Skyrim: Legend of the Dovahkiin

Instruction 6

Lydia let a wave of relief wash over her as she and her Thane finally arrived in Riverwood. Their journey was made easier and much faster thanks to the horses they had taken from a small group of bandits that had attacked them on the road. That and the fact that her Thane had a habit of trudging onward through the night despite her warning of the dangers it posed. Lydia found that attempting to reason with the young Companion was a fruitless endeavor, he almost always disagreed or outright ignored her. Despite his stubbornness he was not at all unreasonable, as he would often make sure they got as much rest as possible while traveling.

Leaving the horses tethered outside near the guards' camp, the two travelers made their way towards the Inn. As they waded through the throngs of merchants, traders and traveling adventures, Spartacus kept a firm grip on the handle of his sword. He wasn't sure if the person that had taken Jurgen's horn was acting alone or with accomplices, and the probability of someone trying to kill them while in the crowed was not unlikely. Living in Cyrodiil for the bulk of his twenty five years of life on Nirn, Spartacus knew how easy it would be for an assassin to slip a dagger between his ribs and quickly disappear back amongst the masses, and he wasn't going to be caught unprepared.

He and Lydia made their way inside the Inn, surprised to see just how busy it was for the time of day. They made their way to an empty table close to the front counter and sat down, their eyes sweeping over the tavern for any signs of suspicious individuals, though Lydia was unsure of what they were actually looking for.

"So," the Housecarl began as she settled into her seat. "See anyone who could have taken the horn?"

Spartacus shook his head. "No one stands out, from what I can see from everyone in here."

"And outside? There were many adventurers going in and out of Lucan's store for supplies, and even more who stopped by the smith's forge for repairs or new weapons."

"Doubtful. Besides, whoever has the horn told us to rent the attic room and they'd meet us. So, no use waiting any longer than we have to."

The Harbinger gestured for the Inn's owner who was chatting away behind the counter with her bartender, Orgnar. The woman nodded and made her way over to their table. As she approached, Spartacus briefly wondered how long she'd been running the tavern. She was an older woman, twice his age, but she was still attractive. She wore a simple blue nordic dress, had a pair of beautiful sky colored eyes, long brown hair that went past her shoulders and snow like pale skin. Her body, despite being that of an older woman, still showed off a curvy, well endowed figure that would make even the most youthful of women jealous.

"Greetings," she started, her voice still as friendly as he remembered the last time he was in Riverwood "Can I get you two something?"

"The attic room, I'd like to rent it."

As the words of his request were leaving his lips, Spartacus noticed a sudden change in the normally cheerful tavern owner's demeanor. Her eyes flashed with a sudden caution and surprise and her jaw quickly clenched. It lasted for only a split second before it returned to it's normal cheerfulness, but Spartacus's trained eyes had already caught it.

Eloa seemed to realize this as well.

"The attic room, eh?" she said, the faintest trace of a smile adorned on her lips. "Thing is... we don't actually have an attic room, but I think I know what you mean. Take the last room on the left, make yourself at home," She quickly eyed Lydia, who had been warily eying her for some time now. "She stays, no exceptions."

The Housecarl's response was immediate. "No."

"Lydia..." Spartacus started, his voice low.

"My Thane while I am fully aware that you can take care of yourself, I cannot allow to simply walk right into a potential trap with this..." Lydia glared hard at the Inn keeper. "Stranger."

Spartacus cast a quick glance in Eloa's direction, surprised to see that she didn't seem to react to his Housecarl's distrust of her before turning his attention back to Lydia.

"I'm not giving you a choice in this matter, Lydia," the Harbinger said as he made rose from the table and made his way towards the room, Eloa turned and walked towards the room near their table. "Stay here."

Lydia stood up. "My Thane—"

Spartacus turned and glared at her. "Stay here, Lydia. That's an order," his voice was low, but held no aggression. "Is that understood?"

Lydia looked defiant and ready to argue, taking a challenging step forward. But slowly, she relented and stepped back, dipping her head in a small bow. "Of course, forgive me, my Thane."

Spartacus turned on his heels and went straight for the room Eloa had gestured to. It was an unassuming little room, standard among most if the Inns in Skyrim. A single bed, a small table and a chest for storing luggage. Spartacus sat in the chair on the far end of the room near the head of the bed and waited for Eloa to return. If he was being honest with himself, he never would have guessed that the friendly tavern owner was the one who had taken Jurgen's horn from the tomb. Everything about her seemed so... normal. She bore no scars from what he could tell, and her hands weren't calloused over from weapon use. Her movements also seemed dull and sluggish, at least in his seasoned eyes.

As he pondered on the woman, it occurred to him that maybe everything about Eloa was all some elaborate act. More than a few times had he been tricked by targets who had played the parts of the unassuming nobody to a tee. He'd quickly leaned ways to spot such ruses, but that never made it any easier. The sound of light footsteps pulled the young Nord out of his thoughts and he looked up to see the very object of his thoughts approaching, carrying a dark object in her hands.

The woman quietly closed the door behind her before turning to face the Harbinger. Her eyes roamed over every part of the Nord's body as she gave him a quick look over. Spartacus merely remained in his seat and let her do as she pleased.

"So, you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about," She said as a matter of factly. Spartacus sat with one leg crossed over the other, saying not a word.

Eloa continued. "Here, I think this belongs to you." she said as she tossed the horn his way.

Spartacus briefly examined the artifact before securing it to his belt and rose from his seat. Eloa turned and opened the door. "We need to talk, follow me."

The Harbinger frowned. "Hm, you're a pretty needy thing aren't you? Fine, lets talk then. I'd be lying if I said you haven't stroked my curiosity."

With a nod Eloa led the young Nord to the room just opposite the one they were in and stood by the wardrobe. "Close the door."

Nodding, Spartacus did as she asked. The Inn keeper then opened the wardrobe and pulled on a hidden switch, revealing a hidden underground room.

Spartacus' brow went up. Well I'll be damned...

He quickly followed her down into the secret room, careful to close the sliding door behind him. Eloa made her way to the table that sat in the center of the room and took a seat, her azure eyes drifting to the young Nords.

"So, it seems the Greybeards think you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right."

Spartacus strode over to the weapon rack on the far right of the room and leaned against the wall. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see that it was you of all people who managed to take the horn from its resting place," he looked her up and down. "You don't seem the tomb raiding type."

Eloa gave a light chuckle as she leaned back in her seat. "Surprised? I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act. But that's good. The whole point of being in hiding is to appear to be someone you're not."

Though her admission of being in hiding piqued his curiosity, the young Harbinger decided not to press her on the issue. He already had plenty to deal with and the last thing he wanted was to become involved in whatever or whoever she was hiding from.

"So, what's with all the cloak and dagger?" he gestured around the room.

The innkeepers eyes grew serious. "Can't be too careful, spies everywhere."

Spartacus shook his head. "Spies, huh? This just keeps getting more interesting by the minute. You said in the letter that you needed to speak to me. Urgently." he spread his arms out. "Well, here I am. What do you want?"

Eloa rose from her chair and began to pace the room. "Like I said, I need to speak with you. I knew the Greybeards would send you to retrieve the horn if they thought you were Dragonborn," she explained. "I also had information from reliable sources that backed up what the Greybeards believed, but I couldn't risk contacting you directly, so taking the horn was the only way I could get in touch with you. But, it was also the only way of knowing I wasn't walking into a trap."

Spartacus shot the woman a heated glare. "That's all well and good, but you'd better have a better reason than that for dragging me out here."

Eloa crossed her arms. "I didn't go through all this trouble on a whim. There are great forces at work here, and if you really are the Dragonborn, then you are literally the only person who can stop it."

Ever the skeptic, Spartacus shook his head. "What great forces? Who are you hiding from?"

Eloa sighed and shook her head. "I can't tell you that. What I can tell you is that we are very old enemies, and if my suspicions are correct, they might have something to do with the dragons returning. But that's not important. What is important is that you might be Dragonborn."

Spartacus inwardly cursed to himself. Spies, shady individuals, secret plots and plans. It was Cyrodiil all over, and he was smack in the middle of it all. Again.

"Just who in oblivion are you, Eloa?" he asked her.

She shook her head sadly. "I can't tell you that, at least not yet. What I can tell you is that I'm part of a group who has been searching for you... well, someone like you, for a very long time. That is of course if you really are Dragonborn. I cant say anymore, not until I'm sure I can trust you."

"Trust me?" Spartacus snapped, indignant. "I've done nothing but waste time since I arrived in this town. I risked mine and my Housecarl's life coming here to meet you and listen to your paranoid ramblings. I could have left the moment you gave me the horn, but instead I'm here."

Eloa put her hands up. "Look, I am not your enemy, I'm actually trying to help you," She explained. "I just need you to hear me out."

Spartacus considered the woman's request for a moment. On one hand, it was obvious she was withholding important information from him and wouldn't spill unless he cooperated with her. He had to admit, he was more than a bit curious as to how she knew so much about him. But he was quickly losing his patience with all the cloak and dagger tactics and wanted nothing more than to return to High Hrothgar to finish his training and get back to Whiterun as soon as possible.

In the end, his curiosity won out. "You have one minute." he said, leaning against the wall near the weapon rack.

"As I said before, I'm part of a group of individuals who've been searching for someone like you," Eloa explained. "Most, if not all Nords view the Dragonborn as a great hero, one who is to be revered and given the utmost respect. We however remember what many have forgotten: That the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragon slayer. You are the only one who can permanently kill a dragon by devouring its soul. At least... that's what the legends say," she looked him in the eyes. "Is that true in your case? Can you absorb a slain dragon's soul?"

Spartacus nodded. "It's how I first found out about all this."

Eloa seemed pleased. "Good, cause you're about to get the chance to prove it."

Spartacus raised a solitary brow. "And how do I do that exactly? There another secret room of yours that has a dragon inside?"

The Inn keeper went over to the table and pointed an a large map. "Dragons aren't just returning to Skyrim, they're coming back to life."

"Coming back to life?" Spartacus repeated, sounding skeptical.

"Yes, they weren't just gone somewhere for all these years, they were dead. Killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now there's something happening to bring them back to life, and I need you to help me stop it."

"You do realize how crazy this all sounds, don't you?" Spartacus remarked. Eloa opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off when the Nord raised his hand at her. "Is what I would say, had I not the things I have."

Spartacus noticed, much to his delight, that he had actually managed the catch the woman off guard.

"That's it? You believe me, just like that?" she said, hands on her curvacious hips.

"I don't have to believe you," he told her. "But I don't think you're making this up. There was an... incident I was involved with back in Cyrodiil." Eloa watch as a haunted look came over the young Nords features. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished. "If there was one thing that whole ordeal taught me, it was this: Every myth, every legend, has its origins steeped in fact."

Eloa let out a small chuckle. "You know, you sound like an old colleague of mine."

"Anyway," Spartacus started, ignoring her comment. "You said you were certain that dragons are coming back to life. I have to ask, how are you so sure?"

"I've visited their ancient burial sites, and found the mounds empty." She explained. "I know the location where the next one will spring to life at. We're going there, and you're going to kill that dragon. If you succeed, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Spartacus wasted no time with his answer. He was eager to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Well then," he said as he walked towards the exit. "You seem to have everything all figured out. The table has been set," he turned to Eloa. "Let's go kill this dragon, and get this over with."

Here we are people, at the end of yet another chapter. First off, I want to apologize to the utter lateness of this chapter. I know many of you are going to tell me not to apologize because its my story and I'm not getting paid for it, but as the author of a story that many people seem to enjoy, I feel I should be at least a little bit faster with putting the chapters out.

Now, many of you are probably wondering who the hell this Eloa chick is and what she's doing at the Sleeping Giants Inn. I promise everything about here will be revealed in chapter 20, if no one has picked up on it yet, then the truth might throw you for a loop. Also, if you guys notice any spelling errors please let me know about them so I can go back and correct my mistakes, thanks.

Finally, I want to thank everyone who have stuck by me after all this time, you guys are what make it all worth doing. And to the new readers, just sit back and enjoy, you're in for a hell of a treat.

Until the next chapter guys.

~Bang