AN: Once again Skyrim and its character belong to Bethesda and once more I would like to thank Tomhed Ceht for her amazing beta work next chapter will be up soon.
13th of Last Seed 4E201
I stumbled out of the cave, the sun's light searing my eyes.
"Finally," Ralof sighed with relief as he looked around. "I hope the dragons gon-" Ralof's hope was dashed as the beast flew above at ridiculous speeds away from Helgen. Seeing it even from here froze me in my tracks. It seemed to absorb the sun's light, its mere presence making the world darker. Just as quick as it came, the dragon was gone, the only evidence it was ever here being the sound of fire and the smell of death.
"He is now," I spoke after a few seconds of stunned silence. I let out a cough that carried blood with it. "Damn."
"We need to get you to Riverwood. I got family there and those wounds need proper treatment." I nodded, my mind replaying the day's events. Wondering how exactly I survived it all, I followed Ralof. Limping and bloody, but alive. The journey to Riverwood was made in silence. Not only from us, but everywhere. It seemed that the dragon had frightened every natural creature away from Helgen and left the now dead place in eerie silence. The quiet was broken once we happened upon a group of three stones. Ralof began speaking of their history and significance, but I wasn't paying attention.
"See for yourself," He finished, motioning to the carved stones. Slowly, I approached the stones, the hum of magicka hung in the air as if they were watching me and waiting for my choice. I ran my hand over the surprisingly cool surface of the stone that bore the image of the archetypal wizard. "Mage huh? Well to each his own, it's not my place to judge." A response was on my lips when the stone lit up and and shot a blue light into the sky. I took a step back as I felt a warm feeling wrap around me, the sensation made my skin tingle.
"That was… weird." I said after a moment, rubbing the back of my neck. "Come on, let's keep going."
We were close to Riverwood at that point and I was grateful. My wounds stung and burnt with each step and the simple act of breathing was becoming difficult. Riverwood itself was a nice enough little village. The sounds of children at play mixed with the churn of the water wheel and neighing horses formed a pleasant chorus of simple bliss, which clashed with the events of the last day or so violently. How such simple joy like this and absolute chaos were so close to one another I couldn't understand. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat reached my nostrils and my stomach took its chance to finally voice its suffering.
"That smells good," I huffed and started to make my way to the building the scent was flowing from.
"Hold on there," Ralof chuckled as he put a hand on my shoulder to stop my advance. "We should get ourselves cleaned up first. And, those wounds still need treatment." At first a childlike despair at being denied food boiled in my gut, but my better sense won out in the end.
"You have a point. You got family here?" I asked, forcing myself to turn around.
"Aye, my sister Gerdur runs the mill," he answered, motioning to the mill with his thumb. "Should have some things to help us out. Come on." With that, Ralof began making his way to the mill and, hiding my pain and discomfort with each step, I followed. We reached the mill just as a tall Nordic woman seemed to be leaving, dressed in simple clothing and wearing her hair in a similar style to Ralof's. The woman, who I assumed to be Gerdur, gasped.
"Ralof? What are you doing here? I thought you were with Ulfric! And who's this? A comrade in arms?" She asked, her gaze falling on me.
"Not yet, just a friend as of now. He saved my life, as a matter of fact. You're right, I was with Ulfric, but it got complicated fast." Ralof began recounting what happened at Helgen as Gerdur called her husband down. My legs suddenly felt weak and I numbly sat down on a large tree stump. Once more, I went through the day in my head, tuning their conversation out.
'A dragon… every old story I know states that dragons are harbingers of the end times…' The conversation turned to my wounds apparently, because Gerdur's husband had exclaimed;
"Shor's Bones, man! You look like you just fist fought a bear!"
"Yeah, probably because I have." I grunted.
"Sister, I hate to ask this of you, but I would be dead without his help. If you have any healing supplies…" Ralof sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
"Nonsense, Ralof. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. And what Nord lets a friend die from an untreated wound?" Gerdur replied as she motioned for us to follow "You speak as if asking for some simple potions and badges would cripple us you ice-brain." At this chiding, Ralof rubbed the back of his neck as a slight blush began to rise on his cheeks.
We reached Gerdur's house in good time and Gerdur moved to a small chest "Take your shirt off," she commanded and silently I obeyed, peeling the rough garment off my torso and hissing in pain as I did. The potion Ralof had given me had stopped me from bleeding out in the cave, but hadn't closed the wounds completely. The shirt had stuck to the wounds with saturated with blood as it was. The ten claw marks still wept their crimson tears and began wetting the small homes' floor with blood.
"Sit down and stay still," Gerdur commanded once more and I again complied with her request. I had learned from personal experience that making a healer's job difficult was stupid.I waited quietly as Gerdur worked. She first cleaned the wound, then applied some ointment before wrapping the wounds in bandages.
"It's going to scar. Nothing I can do about that," she shrugged after she finished.
"Good. Is there anywhere I can clean myself?" I said as I stood up.
"Just the river by the mill." She replied, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder. "Now, Ralof."
"I'm fine, Gerdur." Ralof began.
"Don't argue with her, my friend. It never ends well to deny aid." I spoke before Gerdur could respond, placing a hand on Ralof's shoulder with a smile pulling at my lips. Ralof began stuttering in protest as Gerdur sat him down and with a laugh, I left the man to his fate.
16th of Last Seed
I had been in Riverwood for a few days waiting for my wounds to properly heal when I realized that I had no armor and no axe. So, seeking to rectify this, I approached the village blacksmith, a burly Nord by the name of Alvor, and asked for use of his forge.
"I don't see the harm in it, as long as you know what you're doing and don't break anything." He had simply replied, and we worked out a deal. After Alvor retired for the day, I would come to his forge and work, leaving the gold for any materials I used in a small strong box. Alvor was skeptical at this. But, after I assured him that the code of Malacath, which I closely live by, forbids theft he allowed it. With the agreement in order, I began forging some proper tools of war. I spent all the gold that I had made selling the scavenged gear from Helgen in the process, but after a few days of constant work I was done. The banded Iron was nothing extraordinary, but it would keep me alive. The steel battle axe, however, was something I was proud of. It wasn't double-headed like some axes the Nord's made. It didn't need the extra weight, so I opted for a spike to pierce armor instead. Early in the morning the day after I finished my task, I was sitting on a log silently and sharpening the blade when Gerdur approached me.
"How is your chest?" She crossed her arms as she asked the question.
"Good enough to work a forge," I replied, looking up from my axe.
"I see that. Impressive work," she paused for a moment with a thoughtful look on her face. "As I said, I was more than happy to help and keep helping. But, there is something you could do for us." She finished, gesturing to the village as a whole. "If there is a dragon about, the Jarl needs to know. Riverwood is defenseless against that type of beast."
"And you want me to be the one to tell him." I responded.
"I would go myself, but I have duties to attend to."
"Don't worry, it's the least I can do," I grunted as I stood up. "Been itching to do something anyway." After thanking me, Gerdur left to start the mill. I took a long breath of the early morning air, savoring the crispness of it.
'Definitely better than a Hammerfall morning.' I thought as I made my way to the general store to speak to the owner, a small man called Lucan, whose nasally voice put me on edge. And unfortunately, it was the first thing I heard.
"I SAID NO! NO HEROICS! NO THEATRICS! AND NO THIEF CHASING!" the shout was surprising coming from the mild-mannered man, his face red with rage. "Oh! Welcome back...sorry about that." The Imperial offered lamely as he noticed me standing in the doorway.
"Thief chasing?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.
"Oh, we had a minor break in, nothing major. We are still open for business."
"What did the thieves take?" I continued. Whatever it was must be important for him to be screaming about it.
"Just one thing… a golden claw." He sighed as he looked to what I assumed was the aforementioned claw's former resting place. "It wasn't very important, it just was sentimental." I looked around the room and saw Lucan's sister, Camilla. She looked angry and on the verge of letting lose her own shout.
"I could retrieve it for you." I offered, crossing my arms.
"You would do that? That's kind." Lucan said, seeming confused, yet hopeful.
"Not kind, practical. I need to journey to Whiterun, but don't have gold to pay for the supplies I need. So, if I receive this claw for you, that serves as the payment for what I need." I was going to try to work out a similar deal before I knew about this claw of his.
"Whiterun isn't a far trek. You wouldn't need much…" The Imperial seemed to do the math in his head before speaking again. "It seems fair, you have a deal. Get the claw back and you'll get your supplies. The thieves are in Bleak Falls Barrow." We shook hands and with that, I left the trader.
I began making my way towards the ruin. The prospect of going alone was not thrilling, but Ralof had left for Windhelm yesterday and I didn't trust anyone else here to cover me in a fight. So, it seemed that I had to do it on my own.
The trek up to the ruin which cast its shadow over the small village was long and bitterly cold. I struggled my way up the mountain for nearly an hour before I ran into the first of the bandits. Partially hidden in the heavy snowfall, a lone watch tower came into view and with it, two bandits, who leapt at the chance for a fight. They jumped into motion as soon as they saw me.
"You've chosen a bad day to get lost, friend." An Argonian chuckled as he drew his blade.
"Who says I'm lost, lizard?" I growled as I called Oak Flesh to my hands.
"So, here's how this works, mister magic hands." The Nord next to the Argonian spoke up, lazily holding a mace in his hands. "You give us all your coins and valuables and we won't gut you like a horker."
"Does this work often? Because you two are the least intimidating excuses for bandits I have ever seen." I laughed as I cast my spell.
"That's it. You're dead, fool!" The Argonian snarled as he charged forward with his sword. I quickly shot out flames from both my palms. They weren't strong, but they were enough to stop his charge. He screeched in surprise as he jumped out of the way of the streams of fire. The Nord slammed his mace against his shield and, not a second later, I staggered back as an arrow hit my throat. It bounced off the hardened skin and casting my gaze upwards, I spotted an archer at the top of the tower.
"This might actually be fun." I grunted as I readied my axe. The Argonian had recovered from the fire and made an undisciplined overhead swing with his sword. The blade bounced off my plate as I swung at his lightly armored torso with the axe. My efforts were rewarded with a spray of hot blood and a scream of pain. I withdrew the axe blade and readied myself to finish the Argonian off when I had to dodge another arrow, which carried me right into the Nord's blow. I grunted as I felt my armor deform from the strength of the strike, quickly turning around and slamming my boot into his knee. As he fell, he raised his shield to protect himself. I struck into the shield with the spike on my axe, piercing through it and into his arm. He screamed as I wrenched the spike out.
"So, who was gonna gut me?" I asked.
"That would be me, no-tusk." A rough voice called from behind me. I turned to see an Orc clad in rough iron, his face covered in scars and holding a massive sword in his hands.
"Finally, a challenge!" I barked as I brought my axe down on the groaning Nord's stomach. I dragged the axe out of the bandit and began walking towards the Orc. The Argonian had got up and was rapidly breathing.
"Gonna... kill... you…" He gasped as he charged again. As he reached me, he swung to the side, his blade slamming into my armor. I backhanded him and as he fell, I slammed my axe into his throat. With a gurgle he fell off of the blade, his blood melting the snow around us. It was my turn to charge as the Orc and I rushed each other. His sword was held in a position to impale me. As we reached each other he went to stab my throat, but missed as I lowered myself and slammed into his stomach, picking him up. I ran for a few more feet before tossing him off my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
An arrow flew by my head as I took a quick swipe at my foe with the axe, a shallow cut appeared on his check and he growled and stood up. He swiped his blade at my arm, impacting the Oak Flesh coating me, but still managing to cut it slightly. I struck out with the axe again, showering us in sparks as it dragged along his chest plate. I dodged a swing of his sword and slammed the pommel of my axe into his face. He staggered back, but blocked the blow I sent towards him. With a roar, he lashed out and brought his blade against the flesh of my face, cutting through the Oak Flesh and leaving a long slice in my cheek. I snarled as I recoiled from the blow.
"You fight well. It will be an honor to kill you." The bandit spoke as he stood straight once more.
'Finally, an opponent who understands.'
"As do you. Malacath receives a worthy warrior this day, no matter who wins." I responded, cracking my neck. I rushed forward and struck out with the spike of my axe. He dodged it narrowly and slammed his pommel into my skull, forcing me to back up. I let out a surprised shout as I felt an arrow pierce my arm. I looked down to see that Oak Flesh had worn off. The bandit had a smirk on his scarred face.
"You clever bastard." I laughed as I broke the arrow shaft. I dodged as another arrow flew past my head. 'Oh, I'm going to enjoy killing you,' Me and the Orc paced around each other before he charged again. I moved forward and swung the spike towards him, allowing his sword to cut into my arm. He grunted in pain as the spike went through his armor and into his stomach. Wrenching the spike out brought him to his knees and with an upward strike, I cut his throat and finally ended it.
'Father of Parathas, accept this warrior into you home. For he is mighty and will honor you in death, as he should have in life.' A grim smile on my face, I began making my way up the tower.
"Hey, we can work this out…" I heard as I neared the top.
"We can," I laughed. "Stand still and it will be a clean slice." Finally, I stood face to face with the Dunmer who had been peppering me with arrows, an expression of fear on his face.
"There's no need to get viole-" his plea was cut short as I kicked him in the stomach, sending him over the edge of the tower.
Malacath, I needed that.