Sigmund Wolf-Face was not what you would call a "morning person." He was a guard in Dawnstar, the capital of The Pale. A lowly guard, that is. His family served in the great war, rather, his father did. It ended about the time he came into adulthood, so no real chance to fight for glory, honor, or a chance to enter Sovngarde. Sure, there was this Civil War going on, with Ulfric StormCloak on one side and the Imperials on the other. Hell, even had a fancy retired legionare that lived in the same hold as him. Slight problem with that though, the Jarl of the hold, Skald. Man would fight and die for Ulfric's cause. Ysmir's bread, Sigmund would be willing to bet that the second the fight would be taken to The Pale, Skald would be there on the front line.

But, that's for another time, and another place.

Forcing himself to rise from his bed in the barracks, Sigmund dressed himself quickly, as was a running challenge in the local guard. Who can get themselves ready for the day, that armor was harder to put on them most people would think. And Sigurd prided himself on being the fastest male in the hold. The females held their own league for...reasons.

Setting himself down for breakfast, which consisted of fruit and bread, he rubbed his tan haired head.

"Morning Sigmund. Nightmares again?" One of the other guards in the hold, a female by the name of Becia Flametounge, and incidentally his cousin, asked. Sitting across from him with her own breakfast, which also consisted of bread and fruit. Call it unimaginative, but it was all they had. The Jarl probably got all the best food, then again, he seemed like a traditional Nord. So it was unlikely.

"Aye. Been having the same damn dream over and over again. I've been thinking, what if this is the work of some Daedra? I heard that the Silus guy is opening a museum or something about that Mythic Dawn. Think he might have something to do with it?"

"Doubtful, he strikes me as more the misguided type. He wants to revive his family legacy or something." Becia replied, shooting his suggestion down, "You should get yourself a wife, you know." She said suddenly.

Sigmund choked on his bread.

"What-" hacking out his words, Sigmund punched his chest a few times before regaining his breath, "What in Talo's name are you babbling about?"

"A wife, you should get yourself one." Becia answered without missing a beat.

Sigmund shook his head, "Not this again…"

"You know your family would be happy."

"I know."

"Your mother would love to have grandkids."

"I know."

"Your father would-"

"I know!"

Slamming his fist down on the table, the woodwork shook. Becia gently lowered her hands, and Sigmund let his temper simmer.

"I know that my dad would be proud of me if I brought a woman home. But he would be more proud of me if I did something like-"

"Slay a dragon?" Becia finished for him.

"Slay a dragon." He muttered….slumping back in his chair.

The air was silent, and a tense calm filled the space between the two. By now, the other guards had left for the morning portal.

"Look, I just think that-"

"I know."

"That you can do more than just being a guard. Hell, if the Dragonborn could do it. Anyone could." Becia said.

Sigmund snorted, crossing his arms, "Right, the "Dragonborn." Bunch of hogwash that is."

Becia glared, "It's not hogwash, she's real. They say she can breathe a breath of fire, and is as restless as the wind."

"Right, next you'll tell me she's best friends with a dragon."

Becia scowled in reply.

Sigmund huffed, his voice disdainful, "I thought as much."

After leaving the barracks, Sigmund went about his morning patrol. That said: it was mostly just walking around Dawnstar for the better part of the morning. Dawnstar wasn't that big, large enough to be a hold, small enough that one could make a complete pass in about ten minutes. Saying hello to the innkeeper, Thoring and his daughter, Karita, on his morning route, Sigurd stood at the path leading into Dawnstar. This was his morning post, and he would stay there until relieved of duty. Some of the miners could be shuffling about through Dawnstar, the hold's main source of livelihood, aside from fishing that is. There were two mines, Quick-silver and Iron-breaker. It didn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what they mined.

Beyond that, nobody really came into Dawnstar unless to do some trading, they were a major port after all. But, a major port often meant pirates. Lots and lots of pirates. Just last week, they had to take out a skiv worth of the rogues when they had the bright idea to make land not that far away from the harbour.

He was still cleaning some of the blood off his boots.

Anyway, aside from the occasional bad pirate planning or troll attack, there was really nothing to do expect count the day's away from retirement.

"There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead." He began, singing a little ditty to himself, "And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he made! But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said…"

"Have you seen a guy dressed in red?"

"Huh?" Turning around, Sigmund saw a short, like, really short lady in front of him. She barely came up his shoulders. Granted, he was a Nord, but still. He couldn't make out any facial features, she was wearing a heavy cloak with the hood up, though he could make out a strand of fire red hair that draped out of the hood. She held a staff in her left hand, and from the looks of it, a sword could be seen resting on her side. Right now, she was wearing adept robes with heavy armor for legs and gloves.

"I got a letter about some guy whose starting a museum about the Mythic Dawn. Do you know where he is?" She repeated.

"Oh, right, Silus." Turning around, he pointed to a house on the far east end of the Hold, "That's the place, right over there. Just look for the tappings against the wall."

Looking to where he was point, the girl nodded, "Thank you." She said, setting off on the path.

"What do you want there anyway? He's as gone as a priest of Arkay." Sigmund called after her.

Turning around, the girl lifted her head, and her amber eyes looked back to him, "Cause I'm bored." With no more words, she went back to walking.

Watching her go, he shook his head, "Huh. Strange lady."

It was midday when it happened.

Sigmund had just been relieved of his post when Becia had walked up to him, battle axe over her shoulder.

"Hey." She greeted, "Ready for the shift change?"

"Aye." Sigmund nodded, grateful for the chance to get off his feet.

"By the way, did you see that Breton woman? She went into that Silus' house. Think she might be a cultist?" Becia asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"What? No way." Sigmund said, looking at her throw his helmet.

"What makes you say that?" Becia questioned.

"Just didn't seem the type." Sigmund stated.

"You met her?"

"Showed her the way to Silus' house." Sigmund admitted, shrugging, "Didn't really talk to her, but I didn't feel that creeped out by her. Didn't know she was a Breton though."

"Huh. Were you-"

"Be quiet."

"Ha, so you-"

"No really, be quiet. Do you hear that?" Turning around and looking to the sky, Sigmund stretched his ears.

"What is it?" Becia asked, walking up to him.

"Is that...wings?"

True enough, Sigmund heard the flapping of wings overhead, and a shadow across the ground was moving, quickly.

"Oh no, it's a…." Becia breathed.

"Dragon." Sigurd exclaimed, his breathing "Go, inform the Jarl."

"But-"

"I said go!" Sigmund snapped.

He didn't turn around as Becia ran for the Jarl's longhouse.

Alright then, Tsun, if I don't make it, you better be ready to save me a place in Sovngarde. Sigmund thought, drawing his steel sword and shield, following the Dragon's flight path by it's shadow.

The Dragon circled overhead, by now, the people of Dawnstar were scrambling for cover. Many of the other guards had taken up bows and arrows, hoping to shoot the dragon down. If any hit, the Dragon sure didn't show any signs up showing it. It's scales providing an insane defense against their iron and steel arrowheads.

"We need to bring it down!" One of the other guards shouted.

"How?!"

"Look out, it's coming for another pass!"

Sigmund barely had time to throw himself under a rock formation in the center of town as the Dragon swooped over and let out a scorching breath of fire. Touching the woodwork of the houses, and burning many of his comrades, cries of pain were rampant as the Dragon's fire roasted their skin and armor.

Forcing himself to his feet, Sigmund felt the ground shake.

Looking up, he saw the Dragon had landed on the ground level above him, and was staring right, at, him.

"Oh shi-"

The Dragon reared his head, and lunged forward. It's fanged maw shooting towards him, gaping death bent to take him to an ignominious end. Reacting on pure relfex, Sigmund raised his shield just in time to catch the bite. The Dragon was not deterred though, biting down harder, crushing his shield in it's maw. Rending the metal brittle and weak with jaw strength alone. Lifting Sigmund upward, his arm still holding onto the shield, the Dragon shook it's head left and right, before finally letting him go.

Well, letting go was an understatement, the Dragon just opened it's mouth at the end of one it's arcs and let Sigmund fly through the air like a rag doll.

The feeling of weightlessness was a strange one. For one, Sigmund felt something in his stomach retch backwards as he flew, his ears rang, and for the space of a moment, he felt like he was floating.

Then, reality came back to him as he crashed against some stairs.

Groaning in pain, Sigmund's arms were sprawled against the floorboards. Idly, he noted he fell in front of Silus' house.

Heh. He grimly noted, the Dragon was gearing up for another sprawl of flame. Even now, with his helmet broken, he could see the Dragon bend it's neck back, obviously reading itself to deliver a fiery death to the guard. Well, at the very least, Silus' Mythic Dawn crap be going along with me. He thought.

"Yol Toor Shul!" Sigmund thought he heard the Dragon shout, he was fairly certain he was imagining things, Dragons couldn't shout.

It was weird, his time was coming, but he didn't seem all that worried. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Becia was going to be okay, he wondered if he would go to Sovngarde in his death, but he mostly wondered if the Dragon would get it over with. It seemed to be taking a long time. Looking up, he saw the reason why.

Standing in front of him stood the Breton lass, holding a ward of somesort in front of her. Unyielding against the restless and devouring flame, the lass held out both holds to keep up the spell. It wasn't a perfect defense, fire was still getting through, burning away her cloak and hood. From the ground, he saw a mane of red, amber eyes narrowed in concentration, her robe fluttering the wind of flame, and his breath was taken away.

"Grrrraaaaaah!" His savoir grunted, his sense returning, Sigmund began to rise to his feet, he noted that the lass's skin was taking on a dragon like quality. Her flesh becoming scale like, and her eyes became sharper, like the beast she was battling.

Dragonskin, that's what it was called, Sigmund remembered.

Soon enough, the fire attack ended, and the lass lowered her arms. Heavy breaths and shoulders slumping came from her, but, taking in a breath. The lass walked out, unsheathing her sword.

"Hey there beasty!" The lass said, a big smile on her face, twirling her sword in her hand, "Oh right, how's it go in Dragon...Oh right. Rok til hinzaal, fos hi gaav?"

Sigmund blinked, that wasn't like any language he heard. Was that...the language of the Th'um? If that was the case, then the person who saved him was.

"Dovahkiin!" The dragon roared back, obviously pissed and causing the girl to grin even more.

"Dragonborn…" Sigmund said, amazed. The person he had run into earlier, was the Dragonborn? Huh. Just, huh.

"Tol fund kos zey! Hi gaav diron voth tol?" The lass shouted back, Sigmund didn't understand one word of it, but it sounded like she was taunting the Dragon.

The Dragon, in reply, let out a roar of pure rage and took to the skies, beginning to circle overhead.

"Oh that's cheating!" The lass shouted, running after it.

"Sigmund!" He heard Becia's voice call after him, soon enough, his cousin ran up to him, battle axe in hand, "Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine." He said, wincing and moving to hold his shield arm, it was numb, and from the looks of it, bleeding.

"By Ysmir's beard, your arm. What happened to you?!" Becia asked.

"Dragon got me." Sigmund cringed, slumping forward, "That lass, the Breton, she went after it. Turns out she's the Dragonborn."

"Amalia Farseer is here?" Becia gasped, "Where? Did you see her?! Where did she go?!"

"I just told you. She went after it." Sigmund repeated, "Just listen for the sounds of shouting."

"Gaav rigir het bo siigonis!" Came the Dragonborn's voice from over the hillside.

"See?"

"Aye. Come on, we got to help her!" Becia shouted, starting to run to where the shout came from.

"I don't think there's much we can do Becia. Becia!" Sigmund sighed as Becia ran off. Growling, Sigmund forced his legs to move and chased after his cousin.

When he got there, he saw the Dragonborn engaged in a fierce battle with the beast. Right now, the Dragon was in a rut. Literally. A large gorge in the earth it stood in, how it got there, Sigmund would never know. Becia, for her part, was also taking swings at the Dragon, but it seemed the main part was being taken over by Amalia. Holding her own despite the massive difference in size.

Lunging again, the Dragon tired to take a chunk out of Amalia's body, but, just as it came in close. Amalia swung at it's jaw, knocking it away. In a stunning display of courage, or stupidity, the girl jumped on the Dragon's mouth, and started swinging away at it's nose and eyes.

After hacking away at it, The Dragon finally gave up the ghost, and went limp. Jumping off the now defeated Dragon, Amalia sheathed her sword and waited.

Panting, Becia ran up to her cousin, setting her battle axe down, she leaned on it.

"By Ysmir's beard, that was...that was…." She stammered.

"Becia. Look." Sigmund said.

The Dragon's body began to dissolve, it's flesh and scales becoming ether, flowing through the air and swarming around the Dragonborn. The Dragon's soul was being absorbed. A marvelous sight for any to behold.

That is, until, the Breton started laughing.

"Heheheheehehehe." The Dragonborn began to giggle, turning to the dumbfounded guards, she flashed them a big smile, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It just tickles!"

"...Dibs." Becia said suddenly, causing Sigmund to sputter.

Hello yet again, new chapter from the perspective of a normal guard. This mostly came out from the live action trailer, when watching, I noted the guard that was running away and I wondered how a normal person would react to this flying lizard which can breath, or shout, fire, and this guy. This, single, ordinary guy who walks up to them fearlessly and shouts them down. A once in a lifetime event for a guard, but for the Dragonborn, it's your warm up. Also, can anybody guess what Amalia was saying in Dragon?

Let's get this out of the way first, Amalia's equipment is a little different this time around, as you noticed. This is because most players don't stick with a select set of gear. Sure, you have your favorites, (Skyforge steel longsword with a soul trap enhancement for me.) but most of the time, they switch as needed. To but to help you out, Amalia mostly uses light armor with spells and two handed as her general exploration gear, heavy armor when expecting a large battle or heavy, and, because I like the series, goes Geralt of Riva when exploring tombs or monster hunting. That is, uses silver and steel in conjunction with light armor.

One last thing, I can't really say for certain that Amalia will get with somebody. On one hand, it'd be funny and a good chance to practice writing romance, but, on the other, I risk alienating their preferred ship,(meaning: couple.). Like, say, that one dark elf girl in the Collage, or those who prefer Farkas. Or that one high elf guy that every fan girl seems to swoon over.

Anyway, please, review!

Truly Wandering, Outlaw