Song of the Dragonborn
Rhapsody
Movement II
I really don't know why I'm bothering to do this. Mohana thought bitterly as she slowly walked the long road from Riverwood to Whiterun. I could just go off into the woods and hide for the rest of my days. Live like my parents say they did in Valenwood. Subsist off the animals of the land and live in the trees. She shivered with a sudden bone-chilling burst of wind that ripped through the air. Oh who am I kidding? I'd be dead of cold within a week if I tried. I got too used to the comforts of Imperial living.
Perhaps it was simply a longing for comfort that drove her to accept the task. Perhaps it was the old Penitus Oculatus agent in her, longing for the sense of direction she'd had before the Katariah sent it all to Oblivion. Perhaps it was a fire burning in her to redeem her lost good name. Whatever the true reason, when Alvor and Hadvar mentioned the importance of the Jarl of Whiterun knowing of the dragon attack, she reacted as though on instinct to take the burden of informing him.
So now she wandered along the dirt and stone-carved path to one of the major central holds in Skyrim. One of the few she'd yet to visit in her travels as an Imperial. She heard the clanking of Imperial Armor behind her, and hastily pulled the mage's hood she'd received from Lucan,the Riverwood Trader, over her head.
She hadn't technically had the gold to purchase the item, but Lucan was willing to take a bit of a loss for the fur-lined hood on the condition that Mohana retrieve for him a Golden Claw from a bandit camp in Bleak Falls Barrow. So now she was obligated to deal with two assignments, both in the general direction of Whiterun. She supposed it made the most sense to go to Whiterun first, then sort out where Bleak Falls Barrow was later.
The Imperial Soldiers walking past her said, "Move along, citizen. Imperial business."
Thankful her new disguise of Leather Armor and a hood hadn't been immediately seen through, Mohana gently inclined her head to see what was going on. A Stormcloak soldier, no doubt recaptured from Helgen, was being led to his death by Imperial Soldiers. A part of Mohana felt a pang of sympathy for the rebel as she remembered hearing the impassioned words of the Stormcloaks riding with her to Helgen, as well as those imprisoned in Solitude with her before then. I understand why they would feel so wronged by what the Empire is doing, and I wish there were another way to go about things, but... I can't risk upsetting the Thalmor. Not after mum and dad.
She shook her head with a sad sigh before continuing along the path, giving the Imperials a wide berth.
Her eyes were only for the road ahead of her- only for her task. That is, until she felt the ground shaking beneath her feet with the footsteps of a nearby giant harassing the farm she was passing by. Gathered around the giant's feet was a group of about three warriors working in tandem with swords, greatswords and arrows to bring down the monstrous foe. Mohana gasped as she saw the giant raise a club towards one of the farmers, swiftly pulling out her bow and arrows before taking aim at the giant's heart.
Remember what Faendal taught you. Shut out all outside noise, concentrate. Dominant eye on the prize...
She loosed the arrow, and watched as it sailed for the giant's chest. While it didn't strike the beast's heart, it penetrated somewhere beneath its ribs. Most likely the lungs, judging from the gurgling cry now coming from the falling giant. The other warriors that had been fighting around the giant's calves scattered as it fell to its knees, where one mighty swing from a greatsword cleaved its head clean off.
Satisfied that the danger had passed, Mohana sheathed her bow, though she swiftly reconsidered her actions as she was approached by a running group of the warriors that had been fighting the giant. In the group was a heavily-muscled young Nord with stubble and shoulder-length brown hair who was clad in heavy steel armor, an Imperial clad in hide armor, and-
Mohana's heart skipped a beat- or five- as she beheld the last member of the hunting party. A Nord woman wearing armor much better suited for sneaking around and showing off the figure than direct combat. Her shoulder-length auburn hair almost glowed in the now-setting sun. Across her face were three green slashes of paint, which only served to accentuate the piercing blue of her eyes. Her figure was beautiful- but also intimidating. Like a wolf coiled and ready to pounce at its prey. Mohana thought.
"You there!"
Another few heartbeats skipped as Mohana heard the voice of the hunting party's leader- a voice equally as strong and intimidating as the figure using it. "Yes?"
"You seem like a pretty good shot. I am known as Aela the Huntress. You should come see me at Jorrvaskr sometime if you want to hone your hunting." Aela replied with a somewhat impressed smile towards the Bosmer.
"My name is-" she stopped short of saying 'Mohana' out of habit with the realization that to speak her true name before she was officially pardoned would be absolute suicide. She took a moment to think on what to call herself before deciding, "Ashtoret. Ash for short. I don't have the time to visit right now, but I will gladly go to Jorrvaskr some other time."
The cross between disappointment and haughty dismissal currently writing itself across Aela's face was enough to make Mohana gulp, and wonder if perhaps she should take back her words.
"Well, if you ever change your mind, we'd be glad to hear your songs in our mead hall." Aela replied before tilting her head up towards a massive walled structure off in the distance. "We're heading in the direction of Whiterun, if you'd care to follow us there."
Mohana merely shook her head. "I can find my own way to Whiterun, but thank you for the offer."
Aela nodded in understanding before she turned her back on the Bosmer and continued up the winding pathway towards the walled Hold of Whiterun. Mohana blinked in shock as she watched the Huntress saunter away from her. Is she purposefully swaying her hips like that, or...? She shook her head to clear it. Focus, Mohana. Get the news about the dragon attack delivered to the Jarl, and then get to finding that blasted Golden Claw. And then, then perhaps I can find a way and a place to hide out until the furor over my execution dies down.
It's just like being back in the damned Legion, Mohana seethed as she stepped back out of the gates of Whiterun, looking around at the farmland and mountainous scenery. Do a favor for one person, and suddenly everyone wants you to do something for them. I couldn't just tell them about the dragon attack and get on with my life, no, now I have to find this stupid Dragonstone in addition to the Golden Claw that Lucan lost.
She ran her fingers through her silver-white hair with a sigh of exasperation as she studied her map of Skyrim. Well, at least the Golden Claw and the Dragonstone are in the same place. Bleak Falls Barrow. Isn't too far of a hike from here either. She folded the map up and shoved it in her knapsack. Best just to go and get this over with.
She walked and climbed the whole way, ascending from bright sunlight and flowering greenery to twilight and bone-freezing wind and snow. She took, not the obvious dirt road that might be beset by bandits and other fiends seeking to attack the unwary traveler, but the steep path up what was nearly a sheer cliff face, one that approached the Barrow from behind.
As she reached the massive ancient Nordic temple, she crouched down behind the broadest side of the building. Footsteps were rapidly approaching her hiding place, summoned by the sound of crunching snow and falling pebbles skittering to the ground so far below. Pulling her bow from her back and readying an arrow, Mohana steadied her breath.
She stepped out from behind cover, her eyes zeroing in on an archer a good three hundred feet out. She exhaled slowly, and fired. The small figure of the archer tumbled from its post, crashing to the ground with a 'thump' and drawing the attention of its comrades, who ran from their positions to see about their fallen comrade.
And while they're otherwise occupied... Mohana thought, briefly fighting off a shudder of recollection as she imagined the fear singing through the hearts of the brigands camped outside the Barrow, I'll go on inside.
Of course, Mohana's recent string of astronomically bad luck would naturally dictate that there be more brigands lying in wait in the massive entrance chamber. Cursing under her breath, Mohana slowly crept towards them, waiting until she was far out of the firelight to loose an arrow. Two arrows later, there were two dead bandits on the floor.
I wonder if perhaps the Golden Claw is in there... Mohana mused, her eyes landing upon a chest near the fire.
The lock on the chest was almost pathetically easy to pick. She threw open the lid, expecting to be met with the shimmer of flame on gold. Instead, she was met with a small assortment of semi-precious gems and potions. Well that's... the very definition of unhelpful. Looks like I have no choice but to delve further in.
Let it be said for the record that I absolutely loathe these Nordic tombs and their burial customs. Mohana thought bitterly to herself as she stood before the massive three-ringed door which could only be unlocked by the Golden Claw she'd finally managed to wrest from the thief that had taken it.
She'd managed to gain the claw, but not until after she'd entered a lengthy chase with a thief known as Arvel the Swift. Arvel certainly lived up to his name, taking off running as soon as Mohana freed him from the spider web holding him in place. He'd managed to wake up every single Nordic corpse- I think the locals call them Draugr. she reflected- in the place. She was fairly adept by now at sticking to the shadows and firing from cover, but with so many torches in the area- not to mention the burning pots which fell and illuminated the massive oil slicks on the floor due to careless zombie archers- it had been nearly impossible to stay hidden from sight. It was all Mohana could do to fill the Draugr full of arrows before they closed the distance between themselves and her, and leave her far more injured than her meager healing skills and potions could heal.
Somehow, despite setting off every single trap in the place, Arvel had managed to run all the way to the key-requiring door before Mohana finally caught up to him and ended him with an arrow between the eyeballs. So now she stood before the door, the Golden Claw being studied in one hand as she traced the fingers of the other hand over the door.
I wonder if there's some sort of catch here, like there was with those rotating pillars earlier... Mohana mused, putting some pressure behind her touches as she traced the outline of the three circles. When she found the innermost ring moving with her fingertips, she realized that she was definitely on the right track.
So these need to be in some kind of pattern... I wonder if the designs etched on the bottom of the Golden Claw have anything to do with it. She thought, looking again at the claw in her left hand. The dim torchlight glinted off of the textured surface of the claw, showing to her a bear, a moth, and an owl. If the order goes from top to bottom on the door as well, then that should be the sequence that unlocks the door. If those same designs are there.
Much to her delight, Mohana found that the designs on both claw and door were a perfect match for one another. She set about making the pattern on the door match the pattern of the claw, and waited when she was finished.
Nothing's happening... she mused to herself after a long moment of standing there and staring like an idiot. Did I do it wrong? Or was there something I...
Her internal monologue trailed off as she caught sight of a keyhole that was shaped suspiciously like the claw in her hand. A keyhole her 'keen archer's eyesight' had earlier missed. The palm of her free hand made close acquaintance with her forehead in the moments that followed. "That would make sense, now wouldn't it?"
She slid the key easily into its lock, and turned it. When she heard a loud crack and a slow rumbling, she abruptly removed the key from its lock, and stood back as the door slowly slid into the floor. If she'd been discouraged by the size of this particular barrow before, she felt positively overwhelmed now. The cave that lay beyond the massive door- now slid fully into the floor- was enormous. Not only that, but it was almost unnervingly still and calm. Calmer than even the rest of the barrow, as at least that had the lively accompaniment of fleeing bandits' footsteps.
Now, the only footsteps that echoed here were Mohana's own, which sent a chill of fear down her spine. The echoes of her quiet, crouching footsteps called down a swarm of bats from the ceiling, causing her to throw her hands up to shield her face from the flapping rodents. When at last the swarm of bats had cleared, she continued across the stone bridge and up the stairs to the stone platform in the center of the room.
I don't like the looks of this. At all. Mohana thought with a shiver. Surrounding her on the platform were a treasure chest, a massive coffin, and a stone wall with some strange text inscribed on it. Standing near the wall of text made her head twinge unpleasantly, so she avoided it in favor of standing closer to the coffin.
Best I don't make too much noise, or anything that's in there might wake up. she thought, gently edging closer to the treasure chest. Perhaps I'll get lucky, and the Dragonstone will be in here...
Naturally, Mohana was not lucky. In the chest, she found a steel sword that felt as though it had some magic on it, a set of heavy iron boots and a spell scroll for a spell to repel weak undead. Well that would have come in handy earlier. Much. Earlier.
She groaned in frustration, running her fingers through her hair as she scoured every corner of the chest for something more. Her efforts produced nothing. No Dragonstone in here... I wonder if maybe it's over near that weird wall.
Despite the fact that even standing near it gave her a horrible headache, Mohana saw no other way to try to gain the Dragonstone than to step directly towards the wall of strange text. A ringing began in Mohana's ears, resonating so loudly in her head that her vision began blurring before her. She leaned against the text-covered wall for support as the ache grew from a strong pulse of pain to a head-splitting wave that filled her entire skull. Even though the corners of her vision rapidly darkened, Mohana could swear that she saw faint blue light emanating from some of the text on the wall.
What in Oblivion...?
Her head split in agony, and then, suddenly, the pain stopped. She stared at the wall of text before her, and found it rendered in front of her face as plainly as the common written language.
Here lies the guardian
Keeper of dragonstone
And a FORCE of unending
Rage and darkness
"That's... really bizarre..." Mohana murmured, noting how the word FORCE seemed to jump out past all the others, imprinting itself into her mind. "'Fus'... how strange..."
A sudden cracking noise shattered the silence of the air around her, making her leap in surprise with a girlish shriek. She watched in abject horror as a Draugr, much bigger and more heavily-armored than any she'd seen before, slowly clambered its way out of the coffin that once held it. Its glowing blue eyes fixated on her, and she barely remembered in time to arm herself before it began approaching her.
"RO DAH!"
Mohana lost her footing and staggered backwards as sonic waves poured from the throat of the Draugr standing before her. She lost her aim with her bow, and barely managed to sidestep the Draugr's first strike at her chest. She loosed her first arrow, and cursed herself thereafter for not waiting until she gained a little more distance. The Draugr was looking at her again, swinging a weapon that misted with cold towards her head. Seeing no other option, Mohana turned her back on the creature and fled, leaping into the creek which ran through the cave. She crouched and waited, her form concealed by the shadows of the bridge until the Draugr seemed to have forgotten she was there.
She stepped out of cover, crossed up to where she could get a clear shot, and fired. Once the arrow was loosed and she was sure it had hit its target, she fled back to her hiding spot beneath the bridge, there to wait for her opponent to forget about her presence. She repeated this pattern until finally, the undead foe she faced collapsed backwards onto the hard stone.
She approached the dead thing with a look of disgust upon her face, her eyes zeroing in on a pouch it seemed to be wearing. She pulled the pouch from it, and therein found the very thing Farengar had sent her to the barrow to fetch. At least, she sincerely hoped that it was the Dragonstone she held now in her shaking hands. She pocketed it, and sighed.
All right, now that's done, I just need to get this back to Whiterun as quickly as possible. The sooner I finish that, the sooner I can find a place to just. Lay. Low.
After a very brief stop in Riverwood to hand the Golden Claw back to its owner Lucan (for which Mohana received a healthy 600 septims), Mohana proceeded swiftly along the way towards the great walled city of Whiterun once more. The guards did not trouble her this time as she passed, and she walked in to both the city and Dragonsreach without issue.
She could hardly be bothered to pay attention to Farengar's excited ramblings after she turned the Dragonstone over to him, and simply asked, "Who do I see about my reward for this?"
"You'll have to speak to Jarl Balgruuf about that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy examining these translations." the Whiterun court wizard answered curtly.
If nothing else, certainly Farengar's attitude made Mohana want to purge him from the banks of her memorable encounters since her flight from Helgen. The condescending mage's smug, self-righteous bearing would drive the most patient priestess of the Divines to murder.
She stepped back out into the main hall and saw no sign of the Jarl. But she did catch sight of a very stressed Irileth running into the room she had just vacated. "Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon has been sighted nearby."
The word 'dragon' tore at Mohana's memories, filling them with cascading, burning rubble and a massive grey beast roaring and splitting the air and her head. She shook her head as if to clear it, and followed Irileth up the stairs to meet Jarl Balgruuf and one of the border sentries of the Whiterun Hold.
The 'big' and 'fast' creature the sentry described in frustratingly vague terms only made Mohana's recollections of the disaster at Helgen even more vivid. She remembered now what her blurred vision wouldn't let her see before. Imperials she'd once served beside in the Legion being burned to crisps. One of the Legion's finest mages got snapped up in the maw of the great beast, and was being shaken with the sickening crack of bone.
She found herself nodding mechanically in response to Jarl Balgruuf's recommendation that she go with Irileth to take care of the potential dragon menacing the western watchtower. Despite having no clue what to do, having been one of the few survivors of Helgen currently in Whiterun, she'd be best able to help.
Being suddenly placed under Irileth's command snapped Mohana out of her nightmare-like state. The sudden clarity that reached her mind made her feel as though she'd been doused with a bucket of cold water. Serving in a military capacity under a strong-willed commander, this was the life she knew well. She followed her temporary commanding officer as she ran through the city of Whiterun, meeting her and the rest of the Whiterun guard at the checkpoint not far from where the dragon had supposedly been sighted and attacked.
"No signs of any dragon right now," Irileth began, scanning the area, "but it sure looks like he's been here."
Mohana straightened, and made sure her hood was fully concealing her face as Irileth looked directly at her and addressed the gathered soldiers. "I know this looks bad, but we've got to find out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out, and look for survivors! We need to know what we're dealing with."
The Bosmer didn't need telling twice. She pulled her bow from her back, and held it at the ready as she walked around the Western Watchtower, looking for anyone who might have seen the dragon and lived to tell the tale. She tried to step into the tower, only to be halted by two Whiterun guards hiding therein.
"No! Get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"
Mohana made to do as she was told when an eerie roar not unlike the one she experienced at the executioner's block echoed through the night sky.
"Kynareth save us, here he comes again!"
Panic was swiftly overtaking the ranks of the gathered guards and soldiers. It was only by focusing on Irileth's harsh orders that Mohana was able to avoid being drawn into the mood of panic herself.
"Here he comes! Find cover, and make every arrow count!"
Nodding in understanding, Mohana crouched amidst the weeds and bushes out in the field. It was weak cover, but in the night, she hoped it would be enough so that she could still see the dragon coming. She waited for a few tense moments. And then, the moment of judgment arrived.
She heard the beast sooner than she saw it, for its color nearly blended in to the aurora-filled night sky. The sound of gigantic wingbeats and its headache-inducing roars reached her long before her eyes could spot the beast. She carefully held her breath and focused each shot before she fired. But even with all her best efforts to aim properly, most of her arrows still missed. Irileth seemed to be doing the most damage of anyone present, blasting the dragon with lightning from the ground.
Whenever the beast landed, Mohana took advantage of the opportunity to pepper it with arrows from her hiding place before it took flight again. However, her meager excuse for cover was soon sacrificed to the hungry flames the dragon was belching towards her comrades, forcing her to abandon her safe hiding place. The dragon's eyes widened as it beheld her, and she loosed the very last arrow she had on her person.
The arrow sailed through the air, nailing the dread beast right between its eyes. Its back arched up as it reared in its death throes, flame billowing from its throat as it screamed to the heavens, "Dovahkiin! Niid!"
When the echoes of the creature's voice finally died down, its body fell lifelessly to the ground, leaving a massive corpse laying before Mohana, Irileth, and the Whiterun Guard.
"Let's make sure that overgrown lizard is really dead." Irileth ordered, sending some of the guards to examine the corpse. Mohana smirked when she continued on to add, "Damn good shooting boys!"
But as the guards investigated the body, something strange happened. Irileth ordered the guards back, but Mohana stood there, transfixed by the spectacle she saw. It was as if the entirety of the dragon's body were being slowly consumed in flame. Bit by bit, scales and flesh were eaten away from the dragon's form in a soft, golden light until all that was left were the bones of its massive skeleton. Mohana felt a powerful breeze blow almost right through her, a warmth and wave of understanding sweeping through her entire being.
Her mind went nearly immediately to the strange words she'd seen on the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow, particularly to the word 'Fus', Force. She now understood what it meant in a way she hadn't before. She couldn't explain what the level of understanding was, or how it was different, but the sound of the word 'Fus' now resonated through her throat. She felt ready to use the word, to project its true meaning and show her new understanding to others. The urge was nearly irrepressible.
So irrepressible that when a guard approached her, questioning her about some myth or other to do with dragons and those born of them, her Voice leapt from her throat, unbidden, projecting its Force across the guards. They each staggered back a step or two before staring at her in a combination of fear and wonderment.
With all the stares upon her, Mohana was feeling exceedingly uncomfortable, so she sheathed her bow and began to run full-tilt back towards Whiterun.
What in Oblivion was that? Why did I just shout that odd word at them? And why did it cause them all to react like that? she thought, her musings punctuated by her rapid footsteps up the sloping hills to the gates of Whiterun.
Barely had she managed to arrive within Whiterun's gates before her earlier headache from the wall of text returned, only now stronger and more agonizing than ever. It seemed the very stones beneath her feet trembled, along with every building in the area. Her heart tugged painfully in her chest as her ears finally comprehended the force that seemed to hold all Skyrim at its mercy.
DO VAH KIIN!