Chapter Thirty-Three:

The Forsworn

"Why in Arkay's name am I so Gods-damned hungry?!"

Cha'qim, Hiemdall, Javin, Aldren and Milos were all grinning at me. I looked like a mess. Mashed potatoes had been completely and utterly butchered, four cooked rabbit legs were void of any meat, and I had already downed three bottles of Honningbrew Mead. The cherry at the top was that I hadn't even noticed. So while the others were eating their dinner, I was the show.

"Well, you're not just eating for yourself anymore," Hiemdall offered tentatively.

"I'm a Werewolf! Not pregnant!" I snapped at the Nord. "I mean... you know, doesn't it...?"

"You need to be able to sustain both spirits. Yours, and its."

"And a Dragon's," Javin chimed in. "Can't forget that now."

"Wonder of wonders how you haven't gone batshit crazy yet," Milos added, smirking.

I rolled my eyes at them, shoving my plate away from myself in disgust. "I don't like it. In three weeks I won't even be able to move properly. I'll just have to sit on the Dragons and they'll die!"

"You actually have a high metabolism, so it's a benefit." Hiemdall grinned. "I was wondering when it'd kick in. You're a really late bloomer, you know."

"Tell me about it. I was sixteen before I had any womanly parts to speak of."

Aldren picked at his plate and cast a glance at the Redguard seated across from him. "This meal is unsatisfying."

With a meticulous frown, Javin poked his fork in the direction of the Dunmer. "Don't even think about it, Elf. I'll burn your Vampiric ass before you make a meal out of me."

"You didn't notice it before..."

"Cha'qim finds you all very, very odd. Her brother would certainly enjoy the talks with you."

I leaned back in my seat and took in the conversations around the table that had been made for us at the Frostfruit Inn. After the incident with Nahagliiv, Mralki and Rorik (the founder of Rorikstead, in case it wasn't clear) saw fit that we needed to be rewarded. So we had the inn to ourselves and got to eat as much as we wanted, as well as recuperate from our fight. Mralki had left the inn with his son Erik to have him fitted for armour in Whiterun, so it was under Rorik's eye. I figured the old man liked having something to occupy his time.

Watching everyone, I couldn't help but wonder if it was like this for Hiemdall when he was with the Companions. Everyone eating and drinking merrily, occasionally throwing some snide but playful comments and insults around... How well had Hiemdall known Kodlak? Well, he grew up in the Companions, so I figured he might know the previous Harbinger pretty well...

"Hiemdall, what was Kodlak like?" I asked the new Harbinger quietly.

His attention, once fixated on Milos as they joked and prodded each other, quickly turned to me. The blonde Nord pursed his lips and sipped some of his mead. We hadn't spoken of Kodlak after helping him get to Sovngarde... To Elana Victus, or whoever she was.

"Kodlak was a very... scarce breed," he said tentatively. "He was a fine warrior. I was told he was quite rebellious in his youth. But then age caught up and he simmered down. He only got the rot a few years ago, but it seemed to kill him in a more figurative way. I admired him. He and Skjor were my mentors for the longest of time. My father-figures, after my own died. Kodlak was a great man and probably the wisest I've ever known. I'd give anything to be half the Harbinger he was." Hiemdall smiled crookedly, and raised his tankard. "Kodlak?"

"Kodlak," I agreed, meeting his tankard with my own. "I hope he's happy, wherever he is."

Milos stared at us for a time, and then his eyes focused on the mead in his hand. "I heard that he died. Most of Skyrim was in mourning for him. I guess he was a little more important than he ever made himself out to be. Nice fellow, too."

"We went to see him... after," Hiemdall told the Argonian. "Get some answers for Taryn."

"And did you?" Milos prompted me.

"Well, he hit me with a bombshell I'm not entirely sure is true, and then I watched him die. Plain and simple. The answers I got hardly helped at all, either, since there haven't been many hereditary Werewolves in existence. I'm an anomaly."

"Wait, what? What bombshell?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. I'm tired and I'm looking forward to some sleep, so I'm going to turn in."

Milos didn't argue as I left, still hungry but unwilling to continue the conversation. I made my way to my bed and collapsed in it. I was pretty sure I was out in under a minute, too. New record... I think.

But I was woken up later in the night by Milos. I could tell because of the way he sounded when he walked. One never really knows another until they know them by their footfalls, right?

"Taryn, you awake?" Milos whispered, poking me with a clawed finger.

"Mm..." I grumbled. "I am now, apparently..."

"Can we talk?" I lifted my head to look at the Argonian. "Not here. Outside."

I lazily let my head rest back on the pillow. "But I'm so comfy..."

"C'mon. It's important."

I groaned in defeat, pushing myself up from the bed quietly, although my body was protesting. I rubbed my eyes as I followed Milos out to the porch of the Frostfruit Inn. The cold morning air stung my flesh uncomfortably, even though there wasn't yet the signs of dawn. I followed Milos' lead and leaned against the wooden railing to look at the hill that the Dragon burial mound was. Rorik was commisioning guards to stick Nahagliiv's skeleton back in its hole.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, but I felt this was the only time we could talk alone..." Milos smiled wistfully. "I realize—rather, I know I haven't been supporting you. You've been going through this... stuff, and I've been selfish."

"Damn right you have," I mumbled, yawning widely.

Milos nodded his big Argonian head. "I told you about my parents, and you supported me. I shouldn't have been so surprised that you did back then. But then you learn about your... unique heritage, and I bail on you. I was scared, Taryn," he admitted quietly. "I just... Somehow I couldn't see you as my friend. I just saw that... thing I'd fought and..." Milos' eyes found their way to my left hand, where there was still a thick white scar. "... and wounded."

He paused, and then ran a scaly hand on my scarred one, as if to massage it and make it better, like he had when we were kids and I'd been hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot and a coward. But I want to put that behind me. I want to be there for you. I'm not going to abandon you again."

I stared at my hand, my free one unconsciously making its way to my side, where the second of the physical scars Milos had inflicted rested. He noticed the movement.

"I just..." I squeezed my eyes shut, the tiredness gone and replaced by... Gods, I didn't know. "You said... When we were under the bridge..." My right hand balled into a fist, clenching at the fabric of the simple clothes I'd been supplied. "You'd said something similar. I'm finding it... difficult to believe it this time."

Milos nodded slowly in understanding. "I can spend the next three days making up excuses. I abandoned you; that much is a truth. I just hope I can earn back your trust. I'm going to help you."

I sighed heavily, my shoulders slumping. "I'm... I'm going back to bed."

He took his hand back and clasped it in his other wordlessly as I spun on my heel. I reached the door of the inn, but stopped once my hand grasped the handle.

"Milos?" The Argonian looked back at me, his eye swiviling more so than his neck. "Thank-you for coming back. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'll always be here for you, Taryn," Milos intoned. "You're my sister. I won't let you down like that again."

I nodded curtly, and then opened the door to return to bed.

It was late in the morning and closer to midday that everyone awakened and began readying themselves for the trip to Karth River Canyon. It wasn't a long way, when I observed the map, but it was likely to take two or three hours. Plus we'd be off of the road and entering the Reach, so we'd be in Forsworn territory. We'd also be privvy to ambushes of all sorts of creatures, no doubt, like wolves or bears, or even sabrecats. Gods, we'd probably even run into another Werewolf, or a brood of Vampires for all our luck.

I was glad to have the armour Cha'qim had given me. She'd told me that it was a part of her guild armour, although not dark like hers, but brown instead. The seal had been rubbed off though. Cha'qim had explained that it was for the safety of the wearer, so I was glad. But still, there were a million belts and straps that I had to get through. At least my pack was less irritating on my back. The pouches on the armour worked wonders, as well.

So once I'd strapped the ebony dagger Kodlak had given me to my boot, sheathed my ebony blade at my side, and slung my quiver of steel arrows and my ebony bow across my back, overtop my thinned pack, I was ready to kick some serious ass.

"Okay," I mumbled, "I don't do this often, so bear with me: Nine, please don't let my ass get fried this day. Or any day. Ever. But just for today, please try to keep me and everyone else safe."

"I'm surprised you haven't erupted into flames," Milos quipped as he passed me outside of the inn.

"Blessing number one, certainly," I remarked.

The Argonian hadn't changed from his banded iron armour, but the greatsword strapped to his back wasn't steel any longer. He'd swapped it for a glass weapon.

"Just make sure that blade doesn't break into a million tiny pieces," I told him.

Milos shrugged. "If a Dragon steps on it, I'll have helped."

Aldren was next to exit the Frostfruit Inn dressed in his signature shrouded armour, hood and all. He spun his daggers simultaneously in his hands before shoving them into their sheathes at his hips. He nodded curtly to Milos and I, crossing his arms across his chest.

Javin, Cha'qim and Hiemdall all left the inn at the same time. They all grinned (it seemed like they were the grin-y people of the group) and joined us. We were ready to go.

"Thank-you for your hospitality, Rorik," I said to the old man as he approached us, inclining my head awkwardly. "We certainly won't forget it."

"If you should find yourselves back here, stop by my home. I will always offer welcome to our saviours," Rorik replied. "Gods be with you."

We waved to him as we left, heading west in the direction of Hammerfell. When the little village left our view, Cha'qim sighed.

"We are a sight for sore eyes," she noted. "Cha'qim thinks that there will be many fine tales told of our adventures, one day."

"I hope the bards include the part where we all wished we could levitate up to the Throat of the World rather than climb the seven-billion steps..." I grumbled darkly.

"Seven-thousand," Aldren corrected me.

"Infinity," I countered.

Aldren smirked at me. "It isn't so bad, actually. You just complain too much."

"Do not!"

As if they'd rehearsed it, Milos and Hiemdall looked back at me. "You do," the said in unison.

I frowned at them, mumbling curses that'd make my ancestors roll in their graves. Or tombs, or whatever. Maybe both. Honestly, I wasn't sure.

We reached the canyon a few hours later. The Karth River ran through the canyon, directly from the Sea of Ghosts to the north. From our viewpoint, we could easily spot a Forsworn camp built on the river, although in a far shallower place. There was, of course, a stone bridge further south, but I doubted the Forsworn hadn't already entered the Karthspire. We'd sneak past them, only to raise an alarm.

I set my pack down behind the cover of boulders we were hiding behind and grabbed my bow. It was still a couple hours until sundown, and frankly, I didn't think Delphine would want to wait a few more hours.

"Can anyone see Delphine? Or Esbern?" I asked. When no one answered, I looked at the group. "Aldren, Cha'qim, I want you two to scout and look for them. Don't engage anyone unless there's no alternative."

Aldren nodded once and disappeared into the shadows, the cat-person following closely and just as silently. I peered over our haven of boulders, taking in the fur-clad people at the camp. Many wore the altered heads of the deer they'd felled as helms, while some chose to leave their heads exposed to show off the intricate warpaint masterfully applied to their faces and bodies. I had to admit that I was feeling bad about the future entanglement with the Forsworn. Yes, they often raided caravans like bandits and attacked Nords in particular, as well as created the ugliest bird-women recorded in the history of Tamriel, but they'd been evicted from their homes so forcefully by Ulfric Stormcloak, their people tortured and slain for running their own kingdom outside of the Nord standards. I couldn't help but pity them.

We waited patiently for the return of our scouts, and not for very long. Aldren crept up to us and pressed his back against one of the immobile boulders.

"The Khajiit remained behind to offer them a bow," he explained. "She and Delphine will take them from the north. While they're distracted, you hit them with arrows here, while the rest of us will join the fray. But Javin will be here for magical assistance."

"What? I don't get to fight?" I asked.

The Dunmer shrugged. "Delphine's orders."

"Oh, I don't take orders well, I'm afraid." I glanced over the boulders to spot Delphine, who nodded and took cover again. I frowned automatically. "I'll go with her plan for a bit, but I'm jumping in later. The magical target on my back won't keep the Forsworn at bay, unfortunately."

Shrugging again, the Dunmer signalled to Delphine. Cha'qim was the first to stand and fire an arrow into the camp, striking a wandering Forsworn man. Immediately, the Reach natives clambered for their weapons and ran up the hill, dodging arrows from the bows of both Delphine and Cha'qim, as well as the icicles Esbern was casting from his hands. Milos and Hiemdall slid down the hill at our end and ran at the backs of the Forsworn, roaring loudly to grab their attention. I nocked a steel arrow into my bow and aimed into the clump of natives. I managed to strike a man in the arm, but he seemed oblivious to the wound and continued to assault Hiemdall.

A Forsworn noticed me and began lobbing spells in my direction, but when she got too close, Aldren appeared behind her and deftly ran the blade of one of his glass daggers across her throat. I thanked him as I charged past him, my bow slung across my back and ebony sword in my hand. I could tell without looking that Delphine was none-too-happy about my appearance in the fight, but she'd have to live with it.

"Hiemdall, Milos!" I yelled. "Move!"

The two quickly dodged away from the incoming blades of the Forsworn. The clump of them still hadn't gone down; they were tougher than they looked!

"Fus Ro Dah!" I Shouted.

The Forsworn were caught in the Thu'um and blasted backwards, some breaking their necks upon impact with the ground and still others slamming into jutting rocks. Hiemdall, Milos, Aldren and I were quick to kill the remaining ones while they were stunned on the ground

"Hagraven!" came Esbern's strangled cry as he dove for cover from a wave of fire.

Javin was there immediately, casting a ward to protect me with both hands as the hagraven came upon us. I'd only really seen them in books before—illustrations, but this was no drawing. The creature had a hooked nose which widened at the nostrils but sharpened at the tip as if it were a beak. Her hands only had three fingers and a thumb each, and they were all gnarled and tipped with ochre claws. Below the knee, her legs appeared digitigrade, with only three toes that mimicked the claws on her hands. She haunched over, breathing raggedly, and then screeched ferociously at us, her mop-like grey hair slapping against her face, caked with blood.

"Allow me, my dear," Javin said to me over his shoulder, and then dropped his ward to cast the largest flame spell I'd ever seen right back into her face. She shielded her face from the newfound assault, moving remarkably fast for someone who looked as though they'd keel over at any minute, and then blasted through the flames to reach for Javin with her claws.

I side-stepped Javin and brought my sword down, lobbing off the hagraven's hands. She screamed in pain and rage, cradling her ruined stumps close to her chest at the same time Milos appeared behind the creature and cast his greatsword in a wide arc, severing her head from her shoulders. The hagraven's body slumped forward, and then slammed against the ground, dead.

"Now if that thing wasn't ugly, I don't know what is," Delphine said as she came up behind us, sheathing her bow.

Javin shuddered suddenly, his body trembling and his eyes cloudy with a memory I could only imagine. "Never, ever again. I've sworn off drinking for good. Especially with Daedric Princes."

Gods only knew what the mage was prattling about, but I patted his shoulder anyway. "Thank-you for the ward. I need to learn more magic, I think..."

"Well, I'd be happy to give you a few lessons," Javin happily replied, "but I don't have a very idyllic place for instruction at the moment."

Delphine watched us with a haughty gaze and a raised eyebrow. "You didn't follow my orders," she said simply.

"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?" I replied.

"You didn't follow my orders," the Breton repeated.

I shrugged. "I'm not a Blade."

"As the senior, battle-hardened warrior here—."

"You want to talk about seniority? Then I vote Esbern gives the orders. Or, I don't know, the Dragon soul that seems to be inside of me."

Delphine placed a hand on her hip and pointed at me with the other one. "Listen; at Kynesgrove, you got lucky. You could've killed the people with you the way you handled that Dragon."

"But I didn't—!"

"So from now on, you'll follow my orders, and you'll do it without complaint. Perhaps you'll even learn something."

I glared at her. I almost had an entire head on the Blade. "Good idea. No, really. I've always wanted to see how one can become a stuck-up, paranoid old bitch."

Delphine's hand was immediately on the hilt of her curved blade. "Choose your next words carefully. Dragonborn or no, I'll make damn sure you're humbled."

"A leader doesn't force others to follow them. A leader asks, and listens for feedback to improve." My hand was on my own blade. "Your plans are solid, but if you try to force me to follow you, I'm going to resist."

"The plan worked."

"And then came the hagraven." I raised an eyebrow at the Breton. "Didn't see that one, did you?"

Delphine opened her mouth with a waiting retort when Esbern stepped in-between us, both of his hands on one of our shoulders. "We're almost at the wall. Set aside your anger for the moment. Because we're after the old sanctuary of the Blades here, I suggest what Blades are left take the lead." Esbern's weary blue eyes turned on me, though they weren't stern at all. "Is that all right with you, Dragonborn?"

The Breton narrowed her eyes at me while I sneered at her. "No, that's fine, Esbern. I have no problem with that reasonable request."

"Good." Esbern took his hand off my shoulder and very gently pushed Delphine away. "We'll lead, and you'll follow. Simple as that—."

I think we all collectively had a heart-attack, because the ground shook and threw me off-balance enough to have me fall on my arse. It was deathly silent in front of me, but I heard long, deep, drawled breathing behind me.

"It's a Dragon, right?" I asked no one in particular. "A Dragon's behind me." The Dragon answered my question, sucking in a breath to make into fire. "Feim!"

I rolled out of the way as the Dragon spat fire forward, the flames harmlessly passing through my ethereal body. As soon as I got to my feet I ripped my sword from its sheathe and danced around the Dragon to stall for the Shout to fade away. The Dragon followed me, snapping at me with its teeth to catch me while the rest of my companions (and the Blades) began hacking at the lizard.

The Dragon opened its wings and took to the sky, roaring as it banked to come at us again. I felt the Shout dissapate and examined my arm, satisfied that I was no longer see-through. Fire spewed from its maw as everyone ran for cover. Heat blasted us for a second time when the Dragon turned to engage us again, and then landed just before the camp of Forsworn as we prepared for another assault against it.

"Two Dragons in two days! That has to be a new record!" I yelled to Milos, who grinned in response.

"Well, aren't you popular!" he replied.

I ran at the Dragon, hoping and praying that it wouldn't eat me outright. There was no tactic to fighting them; just get them on the ground and hack the living daylights out of them. Which was what I was hoping to do.

Delphine got the same idea.

And the Dragon didn't like it.

It roared and snapped at the Breton. I used the distraction she caused to leap onto the Dragon's head and sink my ebony sword into its head. I guess I had to read up on my Dragon breeds, because this one had a stronger skull than the others. So, as one can imagine, it was pissed.

I was tossed off of the Dragon, regretfully unable to hold my blade, and slammed into some rocks not far from it. It turned on me as Hiemdall and Milos came to my aid. Aldren and Cha'qim attempted to sneak behind the beast, but the Dragon swept his tale and caught the two, sending them flying into Delphine and Esbern. Javin was lobbing spells at the Dragon from a safe distance. Not safe enough, it seemed; the Dragon breathed a large fireball at Javin. The Redguard threw up a ward to minimize its damage, but he was still thrown a considerable distance.

So Hiemdall and Milos attacked the Dragon. It flicked its eyes at the two and snapped at them both. Hiemdall screamed in pain as the Dragon's fangs sank into the flesh of his left arm and shoulder, but he continued to attack it with his right arm. Milos was quick to react and hurry to the wing of the Dragon and slice it open. The Dragon screeched and released Hiemdall as blood spurted from the skin of his right wing. It breathed fire at us as I dove out of the way (Milos tackled Hiemdall just in time) and then attempted to take to the sky. Its wing failed miserably, and the Dragon crashed south-east of the camp.

I sprinted up the slope of the mountain, using the rocks to my advantage, and leapt on top of the Dragon. I locked my arms around its neck as it attempted to throw me off for a second time and waited for the small intervals the Dragon allowed to hurry and grab my sword. I grabbed the fleshy web that poutrouded from the Dragon's crest to steady myself and slashed at the Dragon's sideways-slit eyes. The Dragon growled, once more sending me flying onto my back. Pain erupted in my elbow, enough that I couldn't hold back a scream. The Dragon examined me, and then snapped its jaws open to consume me.

Angling my blade, the Dragon scooped me into its mouth in one fell gulp. My legs dangled uselessly as the Dragon's teeth began to sink into my skin to draw blood. I shivered, terror running through my body as I quickly attempted to guess where its brain was, and then I stabbed in the direction I believed it was. The Dragon roared long and loud, the sound resounding in my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut, and then its head connected with the ground, mouth laxing to open.

I very slowly wriggled out of the mouth of the dead Dragon, trying to brave the pain in my right elbow. Everything from the waist-up was drenched in Dragon saliva; the rest was soaked in the blood the Dragon had drawn. I took great lungfuls of fresh air, relieved to be alive and out of its mouth.

My legs were sore, but they'd heal. I spent some of my magicka to heal my legs enough to stand and possibly make the trek back to the Forsworn camp. I was lucky though: Javin had come to me.

"You are a very welcome face to see," I commented as soon as I saw the approaching Redguard.

He shrugged. "I'm not surprised. My face is one of the most welcome anyone's ever seen."

"No kidding." Javin immediately got to work on my legs, pulling some potions and salve from his pack to preserve his powers. He'd already used them a lot. I was just surprised he didn't look more drained. "How're the others?"

"Hiemdall's arm will heal. Yours, however…" Javin gingerly took my arm. I hissed when he experimentally poked it. "It's broken. We'll need to splint it and then leave it for a day or two, perhaps three depending on the severity, before I can use any of my magicka to properly heal it. You're on support until then."

I pursed my lips. "Great. So, Shout and the few spells I know with only my left arm?"

"Yes." Javin found the straightest stick he could and grabbed some bandages from his pack. "I warn you: replacing the bone will hurt severly. If it helps to yell or scream or call me whatever names your mind can think of, feel free."

"When are you going to—? GAAAAAH!"

Suffice to say, I probably had Javin's ancestors looking for my blood. And Hiemdall's, when he came over to laugh at me. And Delphine's… Actually, I had a lot of angry ancestors that weren't mine by the time I had stopped screaming in pain and rage.

Javin set my arm delicately in a sling at the same time the Dragon began glowing. I cussed at it too, because I'd probably get to re-break my arm by the time it came for me.

"Okay, let's get this over with!" I yelled at the skeleton as I stood up.

The cloud of orange shot at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting to be thrown, but was pleasantly surprised to feel my feet firmly grounded to the earth. I opened my eyes, the cloud swirling around me, and then it slowly disspated into my skin. I felt warm, like a toasty blanket had just covered me.

So when I grabbed my sword from the inside of the mouth of the skeleton, grinning, I thanked it quietly enough that no one else would hear.