It was midnight, and an orc was snoring peacefully next to a fire's dying embers. The scene was perfectly quiet and still. Moonlight bathed the snow, curving gently over ruffles where there were footprints.
Awake, but unable to appreciate this simple beauty, was Rohah Catraso. She was bolt upright in her bedroll, blanket drawn up to her neck as if it were a shield from the night. She was also shaking like a leaf.
"Just a dream," she whispered to herself, but as soon as she said it, she knew she could never believe those words. Just a few minutes prior, she had woken up for no apparent reason. Then, a chill had passed through her, and she'd looked up from her bedroll to find herself eye-to-eye with a dragon. It was inches from her face.
Rohah had opened her mouth to scream, her first urge - to wake Norvosh up - but nothing except a strangled and much-too-quiet "Uhk" had passed her lips. It seemed her entire body had seized up. She could not recall any details about the appearance of the dragon, as focused as she was on her imminent doom.
The dragon, miraculously, had surged away, as if Rohah had scared it as much as it scared Rohah. It had paused, taken one last look at her, and flown away.
Presently, Rohah just regained her ability to breathe properly. She stood and staggered to the sleeping orc, the mercenary she'd hired only days ago.
"Norvosh," she half-whispered, terrified the dragon would be back any minute. "Norvosh! Get up! I think there's a dragon nearby!"
"A dragon?" the orc groaned, clearly still asleep. "You were dreaming. Go back to bed."
"I wasn't - there's a dragon here, I'll swear to any Divine you want, I'll swear to Malacath, I don't care, just get up!" She was now pushing the orc's shoulder relentlessly.
"Good gods, Rohah," Norvosh said, propping himself up by his forearms. While tired, his pronunciation of her name was closer to row-uh. "I don't see you being eaten or burned alive. Everything is fine. I'm going back to sleep."
And the orc was true as his word, snoring within minutes.
Rohah returned to her bedroll but was unable to sleep. Restless, she checked the ground where the dragon had been. There were no footprints. Had it been a dream? No. She knew the difference between dreams and reality. Did dragons have some magical, footprint-erasing ability the world was yet unaware of? Unlikely.
She stayed awake for the rest of the night, hugging her knees and shivering in the cold. The dragon did not return.
In the morning, Norvosh gave no indication he remembered Rohah waking him up in the middle of the night, and Rohah did not press the matter. She could not resist, however, glancing at the sky from time to time, paranoid she'd see a dragon swoop down at any moment.
A dragon here, now… exhausted as she was from lack of sleep, her brain was grinding back into action. There were, of course, dragons that had survived the Dragon War; they were in hiding. Their names and last known sightings would be recorded… where? Winterhold, yes, that would be the place to start.
When they finished breaking camp, Rohah stopped Norvosh and took a breath.
"Listen," she began. "We should go back to Winterhold. I need to check something at the College library."
"We're close to the Stone," the orc said, frowning. "Getting it was what you hired me to do. If we head back now, I'll still want that payment."
"Oh, yes - of course," Rohah said, who had nearly forgotten about the Stone. "The Stone isn't important now. Something else came up."
There was a pause.
"You really did see that dragon," the orc said, with surprising shrewdness. Rohah had taken him for a common barbarian, but he was remarkably quick on the uptake.
"Unfortunately, yes," Rohah admitted with a half-smile, eyeing Norvosh with more respect. "I want to go back and find any records on dragons living near here. This is a fascinating research opportunity!"
"And what exactly are you going to do once you've got those records?" the orc pressed. "Wander around 'till it invites you in its cave for tea?"
"I'm not going to be near it," Rohah said, affronted. "Just - "
"Just in its territory?"
Rohah frowned. "We're already in its territory. It was here last night. It could have killed both of us, but it didn't. I think it'll leave me alone."
"You think," Norvosh repeated, in a tone that suggested polite disbelief. "Rohah, you're going to get yourself hurt. Tell me you're going to leave the damned dragon alone."
"Sorry, Norvosh," Rohah said, putting her hands on her hips. "This is too important. A dragon, in the fourth era!"
The orc's shoulders sagged slightly in resignation, as if he'd expected this answer. It was silent a moment, then Norvosh sighed and -
"I'll come with you," he said.
"Er - no offense, but weren't you just trying to convince me not to go?" All the same, Rohah was privately glad the orc was volunteering to stay. She hadn't seen Norvosh in real combat yet, but he looked quite capable. The wilderness was too dangerous for Rohah to go alone, and it would have been a challenge to find another mercenary willing to take the job.
Norvosh shrugged and avoided her eyes. "A sellsword's got to make a living somehow." The answer seemed evasive. Now it was Rohah's turn to be suspicious.
"All right then," she said, choosing to let the moment pass. "Let's get moving."
They were travelling lightly, so breaking camp didn't take long. There was definitely a deeper reason for Norvosh agreeing to accompany her. Most smart sellswords would back out of a deal the minute they heard 'dragon', but the word had the opposite effect on the orc. Rohah had just enough patience to last until noon - which, she supposed, wasn't very long at all.
"So, Norvosh," she began, drawing out the first word. They were winding their way through a deer path, having abandoned the main road a day ago. "Are you sure there isn't any other reason you're willing to protect me from this dragon?"
They were both focused on navigating the forest, so Rohah had no idea what expression Norvosh might be wearing.
"I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm not really looking for a relationship right now," the orc deadpanned. Rohah felt her face go hot. She was glad they were looking at the path ahead, because she must have been bright red.
"That's not what I - what I was talking about - I mean to say, if there's - most sellswords don't - "
To her relief, Norvosh was laughing. "Relax, Cyrod. I'm only joking with you." It was quiet a moment, then Norvosh said carefully, "I suppose you should know, but don't go 'round spreading this. I already told you my full name - Norvosh gro-Grotmulag. Well, I did a bit of digging on my family name, and it's got ties to the Dragon Cult."
"Really?" Rohah said, tripping over a root. "What's the connection?"
"Well - it's not completely certain," Norvosh said quickly. "But there are good leads. The name itself is the biggest one. I suspect it's an orcish derivative of rotmulaag - "
"Words of power," Rohah translated. "That makes sense. But that's still barely any evidence - "
"There's more. See, I was born in an orc stronghold - I doubt you'd know of them - "
"Try me," countered Rohah. As interested as she was in Norvosh's history, she took the orc's doubt as a challenge.
He snorted. "Fine. Dushnikh Yal, in the Reach."
Norvosh unconsciously picked up the pace out of excitement as he spoke. Rohah had to do an awkward half-jog to keep up. "I bought a good map from a khajiit caravan while I was still living at home, more out of curiosity than anything. The merchant said it was some adventurer's before they got too old to bother. It had lots of dangerous places marked, with plenty notes attached. I had a good look at the area around our stronghold, and there's this place, Nordic ruins, called Valthume, real close to us.
"I looked into it, because some Nordic ruins are supposed to have words of power hidden inside. There was this obscure text in the College library some nutter wrote about Valthume, way back in the Merethic Era. I actually made a copy - I can show you later. The text was rambling about some change in tributes. But there was this bit at the end, I have it memorized: The orcs have requested an audience with His Lordship. See to it they approach Him with the proper tributes. I doubt their kind knows our customs."
Rohah waited, but that was all. "Not to rain on your parade, but… that isn't much."
Norvosh made a frustrated noise. "Listen, it's different for you Imperials. Names are important in orc society. It's the whole reason I'm bothering with this at all. Every orc family knows their origin, but mine does not. That alone is highly suspect. People don't forget history unless there was something to hide."
"I'd have to disagree with that," Rohah said. "History is forgotten all the time."
"Family history isn't," the orc growled. "You're not an orc. You wouldn't understand. If I returned to Dushnikh now with what I have, they would agree it's proof enough."
"Then why don't you?"
"Because there's wisdom in forgetting. Some history is better left alone."
Rohah laughed. "You're not making any sense. You tell me family history is important, but then say it's better to not know. Which is it?"
She had the orc thoroughly nettled now. "You're dense, Rohah," he grumbled. "I'm no longer a stronghold orc. It would be insulting for me to come back with news that one of their most loyal families has origins in the Dragon Cults. They are better off not knowing. But I am. It's my right to know."
"Okay - alright," Rohah said, not wanting to poke the dragon any more than she already had. "Let's say you're right. Your family is from a Dragon Cult. Are you hoping you might find some answers in this dragon we're researching?"
"Something like that," Norvosh admitted with a laugh. "I know it's stupid."
Despite herself, Rohah felt a tug of compassion for the orc. "No, it's natural. It's your family." She glanced at Norvosh. His face was blank and calm, contrasting with his brutish features. An orcish helmet outlined his face, and a short black beard grew along his jawline. They did not speak again of anything important for the rest of the day.
In Winterhold again, Norvosh explained that he really was no good at poring over books, and besides, the lorekeeper hadn't seemed to enjoy his presence the first time around, and would Rohah please make sure to keep an eye out for anything about his family. Rohah agreed, and they split up with plans to meet once they knew more about the dragon.
Rohah shivered against the cold, glad to step into the College. The place was unnaturally warm for such a large building, and she could only guess magic came into the equation. She passed a trio of students who were relaxing and talking amongst themselves. One was an argonian. She pushed open the door to the Arcaneum, and their voices faded behind her, making way for a relaxing atmosphere. Rows and rows of shelves marched ahead of her. The orc lorekeeper looked up to see who entered, and, recognizing Rohah, briefly nodded before returning to a book. She sighed, feeling an unknown tension melt away. This was where she belonged - not the harsh wilderness.
She had expected to be in there for hours, but her search was surprisingly quick. There was a section of the library dedicated to dragons, and in it, records detailing recent sightings and the names of fugitive dragons.
Deceased by report… no, the dragon she needed was very much alive. Slain by the Dragonguard… no… that wasn't what she wanted either… Known to live. Perfect. She scanned the list.
Ahbiilok - Morrowind. No.
Mirmulnir - the Reach. Nope.
Nahfahlaar - location unknown, possible death in Stros M'Kai (disputed).
Paarthurnax - location unknown. Last seen fighting alongside Alduin as his lieutenant.
Rohah frowned. Only four? And none of them were last seen near Winterhold. She tried to recall what the dragon had looked like. It had been nighttime, so it was dark… but maybe she'd recognize it when she saw it…
There were papers with written descriptions of all known dragons, and an approximate sketch for each one. Her scowl deepened when none of them struck her as familiar. There must have been no records of the dragon she had seen.
Resigned, Rohah returned all the texts to their proper locations and stepped back into the biting wind, dreading having to explain to Norvosh that they had nothing to go on.
She slipped into the Frozen Hearth Inn to raucous laughter, where she would find her mercenary. To her surprise, Norvosh was hunched on a barstool, clutching something Rohah assumed was mead. A few men and women were seated or standing nearby, shouting with laughter that did not sound friendly. The barkeeper hovered behind the bar, looking torn between saying something or pretending nothing was happening. Nobody had noticed Rohah enter.
"I haven't done anything wrong," Norvosh muttered, barely audible. "I'm just here for a drink."
"Oh, here for a drink, he says," cried a woman, her friend giggling madly beside her. "Don't you have any barbarian friends you can go back to?"
"He's stinking up our tavern," another woman agreed. This was greeted with another round of laughter.
Norvosh then did something very strange. He hunched - if possible - even lower, set the mead down, and pressed his hands into his pointed ears. His forearms shielded his face. He looked like he was attempting to block out the world. Rohah felt first a surge of pity, then of anger towards the townsfolk.
"What the hellya doing that for?" a man yelled, suddenly aggressive. He looked quite drunk. "Always butting in where you don't belong, you orcish filth - well, we've had it! Go back to your stronghold! No one needs you here, no one wants you here!" The crowd was growing. Rohah was afraid there would be violence soon.
"What do you all think you're doing?" Rohah said, at last finding her voice. She strode forward and stood beside Norvosh's stool, glaring at the man who'd spoken. "Don't you have any decency? He's not done anything to you. Leave him alone!"
To her consternation, this was not met with surprise and averted, shamed eyes as she'd expected, but instead uproarious laughter. Norvosh peered up at her, hands still covering his ears. Someone - she could not tell who - called her a milk drinker. Rohah felt a twist of fear, realizing she was very much still small and weak. As a scholar, she never had much need for physical power. She needed to defuse the moment before it got ugly.
"Come on, Norvosh," she said, tugging at the orc. "Let's get out of here."
She led the orc to the door, keeping a comforting arm around him that did not reach to his shoulder, as Norvosh was quite tall. The crowd tailed them, jeering and catcalling, but to Rohah's relief they did not follow them out the door. Norvosh kept his arms over his face, and did not drop them until they were well away from the inn.
"Thanks," he croaked, refusing to look at Rohah.
"Is it always that bad?"
"No," the orc murmured. "They got a little too drunk today. Normally it's just dirty looks, passive aggressiveness, you know."
"That's awful," Rohah said, balling her fists. "You don't deserve that."
"Thanks," Norvosh said again, voice a little stronger this time. "I'm sorry you had to see it."
"I'm sorry it happened at all," Rohah said fiercely. Norvosh grinned, and finally met Rohah's eye.
"Did you find anything on the dragon?" Norvosh asked.
"What?" she said, confused, her brain taking a moment to switch to the new subject. "Oh. Yeah, about that…" She told Norvosh all about how she had found nothing. To her surprise, he didn't seem disappointed by the news. Instead, the orc took it in stride and smiled.
"We'll just have to find our own clues. Should we set off tonight? No sense waiting, you know."
"I suppose," Rohah said nervously. She was not enthused about going into this blind. But if Norvosh was confident they'd be alright, she'd follow. "Just one thing first. Why were you covering your ears?" She tried to keep her tone gentle, a purposeful contrast to the man who'd raised his voice against him on the same subject.
Norvosh glanced away. "It was just - you know, it's just something that happens, I think, when I get overwhelmed. I don't know why I do it. It just happens."
"Okay," Rohah said, wanting to ease off. She felt as though she were making the orc nervous. It was strange - Norvosh was tall, strong, and intimidating - a paragon of his kind. But as Rohah got to know him, it became apparent his personality was anything but fierce.
Author's note: I have a sizeable portion of the story already written. I will be publishing each pre-written chapter once I've looked them over. After that, I'll be posting weekly or faster until the story is complete.
