Where is a Dragonborn When You Need One?
It was nightfall by the time I arrived back in Dawnstar and after entering the Sanctuary I realized that not everyone was asleep, as I could hear the tell-tale hammering of Donovan in the armory. I made my way to my room, which was just down the hall from the re-purposed torture room turned armory that doubled as a forge- a small and well-hidden skylight letting out the excess heat while still managing to warm the entire Sanctuary quite comfortably. I entered the room silently, seeing Donovan hard at work on his latest project- wearing a lighter weight blacksmithing garb in comparison to his usual suit of Ebony Armor. I leaned on the stone doorframe, waiting for him to notice I was there- it didn't take long for him to finish hammering and dunk the blade into water to cool it, glancing up to see me with a look of surprise.
"Listener? Just getting back or did I wake you by mistake?" He asked with slight alarm, I smiled and entered the room completely.
"Just got home, though while I'm here may I see your work? Think of it as an impromptu inspection." I said simply, holding my hand out for the blade he had just finished forging.
"Certainly, just give me a few minutes to wrap the hilt and sharpen it. Feel free to peruse my other works while I finish this one." He explained with confidence as he picked up the now cooled blade and walked into over to a workbench to wrap the hilt before beginning to sharpen it. I waited patiently, examining the craftsmanship of an ebony dagger. The balance was excellent, the hilt wrapping snug and secure, the folds of the blade strong and beautiful to behold, the only test I needed was of its sharpness- I brought the blade to my palm, gently sliding the blade across the thick muscle below my thumb. The cut was slight but undeniably clean, damn near perfect, though I knew it could always be better.
"You seem quite fond of ebony; though please remember that it makes for heavy armor- not exactly stealthy without the proper enchantments." I said offhand as I picked up a small piece of cloth to wipe the blade and staunch my cut. By now, Donovan was sitting at the grindstone sharpening what I could now see as a standard length steel sword- I was happy to know he did not make solely ebony equipment- he glanced from his work for only a second to see me examining the dagger.
"Indeed I am, I find it makes some of the cleanest cuts with minimal effort- added strength only making the cuts deeper. The enchanting is no problem for me, I actually enchanted that blade over there not long before you arrived." He said, nodding his head in the direction of a weapons rack.
Three weapons hung there: an ebony claymore, another steel sword, as well as a glass bow. It was obvious from the sheen of magic on the blade that the steel sword was the one that Donovan spoke of. I picked the blade up off the rack and examined it, seeing the sheen up close made me near certain that it was of a flame enchantment- the magick practically dancing like flames across the smooth surface of the blade.
"Overall I must say your skill is superb, though there is always room for improvement." I said simply, hoping not to offend him too much with my criticism. Donovan finished sharpening the sword and placed it on another rack,
"I understand what you mean, I know my work is not perfect- close perhaps- but I am not yet a master smith." He said with a sigh as he removed his blacksmithing apron. It was when he mentioned not being a master smith yet that an idea formed in my mind.
"Would you be up for advanced training with one? A true master of the craft?" I asked him as I placed the blade back on the rack and folded my arms, remembering a close friend of mine who last I checked was looking for a competent student. I was a little taken aback by how eager Donovan became at the mention of training with a true master smith,
"You know of a Master who is willing to train me? Truly?" he said happily, an exuberant light in his magenta eyes- oddly childish for an Orc of his stature. I rolled my eyes a little before beginning to walk away, stopping at the door,
"Indeed I do, now get some sleep because tomorrow we will be going on a little field trip." I said with a laugh as I headed for my room, hearing Donovan scramble to clean up the armory before scurrying off to bed. As soon as I shut my door behind me, I shook my head at the contradictory personality of our resident blacksmith. He was a well-spoken Orc, gruff yet accepting of criticism, and was mature but with a childish eagerness to improve. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever understand or know the reasons behind who Donovan was, but put it out of my mind as I slowly drifted off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning to a feverish knocking at my door.
"Listener? Are you awake yet? I'm ready to leave when you are." came the voice of Donovan from the other side of the door. I chuckled at his excitement,
"Wait for me in the dining hall, I will be ready shortly." I shouted as I climbed out of bed, not needing to change as I had forgotten to change into my sleeping clothes before going to bed once again. I gathered my gear, leaving Steelheart in the dagger case on my low wardrobe. I left my room and found Donovan- in full ebony armor with his helmet sitting on the table- wolfing down his breakfast that Babette had apparently helped Kestrel make. Though I was not really that hungry, I figured I could eat later once we arrived at our destination. After Donovan finished eating, we set out for the location of my Master Smith friend… an Orc Stronghold just outside the settlement of Kynesgrove called Narzulbur. We rode in relative silence, chatting a little about the surprisingly clear weather today- usually in Winterhold and Windhelm it was always spitting snow if it wasn't a full on blizzard, though today was unusually calm. We approached the gates of the stronghold and were greeted by the usual gate keeper,
"Hail Blood-kin, Malacath welcomes you back! I will inform the Chieftain of your arrival." Yatul said before opening the gate and running off. Donovan giving me an odd look as we entered the tall wooden gates,
"Curious about why they call me 'Blood-kin'? I helped them fend off an attack from a nearby Giant camp a few years back." I said simply as I guided Donovan past the various huts to a wooden bridge that spanned the gap between the cliffside forge and the rest of the stronghold. Hearing the hammering of the smithy all the way from the gate, it only became louder as we approached.
We crossed the bridge and stood before the open-air forge, covered by a wall-less hut to protect the forge from snow and rain. A tall and brawny Orc man stood hammering at an Orcish claymore, his face contorted into a grimace of concentration. We stood for a few moments and waited for him to finish with the hammering of the hot metal before cooling it in a trough of water- Donovan being the first to speak,
"Somehow I figured the Master Smith you spoke of would be an Orc, if not a Redguard." he said with a slight smile as he held out his hand to shake the Orc man's hand.
"You figured wrong on both counts kiddo." said a voice from behind us, a smirk on my face as I placed a hand on Donovan's shoulder and turned him around to face the person we had come here to see. There before us stood the true Master Smith. A Bosmer woman who stood no taller than 5'4" with her lightly tanned skin and shoulder length light brown hair dusted with soot, her coal black eyes alight with amusement as she watched Donovan adjust to the news that his new teacher was neither Orc nor Redguard- the common races for Master Smiths.
"Donovan, I'd like you to meet Erawyn- Erawyn this is Donovan, I'd like you to train him." I said with a courteous smile. Erawyn simply scoffed,
"Why should I? I've tried training half of these ice-brained Orcs… to no avail! I'm beginning to think about moving to Hammerfell or maybe Orsinium." She said with a roll of her eyes. I was about to say something in Donovan's defense, but he beat me to the punch.
"In truth, I am only Half-Orc… but if you truly doubt my skill, here- examine this blade; I forged it myself." he said as he drew a blade- wrapped in cloth- from a strap on his back, handing it carefully to Erawyn. It was when he said he was only Half-Orc that the inconsistencies of his personality began to make sense in my mind; it also explained why his 'tusks' looked far shorter than that of most Orcs. Erawyn examined the blade meticulously, though she tested the keenness of the blade on a strip of fine leather rather than the palm of her hand.
"Hmp, so maybe you do have the talent to be my student… though might I ask what your other half is?" She questioned as she handed the blade back to Donovan. I was curious as well and listened intently,
"My mother was a Breton." he said plainly, though he seemed a little hesitant to tell either of us. Somehow I wasn't surprised to hear that Donovan and I shared common blood, being a Breton myself- though I mentally face-palmed when I realized that Donovan was a Breton sounding name.
I left Erawyn and Donovan to get acquainted, mentally wishing him luck with enduring her harsh training as I crossed back over the bridge. I had met her when she first came to this stronghold two years ago, challenging the previous Master Smith here for the run of the smithy- needless to say that she won by a long shot, and I was here long enough so see many Orcs try to keep up with her and be her apprentice… none ever stood up to her standards. I sat down on a small bench by the cooking fire outside the Chieftain's large hut, seeing him and his eldest daughter already eating lunch.
"Alyce, Yatul told me you had returned. Paying a visit to Erawyn I'm guessing?" He asked after taking a moment to swallow a large bite of roasted goats leg. I tore a hunk of meat off the goat on the spit for myself, taking a moment to eat a little before answering.
"In a manner of speaking, I brought her a promising student." I said before returning to my late breakfast. The Chieftain and his daughter glanced at each other before breaking into booming laughter.
"What makes you think he will be any different from the others who have tried to learn from her?" asked the Chieftain's daughter, as she too had tried to be Erawyn's apprentice. I finished off my food and simply smiled,
"He's already skilled in smithing; almost as good as Erawyn- he's just here for supplementary training, plus he as a few tricks that even Erawyn can't do herself." I explained happily, knowing that if anyone in all of Tamriel was meant to be that stubborn Elf's apprentice… it would be Donovan.
After about an hour of watching a sparring match between two denizens of the stronghold, I began to wonder if Erawyn had actually accepted Donovan for training and began the short trek back to the smithy across the bridge. I found Donovan hammering away at a blade with Erawyn leaning against the support posts of the roof with her eyes trained on Donovan's every swing of the hammer. Even I knew never to interrupt a smith at work, especially during the shaping stage, so I stood and waited for him to finish. Apparently, he was almost done and after about twenty minutes more, he dunked the still glowing blade into the water with a loud hiss and a small cloud of steam.
"So I found a keeper this time I take it?" I said sarcastically, my face contorting into an 'I told you so' smirk. Erawyn sighed as she walked over to the now cooled blade and drew it from the water.
"He will have to do, no one else has shown this much give-a-damn when it comes to metalworking. I even insulted his technique to test his resolve, and he took it like a man instead of some oversensitive milk-drinker." Erawyn said with a sigh, though I knew her well enough to know she was happy to have finally found an apprentice worth her time.
"Master Erawyn has taught me how to forge Daedric weapons and armors, and in such short time! I always thought it would take me years of training to reach that level of skill from where I am now." Donovan said with awe in his voice, surprised that Erawyn could have taught him this much in only a few hours.
"A true master knows that shortcuts lead to shoddy craftsmanship, but that is part of technique rather than the knowing of how to forge something as complex as Daedric equipment or even Dragon armor. Both of which take a full day of refining and working the material before it's even ready to be finished as the sun goes down; this blade is brittle compared to a fully finished Daedric blade." Erawyn explained as she walked out from under the roof to stand beside a rock by the cliff's edge- slamming the blade down to shatter like it was nothing special. I could see Donovan wince at the sight of his work shattered like a child's plaything.
"You just love demonstrations don't you?" I said with a smirk as Erawyn returned to the forge. She gave me a look and picked up a piece of unfinished metal to heat it in the forge.
"There is little I can teach you beyond what I have already, you must learn to forge Dragon Armor on your own- but I can teach you an important part of being a smith that many people never think improves craftsmanship." She said before she took a moment to work the bellows. Both Donovan and I were puzzled. "A true Master Smith knows that gathering their own materials puts their heart not only into the forging of the blade or armor, but also in the very material its self- for twice as much heart. Though I don't have the time to gather the scales and bones I need for my latest suit of Dragon Armor, so I need you two to go out and kill a Dragon for me." She continued as she held up the white-hot metal and brought it to the anvil to hammer it into shape.
Donovan and I left the forge in silence, uncertain about Erawyn's task for us… neither of us were Dragonborn so how were we going to kill a Dragon and it stay dead long enough for us to collect the bones and scales? One of the few kinds of people I don't have as contacts, would be a Dragonborn. We would just have to do what we could and hope whatever we did would be enough! We left the stronghold and ventured out into the hills to search for any signs of a dragon. We did not have to wait long to see a huge black Dragon fly high overhead in the direction of Kynesgrove. We waited in the bushes for the right moment to strike… but we were stunned by the scene that began to unfold before our very eyes. The Black Dragon spoke in a language that was strange to me. The ancient burial mound not far from where he hovered off the ground exploded in a blast of dirt and scattered rocks. From under this storm of earth emerged the skeletal form of another Dragon that slowly began to flesh out and become what it had obviously been before it's death. We almost didn't notice when a young Altmer woman stepped out from behind a large stone with a heavily armored Imperial woman close behind. The Black Dragon spoke to the Altmer, who simply stood there glaring at the resurrected Dragon… a desire to kill in her eyes that I could see from our hiding place like a glowing beacon. The Black Dragon spoke once more before flying upwards and off into the sky, the other Dragon roared and took off as well… but remained to rain fire down on the Altmer and Imperial. As the dragon circled, the imperial woman began to fire arrows with minimal effect on the Dragon that seemed to fly faster than any arrow. Soon the Dragon landed with a gust of wind that rustled the leaves of our hiding place,
"I am Salikonir! Hear my voice and despair!" roared the Dragon, startling both Donovan and I to hear it speak the language of men. As we continued to watch, we began to wonder if we should assist these two… but as soon as we made the decision to assist, the fight was over. The Dragon collapsed to the ground as the Altmer woman trust her blade into its maw as it opened to breath flame. A bright light engulfed the Dragon, its body seeming to burn away, and the light rushed to the Altmer woman and wrapped around her like a whirlwind- sinking into her body to vanish as quickly as it came. The Altmer woman and her Imperial companion talked for a moment before leaving for places unknown, and as they left we emerged from our hiding place.
"Well… I suppose we can collect the bones and scales from this Dragon and be on our way." I said as I walked to stand beside the remains of the Dragon, finding a handful of scales and several bones that could easily be carried. We gathered what we could and began the trek back to the stronghold.
The gates of the stronghold opened for us as we approached and we made a beeline for the forge.
"Well, well… you killed a Dragon and returned to tell the tale. This should be enough for a fine suit of armor." Erawyn said as she greeted us at the forge-side of the bridge, obviously eager to get started on her project. Neither of us told her that we hadn't lifted a finger to slay the Dragon; we did not hide out of cowardice, rather more in awe of the great beast and uncertainty of how to tackle the challenge.
"Donovan if you want to stay a while longer and observe Erawyn at work you may, I will head home alone. I trust you can make your own way back?" I said as I began to walk back across the bridge, knowing that the slight nod of his head was probably the best answer I would get- his mind fully focused on the prospect of observing the making of Dragon Armor. I chuckled lightly as I found Shadowmere quietly grazing inside the walls of the stronghold, her very presence frightening the goats around her. Hearing me coming she raised her head and walked up to the gate, knowing it was time to leave for home. I hauled myself into the saddle and began the ride home, a quiet ride with little more than the clopping of Shadowmere's hoofs to ring through the fading light of day. I crested the ridge outside the town of Dawnstar, witnessing the sun falling below the dark waters of the Sea of Ghosts. It was an eerily beautiful sight, and I kept my eyes on it intently as Shadowmere walked along the small bay to the location of the Black Door. I wanted to stay outside and watch the sun sink lower into the sea, but a strong and cold wind blew landward and I quickly reconsidered the idea and rushed inside. There would be many more sunrises to come, perhaps tomorrow it would be warm enough for me to watch it… and that's if I could sneak away long enough from the rabble within the Sanctuary.