldn't help but raise his voice right back at her, annoyed that she kept cutting him off.

She let out an unamused chuckle, shaking her head in visible disgust. "You eavesdrop on me and you wonder why I have an attitude with you!? What is wrong with you!?"

"What's wrong with ME!? You were having a conversation, in broad daylight, in the middle of the street, and you're yelling at someone for overhearing it and wanting to help you! If you didn't want someone to hear your conversation, maybe have it inside the home in which you just so courteously pointed out!" Max took a deep breath to try and calm himself, closing his eyes for a moment. "Look, yes, I eavesdropped on your conversation. But seriously, if you need some he-"

"No one seriously just 'wants to help'. So what are you really after? Looking to kidnap me, steal my stuff? Oh, I know, you want me to pay you to help me just so you can run off with my septims!" her glare merely intensified as she snapped that out.

"No, none of that… really, I just want to help. You seemed distressed and I don't like seeing people like that. Honestly." Max managed to keep his calm this time, realizing that this girl probably had been having an extremely rough time, though exactly how bad that time was, was still a mystery to him. He tried to give her a warm smile too, simply trying to show her his genuine feelings.

She took a step back from him for a moment, her glare falling away. She immediately returned to her more aggressive glare and stance after a mere moment. "I know you don't 'just want to help'! People like that only exist in fairy tales!"

"Alright, fine, how can I prove it to you?" he crossed his arms over his chest as he responded, not really glaring at her persay, but hardening his expression nonetheless.

"I'm starting to think you really mean it…" she muttered that out, quiet enough that he could barely hear it. "Alright, you can go get something for me then!" she snapped that out, just as hostile as every other statement toward him so far had been.

"I'm listening?"

"I left something really valuable down by my fishing camp by accident. I kinda rushed back here this morning because I forgot Shin was coming back today. Go get it for me."

"Uh, alright… what am I getting and where is this fishing camp?" he smirked at her, resting his hands on his hips.

"Just follow this stream out of the city. You'll find it. And you're just going to have to figure out what it is!" she snapped that out, turning on the spot and heading for one of the nearby structures.

Well, okay then… guess I gotta go find this mystery object… Max shrugged before turning and heading back the way he came.

"Jorge, are you listening!?" Sophia's voice echoed slightly in the cold damp hall, her face lit only by the orb of light she had produced to guide the trio along.

"Uh, what?" Jorge blankly blinked at her, having not been paying to attention to her or Farkas since they entered this old draugr crypt. He had been in several of them over the past weeks, and they were quite frankly boring to him at this point. As such, his mind had drifted to wondering what had happened to Ranger after his rather tight escape from Whiterun. Though it had been nearly a month, he had heard nor seen any sign of the boy, and though they had barely interacted directly, he was still concerned about the lad. His father had been… not a friend but a good man whom Jorge knew too well if he was honest. Mostly from the old grizzled woodsmen besting Jorge in fistfights after Jorge drank a little too much of Helgan's meade. Of course, rather than chucking Jorge into the local jail to sober up, he usually paid for his tavern room. He held a deep rooted respect for the lad's father, and in turn him.

"I said to keep an eye out you scatter brained whelp! We should have run into some sign of the folk excavating this place by now." Farkas barked that out from the front of the trio, his longsword drawn and ready.

"Ah. Roight." Jorge tossed that back to the fellow companion, the task at hand flooding to mind. He was there on what the companions had deemed an extremely important mission after all. Recovering a fragment of the famed ax of the companions, Wuthrod. Frankly, it was a task he couldn't care less about. He had only joined the companions for an income source and something to do after all.

He rolled his shoulders as he followed along, letting his eyes wander the area. The room itself was no different than many of the burial halls he had traveled already, albeit, littered with full wheel barrows of crumbled masonry and rock, several timber support beams added to help stabilize the ruin. There were obvious signs of recent habitation by the living, from relatively fresh candles and lanterns to crates of provisions. Too many crates for a small research group if Jorge had an opinion on it.

"Don'cha think the number of crates we seein's a bit odd?" Jorge aimlessly spoke that toward the group, still watching the surprisingly well lit surroundings thanks to Sophia's light.

"Maybe. Some of these expeditions can last years." Farkas spoke calmly, though there was a tint of concern in his voice. "We still should have seen someone though."

"Maybe they were killed by Draugr?" Sophia was clearly as bored as Jorge by her tone. Of course, she wasn't an official member of the companions after all. The money she got from their jobs was simply half of Jorge's pay.

"We haven't seen a single sign of blood. Draugr aren't the type to clean up after themselves."

"Eh, fair. Maybe they're just plannin a surprise booze party. No point in speculatin." Jorge snapped that out as they neared the end of the hall, several side rooms sprouting from the area. Only one of the doorways led to a set of stairs downward, blocked by a heavy steel portcullis. "Or they got 'emselves trapped downstairs."

"Maybe. Try these side rooms. See if you can find a lever or something." Farkas barked out yet another order, Jorge shrugging as he happened to agree with it. The trio moved to the room dead ahead of them, only sticking together due to Sophia's light source. The room though was painfully bland, containing nothing but storage for embalming equipment and jars of embalming fluids.

Before they could really search the room though, the sound of chains and steel on rock screeched through the near silence, Jorge wincing from the pain in his ears.

"Did one of yall find the lev-" Jorge didn't finish his question as the reason for the noise was announced by the pounding of leather boots across the stone, a group of men arraying before the entrance to the room to block their escape. All of them had weapons drawn, the almost white colored metal most definitely not steel. If Jorge had to guess, the metal was some sort of silver alloy, something he had only seen Vigiliant's of Stendar carrying. There were at least a dozen of them all told from various human races.

Jorge, Sophia, and Farkas all readied their weapons as they darted to the center of the room, close enough to cover each other's flanks but far enough to still move and fight. Farkas had taken the center, leaving Sophia and Jorge to cover the flanks.

"Looks like we caught several of em' at once." One of them snarked that out, all of the group smiling. Each one had a silvery white hand painted or stitched on their armor.

"See, told you that Wuthrad fragment would lure em. Which one is that?" one of the others responded, studying Farkas more than Jorge and Sophia.

"Who cares, just kill 'em." One of the burly nords in the group.

"Great. These clowns again. Sorry you have to see this guys." Farkas' shoulders slumped as he cast his blade aside and popped the buckles holding his armor on. As he was doing so, his body began changing, his limbs lengthening as course black fur sprouted across his body. Just moments after it started, he finished transforming into a bipedal beast, it's vaguely wolf like form and hunched over frame immediately recognizable for Jorge.

Huh, werewolf. I'd heard a few rumors in the bush that the companions might be. Didn't think they were true. Neat. Beyond his thought, Jorge didn't even react to the transformation. Their attackers stepped back a little, but otherwise kept their composure.

"Well damn, that's a thing. Also… look at the size of that dick… you could scare a walrus with that thing." Sophia on the other hand, clearly had her own distracting thoughts on the matter, Jorge having to fight looking himself.

Damn it Sophia, not the time! He didn't spare her a glance, too focused on the obvious enemy. That said, now that she had mentioned it, several of the enemies had curiosity best them, their eyes dropping to Farkas' exposed crotch. Farkas took that moment to lunge forward. Two of them reflexed back from the sudden charge, probably still distracted by the rather large piece of anatomy in front of them. The others raised blades to let the unarmored werewolf ram itself on them, much like one would use a pike against cavalry. They weren't expecting a swath of fire ripping from Sophia's hands or for Jorge to rush forward with Farkas. Jorge focused on using his axe to hook and swat one of the blades up. He did so seemingly in perfect unison as Farkas ducked down under the blades to ram his clawed fists into two of the mercenaries guts, lifting them into the air and tossing their limp corpses away like rags.

Jorge stepped toward Farkas, spinning and slamming his axe back downward, completely controlling his chosen merc's blade and driving the point to the stone floor. The motion put the merc between him and the other mercs, easily kicking the blade away as he cleared his axe. One smooth chop to the back of the man's neck severed his spine. A moment later he was stepping back deeper into the hall, Sophia and Farkas still with him. The remaining mercs, only half of what had tried to trap them cautiously followed them, weapons at the ready for another possible rush like that.

"Ya know, for a beast, he's still pretty smart." Jorge tossed that across their little impromptu formation to Sophia, giving her a glance as he did so.

"Oh, a beast isn't much of a stretch from his norm. Want the left two?" she spoke as she sheathed her blade, two sparking balls of electricity forming in her hands.

"You say that like you don't know the answer lass. Farkas, I think you know which two are yours." Jorge smirked, enjoying that Farkas couldn't nag at them for taking charge like this.

A pair of sharp cracks filled the air, flashes of light momentarily blinding the two parties. Farkas merely roared in response, leaping at the ceiling with such force that he was able to twist around and 'land' on the ceiling with the purchase to launch himself toward the center two mercs. One was unfortunate enough to be immediately in Farkas' path, mauled aside by the werewolf as though he was no more than a rag. Upon landing, Farkas neatly rolled back to his hind feet, already facing the second of his two targets.

Jorge rushed forward as soon as Farkas had been moving, darting wide and turning his head away from his opponent as he dropped to a knee. This shielded his face as his enemy's blade glanced harmlessly off Jorge's steel helm, at the same moment Jorge was plunging his axe into the side of the man's knee. The merc howled in pain as Jorge yanked the axe free, winding back and throwing it straight at the second of his two targets. The second man narrowly reflected the axe away, but Jorge had followed the weapon, shoving the mans arms up over his exposed head before ramming his helmet straight to the man's forehead. He dropped like a sack, unconscious in an instant.

As the second man fell, Farkas leapt past Jorge, pouncing on the wounded merc behind Jorge and biting down on the man's neck. The motion was followed by a sharp twist of Farkas' neck, sending a crack through the hall as the man's scream's stopped.

"Well, that was easier than I expected. Woulda been one heck of a fight if li'le beastie here hadn' gone hog wild for us." He grinned as he smacked the exposed ass of Farkas, earning him a sharp and annoyed growl. Jorge merely bellowed out a laugh as he scooped up his axe, slamming it down on the neck of the unconscious merc.

As Jorge yanked the axe free, he glanced Sophia's way to see the twin charred and smoking corpses that had once been men, Sophia dusting her hands off as though she had just been cleaning some dust off shelves. "Piece of cake, as always!"

As Sophia was speaking, Farkas slowly shifted back into a human form, completely naked and unashamed to be. "Hmph. We were lucky. Knowing the Silver Hand, these were just their most expendable. He strode past the corpses as he moved to retrieve his armor and blade.

"Boy, he's a beast even as a human! Did you see that thing swinging there? It's a miracle the man can walk!" Sophia chuckled as she snarked that toward Jorge, loud enough to be easily heard across the whole hall, despite the whispered tone.

"Ha, 'splains a lot really. I's all downstairs ya see, got nothin left fer brains. Guess he got all the dick, and his brother got all the brains?"

"Aye, I could see that alright!" The pair cracked up laughing at their jokes, not a care in the world how bad they came off as.

"Damned whelps, quit laughing over your damned jokes!"