The next morning, I wake to find, to my alarm, Arngeir sitting in the chair next to the bed. Oh well; saves me the effort of going to search for him.
"So… you spoke to Paarthurnax." He says in response to my greeting. "The Dragon Blood burns bright within you. Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you the Dragonrend Shout?"
"No, but he told me how to find it." I answer, rubbing the sleep out of my eye.
"So be it. If he believes it is necessary for you to learn this, we will bow to his wisdom."
"I need the Elder Scroll the ancients used. Do you know where to find it?" I ask.
"We have never concerned ourselves with the Scrolls. The gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. As for where to find it… such blasphemies have always been the stock in trade of the mages of Winterhold. They may be able to tell you something about the Elder Scroll you seek." "With the small bow characteristic to the old monks, he wanders away.
Leaving High Hrothgar, I prepare for the long journey north to Winterhold. As Lydia and I jog down the Steps towards Ivarstead, it begins to drizzle, an almost frozen rain that seeps in through the cracks in clothing and armour. I'm not travelling in this.
"Lok Vah Koor!" I shout at the sky, and the rain stops, the clouds clearing until all I see is a bright blue sky.
I use the time travelling the snowy path to think, trying to remember more of who I am. I remember much of my youth, now – growing up in Balmora, hiding from the Daedra that came out of the Oblivion Gates just before the Third Age ended, then a few weeks later the astonishing news from Cyrodiil – the Emperor's hidden son had become the Avatar of Akatosh and ended the Crisis, closing the Gates forever. I remember, a few years later, running with my family as the Red Mountain exploded after Baar Dau came crashing down on Vivec City; the town was rebuilt a couple of years later when the land had settled again, but we never went back.
That's about where the holes in my memory start. I remember some parts – struggling in the cold in a hut outside Bruma a few years later, news of what was happening elsewhere being brought with new refugees, who soon either left or died of cold. I do recall one older fellow boasting about his baby cousin, who had gone to Windhelm and opened a cornerclub there. I'll have to see if it's still there.
We soon pass through Ivarstead, and I turn down the dirt track and follow the river down. A little way down, we encounter a pair of Imperial soldiers battling a sabre cat, another soldier lying dead next to the corpse of the prisoner they were escorting. The combined effort of the rest of the soldiers is enough to slay the beast, and I loot its corpse before continuing down the track, joining the road and following it north past another fort.
Taking the turn onto the road toward Windhelm, we pass a Khajiit dressed in rags and obviously high; his pupils were dilated so his eyes were almost completely black. He attempts to offer me something to 'refresh myself', but I jog past, not even making eye contact. At Mixwater Mill, I'm stopped by a courier, explaining that he had a note for me from an unidentified person. Thanking him, I read through the note as I continue down the road.
Lethandhrel One-Eye, You caused a bit of a stir at the Throat of the World when you demonstrated the power of your Thu'um. Not everyone is anxious for the return of the Dragonborn. I for one desire to see you grow and develop your talents. Skyrim needs a true hero these days. You should turn your attention to Autumnwatch Tower. I understand it holds a mysterious source of power that can only be unlocked by the Dragonborn. Sincerely, a Friend.
Well, that's certainly something to think about. My map says that Autumnwatch is far south of here, at the feet of the Jerall Mountains. I wonder who this 'friend' is. Oh well.
I decide to stop off in Windhelm to settle my curiosity over the cornerclub, and maybe to sell some of my excess baggage. I cross the bridge and pass through the great doors, heading towards the eastern side of the city, where all the Dunmer live. As I pass another giant gate leading to the docks, I'm stopped by a small girl with a basket of blooms.
"Hi, lady! Would you like to buy some flowers? Please?" The girl obviously has nothing.
"Sure! What do you have?" She proudly proffers the basket, and I buy them all. Hopefully, she can use the money to buy herself some food, so long as some selfish pickpocket leaves her alone.
I wander down the narrow street and discover what I was looking for. The New Gnisis Cornerclub. So that man's cousin was relatively successful, at least with the elves in the city. I duck inside.
It's actually quite bare, but seeing how the Dark Elves are treated in the city, it's to be expected, really. Walking up to the bar, I hear a familiar voice.
"Oh, it's you! I didn't expect to see you again." I turn to find the owner of the voice sat at the bar.
"Malborn, it's good to see you." I greet him.
"Trying to stay ahead of the Thalmor assassins. I'm not a hero like you – I don't stand a chance!" Oh dear.
"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I thought he'd be well on his way by now.
"Trying to stay alive!" He responds, almost hysterically. "I think time's running out though. I'm pretty sure the Thalmor know where I am. Maybe you can help me. You know, by way of making amends for getting me into this mess."
"You helped me. I'll do what I can to help you."
"You will? Really? Well, ok, here's the situation. I was trying to get to Morrowind. The Dunmer don't care much for the Thalmor and I figured I'd be safe there. As safe as anywhere, that is. But there's a Khajiit hanging around the main gate. I didn't like the way he was looking at me. I'm sure he's Thalmor; just waiting for me to leave so he can follow me and kill me in a lonely place."
"Don't worry." I assure him. "I'll take care of this assassin for you."
"You'd be saving my life – again. I know I probably seemed ungrateful; I've just been so scared. Expecting a knife at my throat any minute."
I leave the city, searching for the cat Malborn mentioned, and find that a Khajiit caravan has set up next to the stables. I head towards the seated merchant.
"I welcome you, friend. I am Ma'dran. How may I serve you?"
"I have a few things I need to get rid of…" taking the opportunity, I sell all the things I don't need and purchase a couple of potions to top up my supply. "Also, I'm looking for a Khajiit; might be a Thalmor spy?"
"Ah, you must be speaking of J'datharr. He was already here when we set up. That is him over there." Thanking the fellow, I wander over to the grey figure he'd indicated.
"Move on, friend. I have nothing to sell today." The cat tries to dismiss me.
"Malborn has a message for you." I inform him.
"Malborn? Ah, very good. I think we understand each other." With that, he draws his dagger and attacks me. If he hadn't, he might have stayed hidden, the fool.
The other Khajiit take absolutely no notice whatsoever, but it is still an easy fight, since the assassin is un-armoured and I have Lydia to help me.
Rummaging through the dead Khajiit's satchel, I find a couple of poisons and an incriminating note.
Description of target: Bosmer male, goes by Malborn. Believed to be working for the Blades, so approach with caution. He has inside knowledge of our procedures, so he will be warier than usual. Malborn is not his real name – he's now been identified as a survivor of a family of traitors who were all believed to have died in a fire in Falinesti. Do not risk him evading us. He's likely trying to leave Skyrim. Make sure of your kill, and do not implicate us.
Re-entering the city, I find Malborn now sitting in a chair in the corner of the cornerclub.
"The Thalmor assassin is dead. It's safe to leave Windhelm." I tell him.
"That's… great news! I'd – I'd better go, right now; before they find me again. This is my chance! Thank-you! Here – I stole a lot from the Thalmor over the years. You may as well have some of it." Malborn gives me a small purse, then dashes out through the door.
I follow at a less rushed pace, and follow the road west towards where the road to Winterhold starts. A little way beyond the bridge over the river from the south we're attacked by a pair of wolves, who I Shout into the river. The force of the Shout and landing in the water is enough to kill them, and I can't be bothered to swim out to loot their bodies, so I continue along the road, across another bridge and past Anga's Mill.
In the distance, I can see Alduin hovering around what must be another dragon mound, so I hurry up the road until it comes into view. I'm in a perfect position to watch as the dirt of the mound bursts up into the air, and a dragon that Alduin addresses as Viinturuth emerges, reforms, and flies into the air ready to attack us.
I manage to get a shot off just before it gains height, and then wait until it stops, hovering and preparing a Shout, before firing more arrows at it and using my gift from Paarthurnax on it.
"Yol!" bathing the beast in a short burst of flame seems to put him off of his own Shout, and he flies off again, his wings heaving to gain momentum. The fight goes on in much the same way, until Viinturuth finally gives up on his aerial assault and lands heavily in front of us. Drawing my warhammer, Lydia continues shooting at him from behind me as I whack at his scaly face. Soon, with a great roar, Viinturuth lies dead at my feet and his soul is warming me while his flesh burns away.
After retrieving my spent arrows and collecting a couple of the dragon's knucklebones, we continue along the road, turning up the cobblestones along the road to Winterhold. After about an hour of jogging, the road twists around a fort; I can see the shapes of a couple of skeletons pacing along the walls. I hate undead almost as much as I hate spiders.
I manage to shoot down one bony figure before being spotted by its companion – and the people responsible for the abominations. The necromancers are harder to dispose of than their raised minions, but soon also decorate the courtyard. The welcome sign, hanging crookedly from hooks in the wall next to what was the main entrance, declare that we have come to Fort Kastav. The fort is nothing but a prison and a commander's quarters, which means that clearing it out of valuables and necromancers is a quick, relatively easy job.
Since I've picked up several alchemical ingredients, I experiment with them at the alchemy table in a hut outside. I manage to create a couple of potions, and even a poison. Giving up after several failures in a row, we continue along the road, slaying a mad Breton, a couple of wolves and a sabre cat on the way. Night has fallen by the time we reach what little remains of what was once the great city of Winterhold. Ducking into the Frozen Hearth, I rent a room for the night. I'll sell my gains and visit the mages at their famous College in the morning.