Chapter 12: The Dragonstone

[21st – 22nd of Last Seed 4E 201]

Fiona, Freya, Faendal and I had entered Bleak Falls Barrow, and after navigating the various dangers and challenges, we had finally reached the big cavern behind the massive claw door. Fiona had found the word wall, and the boss draugr had risen from its sarcophagus. We had all worked together to fight the undead and escape its shouts, and when I had thought it was already almost done for, I had neglected to pay attention, and another 'FUS RO DAH' shout from the draugr had hit and thrown my body back into the word wall with considerable force, so that I had blacked out.

When I awoke, I needed some time to get my bearings. At least, I could not hear and sense any fighting noise around me, which was probably a good sign. On the other side, my head hurt badly, and I could also feel some aches from different parts of my body, in particular from my left leg. Somebody apparently noticed that I was regaining consciousness, and I heard Freya saying:

"B'lushona, you're waking up – good!"

She lifted my chin and poured the content of a small vial into my mouth; the taste was not great, but it did help to make me feel much better within just a few minutes, the aches were still there, but less intense at least.

"What happened?" I asked as soon as my dry throat allowed me to speak.

"Not much, except for you getting hit by a draugr shout" the shield-maiden responded. "We managed to defeat the draugr, which was no big deal as it was almost done for already, and since then we rested and waited for you to be back."

"Oh, I must have misjudged."

"Yes, looks like that. But don't worry; we got the job done and we are all okay. Well, I also needed a couple of healing potions, to be honest."

"And the other two?"

"Fiona and Faendal were far enough away to not get hit by the shouts, but they helped a lot by shooting their arrows; their arrows also finally killed the draugr once he had blasted you against the wall. Now, can you imagine that we also found the Dragonstone artifact we were looking for!"

"Yes, what about that?" Fiona now chimed in. "I found the Dragonstone on the dead draugr. How could the draugr have that bulky stone tablet on it all of the time? I mean, it does not have anything like a bag or a backpack or deep pockets or so."

"Fiona, this is Skyrim, a land of magic and mysticism. Lots of things are possible here which would not be doable on Earth."

A few minutes later I remembered something I wanted to find out, but had neglected to ask earlier, as we had been 'distracted' by the fight:

"Fiona, when you were over at the curved wall, did you hear voices like chanting or so?

"Yes, I did – but you surely heard that as well?"

I looked over at Faendal and Freya, and they both shook their heads.

"Well, I guess none of us did. You also saw some inscriptions glowing and felt a word moving into your mind, right?"

"Yes, something like that, but did you really not see and feel the same?"

"No, we did not. This is also something I read in a book, and I believe that it is related to the dragons."

Fortunately Fiona did not ask any more questions; I did not want to reveal too much before we had killed the first dragon and had final prove of her status. I still needed some more rest, and so did Freya. Some of my magicka was back and while the potion had done a good job, there was still a minor wound on my arm and another one of my leg. First I completed the healing on my arm, but the leg injury required more magicka than I had at this time. So, for now, I unpacked the food I had in my backpack and started to eat. I had a big body and needed lots of food, and while I was a little bit careful about food I found in shelves or barrels, it was better than nothing. I did prefer stew or roasted meat or fish at an inn or from a good cook like Gerdur, though.

During the enforced rest time I also looked around and marveled at the scenery around us. While the area was overall mostly dark and sincere, I liked the couple of places where streams of water emerged from holes high up in the walls and ended in the creeks on the ground. There were even a few spots where something, probably some kind of moss, grew, nourished mostly by water and light. Now, with the boss draugr defeated, one could almost revel in being here, in that very location where the first world wall was encountered, even if somebody else was the person who could actually read it; that was just fine for me.

About an hour later I had managed to get my leg fully healed, and if there was a tiny scar left, it was covered by fur which would grow back. My head felt mostly fine again, even though I likely had had a bad concussion; healing potions and my restoration magic had done a good job, though, and I considered myself ready for action again. If I had had such an accident in my human body, I might have either died or get crippled, but my new Khajiit body had not even suffered broken bones, only a severe concussion and lots of scratches, bruises and maybe contusions; apparently Akatosh had realized that my old body would not have been able to protect and assist the Dragonborn for long, even with plenty of health potions.

We sorted the goodies we had collected so far, and I realized that a person would not be able to carry a huge amount of loot around, for later sale, and still be able to move normally. However, there were four of us, and we managed to split the more valuable items – Faendal helped to sort that out – and distribute them between us, with me, being the strongest, getting the largest load. I also volunteered to take the heavy Dragonstone in my backpack – I estimated that this artifact alone weighed about ten kilograms – but before we went to search for the exit, I looked around one last time and grabbed a couple of books from a stone shelve on the platform; the books had been partially hidden, and I decided to read them at a later time.

The back door turned out to be located at the end of a passage we found after climbing another set of stairs, and of course it was protected against access from outside with a stone gate which could only be opened from the inside, by pushing and turning a handle on a pedestal. It did indeed appear that those who had originally constructed the dungeon had wanted to make sure that nobody could easily slip in via the back door and confront the 'end boss' directly without getting bothered by all of the minions before.

We found ourselves on a ledge south of the ruin, and the sun was already close to the horizon; we had spent almost a full day exploring the barrow and fighting our way through it. Once we had climbed down to the valley, we were able to take a shortcut back towards Riverwood across the river, not bothering with the bridge further downriver, but wading instead, using the shallows Faendal knew about. Our progress was a little bit impeded by rain, but we managed to get back into town without getting too wet. Once we were back, we first entered the store, not only to deliver the claw back to a grateful Lucan and collect the reward, but also to sell as many of the goodies as we could. It seemed that Lucan ran almost out of money when we left again, but at least Faendal՚s presence had helped to get decent prices, or that's what the wood elf claimed at least.

With dusk setting in, we stepped into the inn. From all of the money we had received for the loot we had collected, including what we had taken from the dead bandits, we could easily afford a nice dinner, a room, and then some more. Faendal of course did not need a room, as he lived here and had a house in town. The wood elf even suggested that I stay with him for the night, using his spare bed, and I gladly accepted.

While we started to dig into our dinner, the local bard provided some entertainment by playing the lute and also singing the occasional song, but I noticed that he did not look very happy and that he frowned a few times when looking at Faendal. Of course, the blond Nord was Sven, the Bosmer՚s competitor for Camilla's attention, and based on what I heard, this competition had not gone well recently for the bard. Even worse for him, Camilla herself came in and took a seat next to Faendal for a few minutes, and the Bosmer visibly enjoyed her presence, specifically when she placed one of her hands on his. When the lady had left again, we inevitably got back to the events of the day, and Freya was the most verbose of us:

"So, when are we going to see this dragon you mentioned?"

"What? I don't want to see this beast ever again! He was so huge and scary, and he almost killed all of us in Helgen!" Fiona exclaimed between some bites.

"Yes, but he did not, right? Anyway, as soon as I find this Dragonborn, they will encounter more dragons, I am sure."

"You may actually be right about that, Freya" I told her, while handing over a book. "Look, I found this book under Helgen, and it is about the Dragonborn. It claims that the legendary rulers of Tamriel, like Tiber Septim, were all Dragonborn. In our time, the book assumes that a Dragonborn is chosen to be a great dragon slayer, even being able to steal a dragon's power when they've killed one, whatever that exactly implies."

"Good – I can help with that, with the slaying part at least."

I just shook my head, and I wondered how the shield-maiden would react once she learned who that Dragonborn actually was, and how she would behave and react once she faced a real dragon. For now, though, I just responded:

"Freya, you may change your mind once you have actually seen such a dragon. The one in Helgen looked really dangerous, and many people have died from his attacks."

We did not pursue the topic any further, but after the meal Faendal had a few questions as well:

"So, where you are from, there are no dragons?"

"No, at least no living ones, although there are a few legends and fairy tales about them. We don't have any magic there either."

"No magic? None at all?"

"I know, that sounds odd. I still find it hard to believe that I can cast flames with my hands or heal myself, at least partially. I mean, it's great and I like it a lot, but in my world we do not have that kind of ability at all. We only have lots of fairy tales on people who can do magic, and, as I said, we also have legends about dragons and other creatures."

"So, I guess you like it here, don't you?"

Fiona took that one:

"Once people and monsters stop trying to kill me, I might, eventually. For now, I am just tired and exhausted. Good night!"

The two ladies had claimed a room at the inn with two beds and went there now, whereas I went with Faendal. While we walked the short distance to his home, he told me:

"You've been a good companion and mate today, and I don't mind having you around. Tomorrow I will work for Gerdur and Hod again, but going through that barrow was a nice change, although quite dangerous. I also very much enjoyed to have a fellow Bosmer with me for a change, too, even as her skills lack somewhat. But at least she can handle a bow."

"Yes, indeed, and I have been enjoying your company as well today, Faendal. Without your bow handling today, we'd have been in some scary situations, and as you have all noticed, I am not a very experienced fighter."

We had now reached the Bosmer՚s house, and he lead me inside. The building was not very big, and there was basically just one big room, although a small section was separated by some kind of curtain. It did appear like he was living alone, though, and this might just be enough. Before we found our beds, Faendal mentioned:

"Sven, the pompous bard, had written a letter to Camilla and asked the tiny wood elf to tell her that it was from me instead. Stupid idea, if you ask me, as the handwriting was not even close to mine. But anyway, she refused and told Camilla the truth, and I think she will not look at Sven again now. I regret to say that I was thinking about doing something similar, and I am very glad that I did not actually stoop to that low level. I owe Fiona, and that's why I went to Whiterun and then to the barrow with Freya and her."

"So, you and Sven are both courting Camilla?"

"Yes, you could say that. What she finds in that bard I do not know and do not understand at all, but now she has seen his real self. Hopefully I will have a better chance with her soon, specifically as she now knows that I helped to get her brother's claw back. The way she looked at me when she was next to me for some time this evening was definitely encouraging."

We talked a little more about Riverwood and its residents, but soon I started to yawn and got tired. The elf's spare bed, not actually a real bed, but not much more than a compressed pile of straw with a couple of blankets on top, was not quite long enough for me, but I coped and slept well.

Being an early riser here as well as I had been in my previous life I got up with the first sign of dawn; Faendal was also awake and, despite the light rain outside, just prepared himself to go out for a morning hunt. I thanked him for his hospitality, and when he had left, I went outside to look around. Seeing the many flowers around I got an idea and picked a number of what I believed to be blue mountain flower, and then I checked behind the inn, finding the expected small field with wheat. Actually, the field was larger than I recalled, though by far not as large as one of Phintis' fields outside of town, and there were leeks, potatoes and some other vegetables as well. I felt tempted to just take what I wanted like in the game, but I suspected that reality might be different. Thus, I stepped into the inn, found Orgnar and asked:

"Orgnar, say, would it be all right for me to take just a little bit of the wheat behind the house?"

"What would you need that for?"

"I have some blue mountain flower as well, and if you'd also allow me to use the alchemy table here, I could try to make some healing potions."

He looked up, smiled, and replied:

"Hey, that's a good idea. Tell you what – if you give me half of the potions you make, you can take as much wheat as you want. It's always good to have some of those around for travelers. Can you also create some stamina potions?"

"I am afraid I may not have the proper ingredients for those yet, but maybe another day."

"Okay, so why don't you start with the healing potions."

"Deal!"

I collected some wheat – I was not sure if it was coincidence that some of it was ready for harvesting right now or if one could always harvest here – and went into the inn again, starting to familiarize myself with the alchemy table. I needed to improvise; while I had done lots of alchemy in the game, reality would likely request a little bit more than just dropping ingredients on the table, bowing down and pretending to do something useful. Okay, when doing alchemy in the 'Oblivion' game, the basic set of tools was a mortar and pestle; that's what I recalled at least. Something what looked like a mortar was integrated into the table, and I put some of my ingredients in, starting with the blue mountain flower. Carefully I used a pestle I found in a small drawer under the table and started to crunch the flowers until I had a fine powder. I did the same with the wheat, and then I mixed both together. I added the powder to the small bowl above the apparatus, provided water from a large jug next to the table and started to heat up the mixture using some kind of device I did not really understand but managed to use after a few attempts; was this something like a calcinator or an alembic? I probably got it all mixed up with the terms, and my basic chemistry lessons at school had been a very long time ago, but I might not have to fully understand the procedure to apply it; above and beyond that, at least part of the process here was probably magic rather than chemistry anyway. I also got a small bottle from the large storage area under the device and placed it under the final end of the retort, to allow the resulting potion to drop in there. I needed to wait for a few minutes, and then the bottle started to fill. The problem was that I did not know if what I had created was indeed a proper healing potion or something else; how could I find out?

While I still pondered this problem, the bottle was almost full; the heating process stopped, the flow of the liquid ended, and I knew that a cork needed to be applied. I did not have to worry about that, though; as if by magic – probably literally – the bottle corked itself, and once this was completed, there was a sound like a soft 'pling' from the alchemy table, like the audio signal a computer or phone might produce to signal an incoming message. At the same time the small bottle appeared to change; while it had been almost fully transparent at the start, it was now changing to green, keeping a partial transparency. Also, some kind of seal appeared, preventing the cork from being removed by accident, and some engravings were now showing on the bottle, something like 'Heal 6p'. Was that supposed be something like 'minor healing', or maybe, with my very mediocre skill here, more like 'just a tiny bit of healing'?

Wow – I had not expected that, but it made sense, although it was kind of surreal. Of course I tried to do the same again, but this time – I had probably paid less attention to what I was doing – the process failed. No cork and no seal appeared, and a different 'pling' sounded. The liquid was discarded, and I had to start again. Fortunately I had enough ingredients for more attempts, and I found that less than half of my attempts worked, at least according to the judgment of the table. But anyway, about one hour later I had produced about a dozen healing potions with the 'Heal 6p' label. The bottles I had filled were much smaller than I remembered, but maybe their size had just been exaggerated in the game for easier finding and handling or so; the bottles were more like vials, like those one got in a pharmacy filled with some medicine or pills. Anyway, as promised I gave half of them to the barkeeper, Orgnar. I asked him about the alchemy table, the automatism it provided and the labels on the bottles, and he laughed:

"You are really new in Skyrim, aren't you?"

I nodded, and he explained:

"Alchemy tables are ancient, and many scholars believe that they were left by the Dwemer. They are almost impossible to break, and this is good, because nobody around would know how to produce new ones, at least none with the special effects. Everybody can mix potions, but only those sealed by such a table are known to last and to be reliable. Of course, it requires a lot of practice to mix the stronger and more capable ones. Yours are very weak, just good enough if somebody has a small cut somewhere, but don't worry; nobody is born a master alchemist."

"But how do the bottles get in there?"

"That's something I do not know. Delphine, my boss and the inn's owner, might have more knowledge, though."

A tall Breton lady in blueish work clothes, who looked like she was in her early fifties or so, had heard our conversation, came closer to us and chimed in:

"Indeed, I do, though not much. Nobody knows any longer how those tables really work. I have never seen one of them run out of bottles or corks, so that I assume there is some kind of ancient Dwemer magic behind it. I also do not know how the table knows if a potion is good or not, but the verdict seems to be reliable. I do know that most people get better with practice, so over time you will be able to create stronger potions. Most people are not patient enough to spend that much time, but those who do and have a gift for it, have a good chance to become a valued alchemist. Master alchemists can brew healing potions to restore a normal person back to full health from gravely wounded with one tiny bottle alone, and they can sell those for quite a few septims. Sadly, we don't have such a master alchemist here in Riverwood, but there's at least one in each hold capital, for sure."

Fascinating, indeed. Not only what she talked about, but also Delphine herself. In her normal clothes I would never have suspected her secret life; she really looked and spoke almost like a normal innkeeper. Most likely she had had not only years, but decades to practice her cover. I thanked her with a courteous nod, and now the door to one of the guestrooms opened; Freya and Fiona came out, both fully dressed and ready for breakfast. The tiny wood elf scowled when she saw me and ignored me completely, but Freya at least bade me a good morning and politely and respectfully bowed her head, which I returned.

After they had eaten, though, Fiona could not ignore me any longer and asked:

"You still have that Dragonstone with you, right?"

I nodded, and she continued:

"Look, the stone is too heavy for me to carry around; would you be willing to go to Whiterun with us so that I can bring it to Farengar?"

It sounded a little like I was just good enough as a pack horse, but if events were going to unfold as I expected, I certainly wanted to be there, so that I agreed nonetheless:

"My ladies, it will be a pleasure and an honor to do that."

My way of speaking earned me another scowl from the wood elf, but the shield-maiden appreciated it and rewarded me with a big smile. I started to like the Nord lady, actually, and looking at her made me wonder what kind of woman I might prefer in my new Khajiit body. Not that I actually dared to have ambitions in that direction, of course, at least for now. Sooner or later, though, it would be very good to find a nice and pretty girlfriend.

Meanwhile, I'd at least try to keep Freya as good friend, and who knew, maybe more would develop at a later time?

[Author's Notes: A word on crafting: Alchemy, smithing, and other stuff, like learning a spell from a tome, will not be as easyas inthe game here in this story. IMO it does not make a lot of sense to just bow your head over a table, click a few virtual buttons and get a potion just like this. On the other hand, I feel like needing some kind of QA – quality assurance –so that I got the idea of alchemy tables with 'Dwemer magic' for that purpose.I do have plans to use Dwemer magic and technology for other conceptsas well later on.