A/N: Sorry for the wait, was in the middle of a move. Plus this chapter was almost dragging to write yet a story needs development right :) Tell me what you think and thank you for all the reviews and favorites. I hope I don't dissapoint.
He can feel the flames heat spurn around him. Air tasting the black of smoke. Rohan's eyes open to see the burning village circling him. Harsh whispers echo around him yet not a soul saunders in the inferno riddled hamlet.
"Mah deh joore!" the words echo. "Av dilon!"
Rohan breathes heavy as he sits on the ground stricken fear, seeing that he was alone watching Helgen burn around him. He was alone until he looks right in front of him and sees the black scaled drake hover above him, it's fire red eyes gazing down upon him with the most evil sneer.
The dragon opens its jagged maw and thunders shutters out until everything then suddenly goes black. A brief image flashes before him, a mountain where a tomb lays. Another flashes of a cave deep below whispers echoing: "...Here lies the guardian Keeper of thedragonstone, And a force of unending rage and darkness…." A thundering chant echoes on and on…"Force...Force...Force"
Rohan breaks from his sleep, now sitting up in his bedroll he wipes the perspiration from his brow as he comes to compose himself from the furious dream. It had been almost two weeks since the dragon attack in Helgen and Rohan had found shelter in the comfort and care of Hadvar's aunt and uncle, it being a bedroll in the corner of the cottage basement.
"Rough night again?" spoke Sigrid, Rohan had not notice she was in the room with him, she did not face him when she poke only keeping her attention to whatever it was she was rummaging for in a pantry. "Yeah…" Rohan sighed. "Helgen again..." he says rubbing his temples.
Sigrid looked then looked to him showing concern "Was it the same as last time."
Rohan stood up to stretch his body, "Yes and no." he said groaning a yawn. "At the end of the dream there was… a mountain."
"A mountain?"
"Looked like the one where the village lays under, the one with the crypt on top." he says "In flash there was a cave and then….chanting."
"Chanting? You heard someone chanting?" Sigrid showing some disbelief.
"More like a calling really. Ever since I've came here and Hadvar told the story about barrow on it's peak, it would sometimes sneak up on me when I'm dreaming as if it's calling me."
"Perhaps if we get some hay I can get Alvor to fashion you a bed?" Sigrid suggested. "Get you off that floor, maybe then you can sleep good."
"No my lady, I wouldn't bother you or your husband with that." Rohan said. A disgruntled look pursed Sigrid's face. "I've told you not to call me that, ain't no nobles here." she giggled. "Just Sigrid."
"Yes..uh...Sigrid, of course." said Rohan his face flushing a little red. "Like I said it's nothing serious, I'll just put the mead before bed off for a while."
Sigrid snorted a laugh, "With you and Hadvar that'll be the day." she muttered.
Rohan got to his feet stretching the sores tightness from his muscles, dressing into a shirt with his pants he had been wearing for the night before heading up the stairs. "There's still breakfast on the table if you want!" Sigrid called out as Rohan left, "And you can catch Hadvar with Alvor at the forge!"
Rohan decided to skip sitting down for breakfast instead settling for a quick bite with an apple. Stepping outside to the patio on where Alvor keeps his forge/shop he finds both the smith and Hadvar working on repairs to Hadvar's uniform. His soldier's tunic was tattered and the main lining of chainmail was ripped from its padding. Alvor was already set in mending the torn patches with boiled leather pressing it with a steel ingot, an old blacksmith's trick he learned in during his days in the legion. Hadvar was sitting idle on a small stool sharpening a small iron dagger. "Ralof snuck out of town during the middle of the night." spoke Hadvar starting an idle chat. Alvor was paying no mind to the subject, only concentrating on his work. "Aye." his response.
"No doubt he's halfway towards Windhelm." said Hadvar.
"Mhmm." his uncle responded.
"Gerdur gave me a funny look earlier when I found out Ralof had gone." Hadvar continued. "You think she's passing word to Windhelm."
Alvor abruptly stopped his work, "Hadvar. Leave it!" he snapped. A silence drew in as they both glared at each other. Alvor wanted to break silence so his turned back to his work, "You're not on duty right now. So leave it." he said trying to sound calm yet the irritation he had earlier still slightly resonated. Hadvar only grumbled.
"I don't know what's up with you two." Alvor says speaking of both Hadvar's and Ralof's relationship. "The two of you were the thickest of comrades since the both of you were nothing but mere whelps."
"We both wanted to be in legion." Hadvar grumble as if in a lament, he stopped fiddling with the knife and only dazed out as his mind trailed back to the days where there was peace. "I wanting to join because of my Pa and he wanting to just travel."
"Things hasn't been the same since that mess in Markarth." Alvor spoke, "And we have Ulfric Stormcloak to thank for that." He says his face mired in a look of disgust. "Jarls bickering Jarls, Thalmor prowling the streets." He continue to mumble. "Now this damn talk of dragons coming back!? Gods are punishing us indeed."
"Evgir Unslaad." spoke someone. Both Hadvar and Alvor turn to see Rohan stepping onto the patio, he munching on an apple. "You said the Gods are punishing us yeah?" he says. Alvor nods his head.
"Season Unending is what the old nords called it. When brother fights brother and blood taints the land. Strife comes upon Skyrim and doom befalls us all." Rohan says in ever so casual tone, he was merely reciting some old nord proverb he heard when he was nothing more than a lad. Course he never truly believe in superstition, paying no mind to whatever deity's cause, Aedra nor Deadra.
"Aye" Alvor sigh, turning back to his work. "Looks like we're going back to the old way, during the harsh bloody times of our ancestors." he spat.
Hadvar only snorted, "Some nords would say that it's a good thing." he mutters recalling the cheap propaganda from some stormcloak purveyors.
"Which it is your job to keep it from turning that way!" Alvor snapped, speaking to his nephew, "You're a soldier of the Empire, Tiber Septim's Empire, Talos's legacy." he stated. "Emperor Septim himself didn't save his homeland from its own annihilation to create the mightest civilization since Reman Cyrodiil just to see it gone to Oblivion!"
Rohan did a small chuckle, "No he had to kill everyone else instead, bretons, argonians, elves. Just to save nords from themselves." He mutters to himself, finishing his apple. "Speaking of the Empire going to Oblivion, didn't that almost literally happen?" He joked. That made Hadvar crack a smile a little.
Alvor shook his head at Rohan's vain humor but couldn't help but appreciate it. This man, nord or not was a newcomer, and had yet to see the full reality on what Skyrim was becoming. "Crack as many jokes you like Rohan." Alvor teased. "Just know you can't laugh at anything no matter how hard you try."
"Laughing at the shit of the world is easy master Alvor." said Rohan. "All you have to do is start by smiling at it." Both he and Hadvar began to giggle loudly.
Their little laugh was cut short as once they saw Gerdur, the mill owner and appointed chief walk towards their forge. Hadvar quickly got up from his seat to head inside. Gerdur was Ralof's older sister and known stormcloak sympathizer. And yet although both Alvor and Gerdur had opposite views on the civil war they both were mature enough to set aside politics and communicate with one another. Riverwood was too small of a village for rivalries and heated political banter to take hold of. And Alvor and Gerdur both knew to work with one another was more important for it was for the good of the village. Still Hadvar knew it was best to avoid Gerdur, for he was nothing but a walking example of Alvor's leanings.
As Gerdur stepped up to the porch she had almost bumped into him but said nothing, neither did Hadvar both not giving either a passing glance. She waited for Hadvar to enter the home before speaking. "Morning Alvor." her voice calm and quaint.
"Morning." said Alvor with a curt nod.
"Sorry to bother you but the saw on the mill jammed again and I'd rather not have Hod get his head cleaved off..." Gerdur stopped in her trail of words seeing that Alvor had been busy working some time on some armor piece, a legion soldier's armor piece at that. "I'm sorry you looked to be busy I…"
"There's no harm Gerdur." said Alvor, "I'll finish up here and go on over to take a look."
"No need." Rohan spoke, "I'll go over and see what's wrong. Finish your work master Alvor."
"The blade's stuck in the damn oak." said Hod as Rohan stepped around the mill examining it. He could the saw wedge into the thick base of wood as it was stuck in the surveyor. "Had to stop the mill from running any power." Hod used his thumb to point over to the water wheel that stopped in it turn, keeping the machinery to continue functioning so they could fix the saw safely without worrying about losing a limb.
"The blade's too dull to cut through old oak like this." said Rohan, he could tell the trees age by the shade of its wood plus its rings.
"I've told Faendal to cut tender wood only." grumbled Hod, "It ain't the season for oak this thick, you'd think a wood elf would know it's well...wood."
"Saw just need sharpening its all." said Rohan satisfied with his conclusion.
"Tis al!?" snapped Hod, "Do you know how much a new saw cost let alone to get it sharpened?"
"Relax, your wife asked if it to be fixed. Just need some heat to melt corundum to make it sturdy and silver to sharpen it." said Rohan as he began to take the blade from its hatch.
Rohan's remedy worked well as he heated the saw of the forge, Alvor helping. "This is an old legionnaires trick." said Alvor recalling his days in the imperial army.
"My father was a blacksmith in the legion too, he then forged swords and armor for the local guard garrison." said Rohan, steaming the saw with water so the melted corundum could cool. "He taught me a thing or two." he said adding more water to the hot blade. "Can keep sharpening the blade without reinforcing it, makes it brittle." Rohan said.
"I should hire you as my apprentice with the knowledge you've got." said Alvor. Rohan only chuckled, "Me your apprentice? That'll just make Dorthe jealous."
"Blade's done already?" Hod said, coming to smith with Gerdur. "That's great! We can atleast get some work done before sundown." said Gerdur smiling. Hod frowned at his wife, "Just wanting to throw my back out soon eh?" he mumbled.
"Me and Rohan can go set it up for you once the blade is done cooling." said Alvor.
"Don't sweat it Alvor, you've done enough for us already." said Gerdur she then looked to her husband as if giving him the clue to move his lazy ass. "Hod!"
As Alvor helped Hod with the saw, Rohan stood by wiping his soot matted hands with a cloth looking up to the mountain peak close by. He gazed at the protruding ruins on the mountain's topside. Gerdur walked up next to him looking in his direction. "I can't see how you folk can live so close to a tomb?" Rohan said.
"Bleak Falls? Wouldn't be Skyrim if we didn't have a place to bury our ancient dead." said Gerdur.
"It gives me nightmares." said Rohan shuttering, "I feel as if I can hear something speaking to me coming from there. Ralof often spoke of sleepless dead roaming the halls. Draugr they're called?"
Gerdur raised an eyebrow she could sense of hint of doubt within his question, "You don't believe in such tales?"
Rohan only shrugged his shoulders, "Back in Cyrodiil I didn't really know much Skyrim or nord customs. Had to learn of my heritage from an old nord that would visit my father's forge. Ogni was his name. Was a drunken bastard who would fight the nearest person that looked at him funny, but he would tell the best of stories. All crazy and with embellishments of course."
"So his crazy tales made you a skeptic?" said Gerdur.
"Learning things from a book can take you a long way but for me, knowledge gained from experience is greater."
"Gerdur!" called Hod. Both she and Rohan turned to see him, "I'm off to the Giant to treat Alvor and Rohan for some ales."
Gerdur's brow furrowed, "You mean you're going to sit on your arse and drink till night fall!"
"There's still daylight woman!" Hod snapped back as if that was to make his excuse any clearer. Rohan laughed, "Well" he says with a smirk, "There's no denying a rye."
Rohan sat in the corner table to himself in parlor of the Sleeping Giant Inn with his mind in a whirlwind. It had been almost a week and a half since Helgen and his mind still addled on the traumatizing event burrowed itself deep within his brain. And still there was something more, that barrow, Bleak Falls it kept coming to him in his dreams as if it was to tell him something. "Dreams are but a reflection on what we have done with ourselves and what answers we must seek." His adoptive mother's words speaking his mind.
He touch the smooth obsidian Amulet of Talos dangling from his neck, "Answers…" His mind speaks. Rohan suddenly caught out of his daze as the Inn keep Delphine places a tankard full of fresh brewed mead on the table in front of him.
"Oh!" he says slightly startled taking the cup for a sip. "Mmm...good!"
"Orgnar brewed it this morning, already went through two barrels." Delphine says in a boast, "Should try to our hand at the market."
"I'm sure meadery in Riften won't take kindly to the competition." said Rohan taking a few more gulps, "There's already Honningbrew they contend with."
Their conversation was then abruptly cut short from a loud bang on a table second with howls of laughter cackling out that it drowned out any sound in the inn's main hall. Four men, two of them nords, one an imperial all look to be lead by a behemoth of an orc. They were not locals of this village, "just travelers passing through" as they said, yet one look of them would say that was pure mammoth shit. The three men were dressed in thick hide/leather armor where the orc was in thick iron plate. All of them were armed.
"Those four have been here since morning." Rohan heard Delphine mutter. "They've been giving you trouble?" Rohan asked. Delphine shook her head, "Not yet. Orgnar been keeping them sauced with mead but that was just to keep them from harassing the other patrons."
"Won't be long till they do however." said Rohan indicating that soon everyone in Riverwood would retire here after work for a few tankards before they call it a night.
Delphine nodded and decided it was time these folk were on their way. From the few days he's been coming to Inn he took the innkeep Delphine as a very stern strong willed woman nearing her fifties yet one could not tell by her age by the glossiness of her smooth skin, bretons had that type of flare of looking younger than they seem. Delphine had a disposition of not putting up with your shit type of attitude that Rohan respected and expected from her being the fact that she was woman owning a business.
However what he didn't expect her to do was walk up to those group of rowdy men BY HERSELF to confront them.
The group of vagabonds did not notice her approach, instead their attention was entirely eloped to the orc who was busy blathering loudly of tall tale.
"So you guys know I did some work back in High Rock right?" He says in his loud gruff orcish tone. "There was priestess of Dibella back in Shornhelm, redguard broad." he says, "Forgot her name...Taya...or Deah..or…."
"Yeah...Yeah she had a name!" The imperial interrupted, "Tell us what happened next with the bitch!"
The orc continued, "So I did this job for her, an errand in getting some rare herbs for her temple or something. When the time came for payment the broad gave me only fifty septims."
"Fifty septims that's it!?" said one of the nords.
"Shut it!" the orc blurted wanting to finish his story, "Now I took the gold but the woman could tell by how I was looking at her that the payment wasn't….adequate." He says trying to sound articulate as possible for an orc to be. The group of men did a tawdry snicker.
"She says: You look as if you need something else orc." said the orc. "And I just smile and say...have you ever been with an orc before darling? Why don't we go to your temple and we share some knowledge of the Goddess of Affection. And before she says another word I loosen the front of my trousers a little and whipped it out."
The men then cackled as loud as before, "You didn't!" says one of them.
"Sure did!" the orc says puffing out his chest. "Her eyes went wide at the sight of it that they surely going to pop out if further."
"A nice little tale." says a voice.
The orc turns to see a breton woman glaring at him and his comrades.
"Why don't you take that sort of drabble outside." said Delphine, "I don't need it in my inn."
The orc smiles while his posse does nothing but spit a laugh. "Come now lady, there's no harm we're all adults here."
"I don't care." Delphine says bluntly, "You and the rest of your ilk need to leave. NOW."
"You can't kick us out!" says the imperial this time. "We doing no harm."
"They can't go just yet Delphine." says someone else, it was Orgnar speaking this time. "They haven't paid their tab."
Delphine folded her arms and lean back on one hip, "Really?"
"What in Oblivion are you yapping bout!" barked the orc, "We put twenty septims down!"
"That was twelve tankards ago!" Orgnar barked back. "You still owe us for the half a barrel you drank through. That's fifty septims worth."
Delphine said nothing only giving the orc a look with a raise of her eyebrow. "What kind of scam is this!?" said the imperial, "Fifty septims for that goat piss you served us!?"
"Well I'm not paying it!" said one of the nords.
"Hear this." said Delphine in a calm cool tone, "You pay me the gold you owe and leave, and then we won't have any trouble."
A beat of silence chills through the room mixing with the intensity that was slowing brewing. Trouble was coming, Rohan could feel it. The way that orc was glaring at Delphine he knew that giant of a mer would tear the poor woman in half. He gets from his table walking towards her ready to clear the situation before it derails any further, but before he could get close to her a songful whistle hollers at him and Rohan turned to see it was Orgnar trying to get Rohan's attention. The barkeep shook his head giving Rohan a look assuring that the situation was under Delphine's control.
The group laughs at the breton's request. "Alright lady…" says the orc, "Listen." He reaches out a hand to clasp Delphine's shoulder when she caught it. Grabbing the orc's muscular forearm with an intense strength. The grip was so strong that it even caught the orc off guard to point where he was lost for words. "So you want to do this hard way?" Delphine says before twisting the orc's arm in a way it shouldn't be causing it make a gnarly snap.
The orc let out a bellowing roar of pain before being slammed to the floor by the sheer force of Delphine yanking his bent arm, pulling him overheard into a throw upon which gravity did its course and sent him to the floor.
The imperial with a steel dagger in his hand lunges at Delphine trying to stab at her, Delphine leans her body out of the way of the knife and in one swift move she grabs the man's arm and turns into where the knife then churns towards him stabbing him in the shoulder.
One of the nords came with a sharp jab striking her right the jaw. That blow could've sent anyone to floor knocked out. But Delphine did not flinch nor did it sent her down to the nords amazement. Instead she only glared at the nord spat out a piece of blood and countered with a sharp kick sending the nord back into the wall. "Oof!" he yelped. The other nord the smart one does nothing but remains in his chair putting his hands up in a faux surrender.
"You're gonna pay for that you bitch!" the orc growled, drawing an iron make mace from his uninjured hand. He let's out a roaring howl of a battle cry and charges at her. Rohan in pure amazement watch in a blink of an eye as Delphine smoothly draws the elven made dagger from her belt and cuts at the orc's armed hand sending the mace out of it disarming. Still one motion she uses the inertia the orc draws from running and pushes at him to the floor once more this time pinning him with the dagger at his throat.
"Now I'm going to say it again." said Delphine still in her calm voice. "PAY ME. AND LEAVE."
"Let's just pay the mad woman and go!" says the nord who was smart enough not to put up a fight. Taking his now bleeding hand, the orc reaches for a small sack on his person and shows it to her. "This...is….all the money I've got." he grunted in pain.
She snatches the coin pouch from her and gets off him, his crew then scurries away. "Come on!" says the imperial limping out to the door. "Arvel should be done with that trader anway!"
Rohan watches as all them hurry out like scarred puppies, the last one shuts the door and all the patrons who stood by watching turn their attention back to their business as if normal. All but Rohan. "I'll get the broom and start cleaning." says Orgnar.
Delphine sheathes her dagger and wipes her hands with cloth on her gown. "Thanks Orgnar." she says.
"Ummm…" Rohan sputters trying to make words, "How...did that just happen?"
Delphine knew the kid was too stunned from the show it sought need to clarify, "Innkeeping can be a dangerous job, especially when you're an inn on road travelers frequent. You'll never know who walks in."
"Those men looked to be brigands." said Rohan.
"Not surprising." said Orgnar who was sweeping some debris off the floor, "Faendal said he saw a couple of them lurking on the mountain side towards the old nordic crypt while he was out hunting."
"Bandits this close to Riverwood?" said Rohan, "What? No guard patrols come this way?"
Delphine shook her head, "Not this far in Whiterun Hold, we're on the border to Falkreath and if the new Jarl even spots armed soldiers that close to his hold, he'll take it as an attack. And it's all thanks to this damn war started, Jarls at each others throat to a point on where they can't protect their own people."
"You say there were going to a crypt?" Rohan asked.
"Bleak Falls." said Orgnar.
"That crypt overhead? I keep seeing it in my dreams. Whispering." said Rohan.
"Whispering? I've never heard of any of that? And lived here in Riverwood for years." said Delphine with a snort.
"The old tales speak of ancient power that dwells in the bowels of the barrow. That only the worth shall receive." said Orgnar. "But its old children stories."
Later at nightfall the inn was fill with all of Riverwood locals, with laughter and song as food and mead was being toasted around. Rohan was outside in the quiet sitting on the front porch staring at the mountain top, looking at the barrow. "Something in there is calling me...And it wants me to find it."
