Well this story is getting better reception than I thought it would. Still would like to hear from the readers. More chapters will be going up today and tomorrow. Going to try and put up as many as I can over the next couple of days. I am hoping to make to chapter 8 by Sunday night.
Ralof met his sister over by the wood mill, Jorik moved over to the river as the talked between themselves. He ignored the conversation and instead focused on the flowing water. He tried to let the sounds sooth him, hoping the pain would lessen. He flashed back on memories of his childhood when his family was alive. A time when life was simpler.
Ralof glanced over his should at Jorik, he just finished greeting his sister and now worried for the nord.
Gurder noticed the man, she was about to move over to him for a greeting, but Ralof stopped her. "No, leave him be," Ralof said.
"Why, what happened to him?" his sister asked.
"He lost all of his family in Helgen. Right now he's mourning," Ralof said quietly. His sister looked horrified and bowed her head as sadness leaked into her eyes for the stranger.
Jorik had heard what Ralof said, but it was more than that. He felt empty inside. He came back to be with his family, but now there was no one. So why is he staying? There was no reason for him to stay in Skyrim. There were the odd dreams, but those didn't matter anymore.
With a heartfelt sigh, he walked over to Ralof and his sister. "I should be heading," Jorik muttered, he wasn't good company as it was, these were strangers and he didn't feel comfortable here.
"Can you do Riverwood one thing?" Ralof's sister asked.
"What's that?" Jorik asked curiously. He was tired, wanted sleep, but this seemed more important.
"The Jarl needs to know what happened here. Can you inform him?" She asked, waiting patiently for his reply.
"Aye, I will do that," Jorik nodded, before heading out.
Ralof looked shocked, "he should have rested first," he muttered.
"Yes, he should have. How do you know him?" Gerdie asked.
"We were camped, that morning the Imperial found us. One snuck up on him striking him in the head. After that we stuck together escaping Helgen, his father died in front of everyone. Jorik had told us his father was sick. He found his sister and mother while escaping, they were already dead. I've never seen anyone fight like him, he quick and deadly. He would rush into rooms before I had to a chance to catch up and those rooms would be cleared of enemies by the time I entered. " Ralof told her the story.
"Well you go rest, I've got work to do here. If he comes back, I'll make sure he stays with us," She stated, before walking away.
Ralof watched his sister walk away, there was a lot he left out. Some of it he didn't understand. The dragon words that Jorik had spoken, or the two words he had uttered. The one that scared him the most was the other voice that had been speaking through him. . It made no sense, unless…. No that couldn't be it, there hasn't been a Dragonborn in ages.
~oooooooooooooo~
He looked up at the ruins that Ralof had pointed out earlier that day. Night was coming, he knew it was stupid to be hiking at night, but he needed to do something. He made his mind up to check out the ruins before going to Whiterun.
They were as he expected at first. Bandits littered the place. He crouched low, hoping to sneak up on the bandits, but he knew it would never work. He had never been good at sneaking. After he was caught by the first bandit he gave up on sneaking and faced them head on.
He made his way through the old ruins slowly, listening intently for any strange noises that would alert him to danger. A cold sweat ran down his back when he came to a doorway covered in thick spider webbing. Spiders…. He hated them with a passion, they made his skin crawl. He had fought a few a long time ago and after those fights it had taken a bit for his hands to quit shaking. Now here he was about to go up against more of them.
Taking a deep fortifying breath he hacked at the thick webbing, while his mind told him to turn around and leave. His eyes widened as he entered the large room hesitantly. Across the room he saw a dumner caugh up in webs. He took a step forward to help the man but stopped dead when a large shadow fell over him. Slowly he looked up and swallowed thickly as fear raced through him. It had been bad in caves beneath the castle in Helgen, this was so much worse. This spider was large, the largest he had ever seen. He should have listened to his mind when it yelled to leave the ruins. Now he had no choice but to fight it. He charged towards it, before he could actually register what he was doing. He didn't allow his fear to overwhelm him as he hacked and slashed at it. He breathed a sighed of relief when it dropped to the ground dead. Jorik glanced at his arm and grimaced at the deep cut. He gulped down a healing potion, hoping that would stop the bleeding for now. His hands were still shaking, as he stared at the giant spider.
"You have to get me out here," a dumner yelled. Jorik made his way over to the man. His eyes narrowing on the bandit in distrust.
"Where is the claw?" he asked, not trusting the bandit in the least.
"Get me down and I'll give you the claw," the bandit demanded. Jorik knew he was about to be betrayed, but he couldn't get the claw any other way. He cut the man down and watched him run away.
He followed after the thief and met up with a new enemy - one that made his skin crawl. He guessed these were draugres that Ralof had been talking about.
The rest of the ruins were filled with them. It didn't matter how many he killed they still made his skin crawl. Each room he came across had them, he didn't understand how they were moving about when they were already dead and no mages in sight.
After a while he lost track of time and wasn't sure how long he had been in these ruins killing those things. When he stepped into a large cavern, he hoped he was nearing the end of the ruins. He needed out of here, to see the sky and breath the fresh air. He didn't know how adventures did it, going through these ruins and looting them of their valuables. He wouldn't be able to do it. The old ruins irked him too much now that he'd finally been through one.
He stepped into the grand cavern, letting out a low whistle as he took in the waterfalls, it had a beauty to it, even though this place was deadly.
He walked further into the large chamber, his mind filling with chanting. His gaze automatically went to a stone wall, with ancient writing on it. He stepped close to it, word filled his mind as everything around him blurred. ""HET NOK FaaL VahLON DeiNMaaR DO DOVahGOLZ ahRK aaN FUS DO UNSLaaD RahGOL ahRNK VULOM" (Here lies The Guardian, keeper of Dragonstone and a Force of Unending Rage and Darkness) Jorik whispered. Raising a hand, he lightly touched the wall, one word burned brightly embedding itself into his mind.
His body pulsed with the beat of the chanting, the word filling him, awaking something deep inside of him. "Fus," he whispered, the word resonated through him. He stepped back from the wall slowly, his attention snapping towards a sarcophagus nearby. Another draugr showing it presences, but this one different than the others, it shouted, nearly knocking him off his feet.
Jorik panted as the draugr fell, his sword arm tired, barely able to hold his sword properly. It had been awhile since he was in such a difficult fight, one that he didn't want a repeat of.
~oooooooooo~
He made it to Whiterun in the early morning, he was weary, barely able to keep his eyes open. He wanted to sleep, but he didn't have time, he needed to get that message to Jarl. Jorik groaned when he saw the stairs he would have to climb, this was the last he thing he wanted to do. Stealing himself for the climb his fatigued body would have to do, he made his way up to the castle.
He turned around and looked over the town. It had been a long time since he was here. The last time was when he was but a young man, just growing his first beard. His gaze fell on Jorrvaskr, he wondered if Kodlak was still the Harbinger. He remembered meeting the man a few times, he had been a great warrior, and a good friend to his father.
He turned his attention back to Dragonreach. He vaguely remembered meeting a Jarl from here, but he remembered the Jarl son, Balgruuf, more. They had went out drinking a few times, and had explored a cave nearby, but that had been many years ago. Then the son had left for a bit. Jorik remembered that the Jarl's son had been slightly older than him, but at the time it hadn't mattered to him.
He stepped into the castle and made his way to the man seated on the throne. Helgen might have been in Falkreath hold, but that never stopped his father from doing his business in Whiterun. He had met many people when he was younger, but the years have passed since he had been here last. He was betting that the people he had known when he was younger weren't around anymore.
His gaze lit on the Jarl and he smirked. It was the same man, the son of the old Jarl. Jorik scowled at a Dumner that stopped him. He didn't answer her questions. His information was for the Jarl himself, not the housecarl, even though speaking to the housecarl was considered speaking with the Jarl.
"Irileth, allow him through," The Jarl commanded. Jorik moved forward, bowing his head. He felt odd doing it to a man that he used to know, but his respect was earned. The man he remembered had been fair and kind, he wondered if that had changed since taking his father's place.
Balgruuf turned his attention to the man before him. For a moment he didn't recognize the man until he met emerald green eye and one pale eye with a long scar. Bulgruuf remembered the day the man had received the scar, they had been in the cave acting like adventures. He had taken the lad so their fathers could talk in private without the lad bothering them. He had made a mistake, half way through the cave they had been overwhelmed. Jorik had blocked a blade going for him, saving his life in the process, but he had lost his vision in that eye. Balgruuf had made the mistake thinking that he would have to protect the lad, when in turn it had been the lad protecting him and ended up taking the lead after the injury. For the longest time he had felt guilty, he had been told that those caves were empty when that had been furthest from the truth.
Now that same lad stood in front of him looking exhausted. He sported a few cuts and scars, but he was still as he remembered him those years ago, only now he was a man. Piercing green eye met his and held.
"Jorik, it's been a long time. Last I heard you were in Cyrodiil," Balgruuf remarked, trying to keep the unease from his voice. He never knew if Jorik had forgiven him for the loss of sight in his one eye. When they walked home Jorik had placed a bandage over the eye, and stated that he was fine. That day was the last he seen of him. A few weeks later Balgruuf had left on his own adventure where he met Irileth.
"Yes, it has been. I just returned to Skyrim, not but a few days ago," Jorik answered tiredly. "But enough of the pleasantries Jarl Balgruuf, Riverwood calls for aid. With dragons back, they need your protection now, more than ever."
"Dragons! Do you have news of Helgen?" Balgruuf asked, almost nervously. He wondered if Jorik had seen his parents before the fall of the village.
"Helgen is gone, all are dead. I've come across no survivors while there," Jorik snapped coldly, he didn't wish to relive Helgen.
"What of your…?" Balgruuf started, but was cut off.
"Dead!" Jorik growled, his voice issuing his warning to drop the question.
Balgruuf flinched and sat back in his chair. He felt pity for the man in front of him. To come home and watch your family die was a hardship few had to live through. He could see that it was a hardship Jorik was still suffering through.
"I'll send some soldiers to Riverwood immediately," Balgruuf stated, nodding to Ireleth.
Jorik nodded to the Jarl and started to turn away. He just made it off the steps before Balgruuf voice stopped him. "Jorik, for your efforts in coming with this information; here," Balgruuf began. Jorik looked at the armor the Jarl was holding out to him.
"No thank you. I didn't do this for a reward. I've watched too many people die to a dragon," Jorik stated harshly, before walking away, this time he didn't stop when he heard the Jarl call him.
Balgruuf sat on his throne and watched the man walk away. It grieved his knowing that Aden was dead, he had been a friend of his father, even came to the castle often after his father's passing.
He glanced around the room and noticed that every eye was on him. Without another word he walked to his chambers. His eyes fell on his son and he worried more. Something wasn't right with his son, but he didn't know what. His thoughts went back to Jorik, the pain he saw in the Nord's eyes when he spoke of Helgen.