Skyrim: A Tale of Two Dragons


Chapter 8: The Greybeards


Wulfric was up before the first rays of light hit Dragonsreach.

He'd retired to the castle as soon as his meeting with Kodlak had ended. Meeting an old acquaintance of his father had been more pleasant than he expected, though it was clear that Kodlak had been looking for information of some sort. Ultimately, Wulfric had been disappointed that he'd been unable to help the older man with whatever it was he was trying to learn.

The Companions themselves had proven to be a rowdy but close-knit bunch. If he ever sought a career other than a blacksmith, Wulfric could see himself joining them. Perhaps, years down the road, he could even take over the Skyforge in Eorlund's stead. He didn't believe that Olfina would be taking up the mantle.

Wulfric made hasty work of placing his armor in place, finishing by strapping his maul to his back. He pulled a thick greyish-black fur-lined cloak from the wardrobe in his room and threw it over himself. Being a Nord, and one that grew up high in the mountains to boot, he was already rather impervious to the cold but overconfidence would be the first thing to get you killed in the wilds.

Fastening the cloak in place, Wulfric spotted a simple iron dagger at the bottom of the wardrobe. He considered it for moment before snatching it up, sliding it into his belt. It was always good to carry multiple weapons and tools when traveling.

A shot of irritation ran through him as he was reminded yet again that the Imperials had taken all of belongings when they imprisoned him. With a frown still etched on his face, the large man strode out into the castle proper.

Only a few servants were up and about this early, preparing breakfast and feeding the large fires that kept the castle warm. Like ships passing in the night, the servants and Wulfric ignored each other entirely, content to go about their own business. The large man did stop for a moment in the Jarl's strategy center, taking in a map with various camps for the Imperials and the Stormcloaks marked on it. Wulfric took in as much of it as he could. He'd have to try and steer clear of these areas as much as possible. This war was not something he wished to be involved in any more than he already had been.

Snatching a few slices of bacon and some freshly baked bread when none of the servants were looking, Wulfric walked out into the early morning. The sun was still too low to be seen but gave off enough light to cast the city in a pale gray color. Wulfric made his way the city, seeing only a few guardsmen on patrol. Most seemed to recognize him – as the Dragon-Born or just the big guy who killed the dragon, he didn't know – and let him be.

In no time at all, he'd made his way to the city gates. The guards wasted little time opening the doors. Wulfric made his way down the sloped path quickly. He wanted to get to High Hrothgar as quickly as he could. According to Irileth, the farmers of the city were expecting a snowstorm to hit sometime today and Wulfric hoped to avoid being caught out in the worst of it.

It had been explained to him that the easiest way to reach High Hrothgar was to travel to Ivarstead. Apparently, the small town dated all the way back to the First Era, but was essentially just a pit stop now for those about to make the pilgrimage up the 7,000 steps. Considering he would be traveling by a proper road, Wulfric hoped to make it to the city shortly before noon. He'd gage the weather, possibly stay a night at the inn, and make the trek up the mountain in the morning.


The first few hours of walking were rather uneventful. Wulfric had passed by the Battle-Born estimate with slight trepidation but found that the grounds were empty and no torches were lit, so he'd passed it with a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was more involvement with his "in-laws."

There were no travelers on the roads this early. Wulfric passed a few roaming guardsmen but they paid each other no mind. Instead, when he was sure that no one was around, Wulfric practiced using his Thu'um. Repeatedly directing it at small bushes and rocks as he walked, the Nord considered how insane his life had gotten in the last week.

The fact that it had been just over a full week since being abducted and sentenced to death in Helgen to now seemed impossible. It felt Wulfric had crammed a full year's worth of events and revelations into just a few days. It wasn't something he was used to, that was for sure. Wulfric had always enjoyed having a simple life. He loved his job as a blacksmith and had wanted to set up shop somewhere near home, become known as a reputable craftsman and eventually settle down with a family.

Now he was on a grandiose quest to climb the world's tallest mountain to see a secretive group of monks after killing a dragon and absorbing its soul. And that had happened while fighting a duel against his mother's estranged family who hated him because of his father….while on the run from the Imperial Army who wanted him executed for being a part of a rebellion he knew nothing about.

Wulfric sighed deeply. It felt like someone else had taken over his life recently. Collecting his breath, he shot out another burst of his Thu'um at a nearby pine tree. A flock of birds burst from it, flying off into the now mid-morning sunlight with indignant squawks.

It was a strange feeling for the Nord, this Thu'um.

To use it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Each time he felt a pull from within himself, similar to when he used the small bits of magic he knew. Until the feeling disappeared, Wulfric realized that he couldn't draw on his Thu'um. He figured that it operated the same way as magic did, essentially meaning that he could only do so much at once.

Wulfric continued along the road until a town became visible in the distance. Even from afar, Wulfric could see it was tiny. Calling it a town even seemed too much; it was more like a small collection of buildings. Either way, it would suit his needs for the time being. The sun had disappeared behind thick, dark clouds. Wulfric was hardly an expert of Skyrim weather but he figured that the snows he'd been warned about were on their way.

Wulfric reached the inn just as the snow was beginning to come down in a flurry. He was lucky to have not been caught out in the worst of it. Even now, the thick white flakes made it hard to see any good distance. Even with a road to follow, it wouldn't be hard to wander off of it and get lost in the wilderness.

The large man pushed open the door to the inn and was welcomed with burst of warmth. He quickly shut the door behind him, sealing the heat back in. A quick glance around told him that the inn was probably full. Every single door he saw was pulled shut, a usual sign of occupancy. A lone bard sat near the fireplace, lute resting across his lap, while a barmaid restocked here glasses. Despite having all the rooms full, the hall felt surprisingly empty.

Figuring he'd bide his time until the storm let up, Wulfric walked over and took a seat at the bar. The barmaid, a stout Brenton woman with thick black hair pulled up in a bun and dark brown eyes, put away a few more glasses before turning to look at him.

"What can I do you for?"

"A room while the storm passes and any hot food you've got."

The woman eyed him up and frowned. "Fair enough. We've got a few rooms still open that you can have your pick of, but don't go thinking that you're going to eat all of my stew. I've dealt with Orcs smaller than you and then can clean a whole panty out themselves."

Wulfric laughed at that. "Fair enough. A single bowl will be enough for me. How much'll that run me?"

The woman's frown shifted into a slight smile. "It's 10 gold for the room and another eight for the meal."

Wulfric nodded and looked around the bar. He spotted a small bottle of Alto wine of a shelf behind her. "Will 25 Septims get me a room, a meal and that wine?" he asked, nodding his heads towards it.

The Imperial woman raised an eyebrow. "It's going to take more than that."

The two spent the next few minutes lightly haggling. Eventually, the large man had himself a room, a bottle of wine and would have a meal brought to him shortly for 35 Septims. Wulfric wasn't overly concerned about the price, but missed needed to practice his haggling techniques. If he intended to strike out on his own as a business owner, he was going to have to get better and adjusting his prices on the fly. Unfortunately, his skill had always been with the forge and not the people skills.

Wulfric was just making himself comfortable in his room when he heard a loud commotion from the main hall of the inn. Not really wanting to get involved in anything but still curious, he peered through his barely open door. Wulfric had to hold back a deep sigh when he realized what he saw.

There, parading around the main hall, was a small group of Imperial Legionnaires. At the front of the group was none other than Ria, the Imperial captain who had been insistent that he be executed at Helgen. The two had a fought a brief scuffle right after the dragon attack, ending with Wulfric smashing her over the head with a chair and fleeing into the underground caves below the city.

Good times.

There were four soldiers, including Ria. The brash woman stood out like a sore thumb next to her peers with her heavy armor and officer's helmet with the steel plume. Two of the soldiers – a female Nord and a male Brenton – were in the standard studded leather armor that the Imperial Army wore. The last one was concealed beneath a heavy traveling cloak. All of them looked irritable.

Wulfric stepped away from the door so that he wouldn't be spotted by kept close enough to hear what all the commotion was about.

"I said that I need four rooms now," he heard Ria demand. "Your Empire requires this of you."

"It's not that I'm refusing ma'am," the barmaid said in an appeasing tone. "It's just that I've only got three rooms available right now. The rest are being occupied. You can have those but that's the best I can do."

"Occupied huh? By who?"

"I don't exactly ask for their life's story when they're renting a room. They give me the gold and they get the room. I don't know any of their names."

"Well, let's just see if one of them wouldn't mind giving up their room for loyal servants of the Empire."

In an instant, Wulfric snatch up his maul from where he'd placed it on the floor. If Ria spotted him, he expected the worst. He held the massive hammer at the ready, just waiting for his door to open.

It never came.

Instead, he heard a loud crash and a yell as the Imperial kicked open the door to a different room. A disgruntled merchant stormed out in the main half, furious at having his privacy destroyed. He quickly relented when Ria drew her sword and raised it to his throat.

"The Empire requires your room for the night, good sir," she said in a lightly mocking tone. Wulfric clenched his maul harder but did nothing. "Would you be willing to give it up for one of these loyal soldiers?"

The merchant, with a slight potbelly and hunched back, stared at the group of soldiers. His face reddened with a mix of fury and shame as he lightly nodded. "It would be my honor."

Ria sheathed her sword. "Excellent, thank you for your kindness."

The Imperial captain pushed past the man without another word and began tossing his things out into the main hall. "Brandr, you take this room," she called out. The cloaked man followed her into the room. "The rest of you spread out and find an empty one. We'll stay here until the storm passes. I know that there have to be more of those rebel bastards around here. They're probably just laying low after Helgen but we'll smoke them out soon enough."

Wulfric relaxed his maul and slumped down on the bed. They were here for Stormcloaks, which he knew Ria would consider him as. He'd have to leave immediately or try and fight his way out. Stealth had never been his strong suit, but the idea of facing four fully prepared Imperial soldiers didn't seem like a great idea either.

As soon as they settled in, he'd have to make a break for it.

Wulfric pulled his door shut the rest of the way and made short work of gathering the few things he'd laid out when he got the room. He had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice if this was going to go smoothly. Wulfric glanced around the room for anything that might be of use but came up empty. His eyes did briefly focus on the small window that was position above the bed but quickly dismissed the idea.

'I'd be lucky to fit my arm through something that size,' he thought. 'I've got no chance of sneaking out through there. Going to have to go right through the front door.'

Everything ready, Wulfric simply sat on the bed and waited. He jumped a bit at a polite knock at his door before he remembered that he had ordered a meal. He swung the door open fully, hiding himself behind it, before shutting it behind the barmaid when she walked in.

The woman looked around confused for a moment before she heard the door close behind her. She spun towards Wulfric, startled but kept a hold of the steaming bowl of stew in her hands.

"What are you getting at?" she demanded, but in a hushed tone.

"I saw the Imperials out there," Wulfric told her, tone equally low. "You didn't seem in favor of them."

The woman shook her head disdainfully. "A group of thugs, that lot. I'm not for the rebellion but I can't agree with bending the knee to the Thalmor either. I just want to run my business and be left alone."

Wulfric nodded. "I can sympathize. I got ambushed by some legionaries traveling through the country to get to High Rock and barely got away. Didn't even know there was a rebellion. What's your name?" He figured it best to keep that whole Helgen bit to himself.

"Frande."

"Wulfric," he introduced himself to her. "You can probably guess that I don't exactly trust the Empire after that. I'm going to get out of here and head back to Riften as soon as the coast is clear. Going to skip this madness entirely and just go through Cyrodiil. I just need you to act normal and maybe keep a soldier's attention if it come down to it."

Wulfric reached into his bag and pulled out another handful of gold. "Take this plus the payment for the room."

Frande arched an eyebrow but nodded. She took the gold, stuffing it into a pocket on her apron and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Wulfric sighed. It was best to give out as much disinformation as possible in case the Imperials questioned her if things went poorly.

Wulfric ate his stew quietly as he pondered his next move. There were four legionnaires in total, each with their own room. Wulfric didn't trust that this calm would last until nightfall. If Ria was any example to go by, rooms would eventually be searched to look for rebels while they waited out the storm. He would have to go when all of them were separated.

For the next two hours, he waited as patiently as he could, peering out into the main hall every few minutes. Every time there was at least one soldier out there, likely keeping a watch on the storm and keeping tabs on the coming and goings of the inn. Frande had already been forced to turn three other travelers back out into the cold as Ria watched her like a hawk from a nearby bench. They had protested at first, seeking to at least wait out the storm in the lobby until they laid their eyes on the legionnaires within. They all left quietly after that.

The bard had tried to play for the Imperials but the cloaked soldier had put a stop to that, snatching the man's lute and hurling it out into the snow. The bard had run out after it and hadn't returned. Frande had looked apocalyptic but had said nothing.

Finally, Wulfric watched one of the legionaries wander back towards his room and kick the door closed. As quietly as he could, Wulfric crept out of his room and made his way towards the exit. Frande gave him a slow nod. He nodded back holding a finger to his lips and continued to creep towards the door.

Each step sounded thunderous to Wulfric. His size often gave him great advantages, but now his weight made every floorboard sound as though a mammoth was walking on it. Head on a swivel, Wulfric reached the front door with no issues and pulled it open.

A vast expanse of white lay before him. Nearly everything recognizable had been buried under several inches of heavy snow. If not for the other buildings, Wulfric would have absolutely no idea where he was. A frigid wind raced by him, chilling him to the bone as it swept into the warm inn.

Behind him, he heard a door swing open and a familiar voice cry out. "Who left the damned door…you."

Ria's voice turned to a vicious sneer as she realized who in front of her. Even with his back to her, it was clear that she recognized him. Again, Wulfric cursed his size – it made him so much more memorable to people – and took off running into the blizzard.

He heard a commotion behind him as he raced out into the void. He'd have the advantage in the cold over at least two of the soldiers, but he didn't know the terrain at all. The thick snow left obvious footprints as he ran, making for an easy trail to follow. Eventually, they would disappear as the blizzard filled them but not nearly fast enough to help him.

Wulfric spun and spotted the mountain where the steps were supposed to be. He couldn't see any discernable path up the mountain, let alone a massive staircase. He gave a mental shrug and began racing for the mountain. How much did the path matter if the monastery was at the mountain's peak?

Even from a distance, he heard Ria's voice shouting but couldn't make out what she was saying from the howling wind. He spared a glance over his soldier and spotted the two soldier and Ria chasing him. The cloaked soldier strode behind them at a brisk walk.

Just as Wulfric reached the base of the mountain an explosion of heat knocked him to the ground. Wulfric rolled to his feet and spotted the cloaked man – Brandr, Ria had called him – with two outstretched arms. He glanced to the area just a few from where he stood, stream rising from a large chuck of scorched earth.

'A wizard,' Wulfric cursed mentally. 'Fuck me.'

A malice filled smile on his face, Brandr gathered his magic to his palms and launched another fireball at Wulfric. The large Nord darted to the side to avoid it. While he unscathed, Wulfric realized that the remaining soldiers had caught up with him. With a snarl, he detached his maul from his back and prepared to fight for his life.

Ria reached him first, the two soldiers flanking her. "Igrit, to the left. Simon, take the right."

In wordless unison, the two soldiers split out from Ria, trying to box Wulfric in. He repressed a smirk. From this angle, they were preventing any more fireballs from being blasted this way. Besides, he had a trick of his sleeve that they certainly didn't expect.

"Well, if it isn't the non-rebel scum," Ria spat at him. "I'm glad to see you survived the dragon attack. Now you can be properly executed for turning against the Empire!"

"I don't even live here!" Wulfric bellowed at her. "Let me leave and there will be no trouble from me. I just want to return to my home."

Both soldiers looked to Ria, waiting for signal to attack or retreat. The captain pulled her sword from its sheath, leveling it at Wulfric. The two soldiers followed her lead. Behind Ria, Wulfric could see Brandr making his way closer to them as well.

"If all you wished was to leave Skyrim, why are you still here? You could have left days ago! You are nothing more than a rebel who is too spineless to admit it!"

Wulfric stared her down. "There are things beyond my control that bind me here, even now. I want nothing to do with your war but if you attack me, I will end this."

Ria snorted. "You will die alone in a frozen wilderness, just as all rebels shall. Kill him!"

Ria darted forward but Wulfric was ready.

"Fus!"

The sudden burst of force staggered all three soldiers, especially Ria. Wulfric thrust his maul out like a spear, it's flat head slamming into Ria's steel chest plate and sending her flying backwards. Before the other two could react, he turned tail and began to sprint up the mountainside.

Wulfric was lucky. The mountain was massive, but it had a fairly wide slope at its base. Even with the heavy snow beneath him, his footing was solid as he raced up the hills. He thanked every God he could think of for his upbringing in mountains of Wrothgar. This was practically second nature to him.

Another fireball raced by him, but it was too wide. The burning orb slammed into a nearby pine, sending it into a steaming blaze. Wulfric ignored it and continued to run up the mountain. As big as he was, speed had never been something Wulfric excelled at.

Sure enough, the female Nord – Igrit, Ria had called her – caught up to him. With a war cry, she came at him with a pair of steel war-axes. The woman launched into a practiced flurry of blows designed to keep Wulfric off balance. It was all her could do for a moment to block her strikes with the shaft of his maul.

Igrit brought both axes down in unison, hooking the staff of the Wulfric's maul between the axe's blades and handles.

"You used a Thu'um," the woman hissed at him. "What kind of monster are you to use the same thing that killer the high king!? Blasphemer!"

With a snarl, the Nord woman yanked back on her axes, trying to dislodge the maul from Wulfric's hands.

This proved to be a mistake.

The much larger man held a significant strength advantage and didn't so much as budge. Igrit looked at him in confusion before Wulfric rammed the shaft of the maul across her face. Her nose broke under the blow as she stumbled backwards, loosing grip on both axes, before collapsing in the snow.

Wulfric shook the axes loose but the other soldier, Simon, was on him before he could do anything else. Wielding an iron shield and a steel mace, the Brenton was much more cautious than his Nord counterpart. He took a few swings at Wulfric's legs with his mace, but he dodged them with little effort.

Wulfric spared a glance away and saw that Ria was slowly making her way towards them, Brandr walking alongside her. From the golden glow on his hands, it looks like he was casting a healing spell on her.

'Damn,' Wulfric swore internally. 'I need to end this quick or they'll all be on me at once.'

Feeling 'recharged' as it were, Wulfric blasted another Thu'um, this time only at Simon. He waited until the man gave another swing of his mace before releasing it.

"Fus!"

The Brenton stagged back, dropping his mace in surprise. Before he could react, Wulfric slammed his maul into his left knee. He collapsed with a cry as his knee gave off a sickening wet crack. Refusing to show mercy, Wulfric immediately lifted the maul again and brought it down on the man's chest. The leather armor did nothing as Wulfric felt the man's ribcage snap like kindling. He gave a few wet gasps before going silent. He did not move again.

Wulfric yanked the shield from Simon's corpse and held it in front of himself. His arm was far too large to fit into the enarmes, so instead he shifted his maul into just his right hand as his left gripped the shield straps, bringing it up like a large buckler.

Now fully healed, Ria charged up the slowed mountainside at him. Brandr trailed slightly behind, already beginning to strafe off to the right. He could also see that Igrit was getting back to her feet though her face remained a bloody mess.

Rather than wait to be doubled up on, Wulfric stormed forward to meet the captain. He swatted Ria's initial thrust away with his shield but the enrage captain pressed the attack. She continued her momentum into a full circle, swinging her sword at Wulfric's unguarded legs.

The big man jumped out of her range and barely had time to register a flash of red off to his right. He swung the shield around but it was too slow as a fireball slammed into chest.

Wulfric was sent sailing backwards from the explosion, shield ripped from his hand. He felt the bizarren mixture of the cold snow engulfing him while his armor smoldered from the heat. Wulfric felt his back smash into a large bolder, halting his momentum with a pained grunt as steam wafted from his chest.

He assessed the damage as quickly as he could while he tried to get his footing back. He'd been lucky, his armor had taken the brunt of the attack and the fireball itself had been more concussive than burning. Still, the exposed flesh on his right arm was a bright pink and he could smell his own burnt hair.

Ria was on his as soon as he reached his feet. Shield-less again, Wulfric parried her attacks with the staff of his maul. Wulfric held back a curse as he continued to hold Ria at bay.

'I need room to attack,' he thought furiously. 'I can't swing if she's so close to me!'

"What's the matter," Ria taunted him as she attacked. "No other rebels here to help? No dragon to save you?"

"That's rich coming from someone with a four-to-one advantage," Wulfric snarled back. A spark lit in his mind. "Well, I guess its three-to-one now."

Ria roared her fury and swung at him wildly. "Rebel filth!"

Instead of blocking, Wulfric simply dropped his maul at Ria's feet and dodged backwards. Ria was too slow to react, tripping over the giant hammer. She held her sword out from her body so she didn't land on it.

Wulfric immediately took advantage. He grabbed Ria's wrist and twisted it as hard as he could. With a yelp, the captain dropped her sword into the snow. Wulfric followed it up with a vicious elbow to her head, stunning the woman. With a war cry of his own, the massive Nord lifted the Imperial captain over his head as though she were a sack of flour and hurled her down the mountain slope.

As she tumbled violently down, Wulfric finished the job with another blast of his Thu'um.

"Fus!"

He didn't have time to watched any further. He scooped up his maul and sprinted for the discarded shield. About twenty feet away, Brandr was finishing healing Igrit's face as the Nord woman picked up both her axes.

Wulfric was breathing heavily, but so was Brandr. The man had to be running low on his magic. Ingrit's face was smeared with dried blood but she held her axes steady, likely the freshest out of all of them.

Enraged, Igrit rushed at Wulfric like a berserker. Wulfric snatched the shield off the ground and meet the charging Imperial. He swung the shield out in a violet thrust, essentially throwing a punch with it. Despite her fury, Wulfric's strength was simply too much for her. The blow hit her at a full sprint like a charging mammoth and sent her sprawling into the snow, dazed and gasping for air.

Channeling every bit of ruthlessness that his father had ever pushed into him, Wulfric dropped the shield and drew the dagger he'd taken from Dragonsreach that morning. He slammed the dagger into the Nordic woman as hard as he could, piercing the soft flash at the base of her throat where her collarbones met. Wulfric felt her body thrashing about beneath him, but he had already moved onto Brandr.

The wizard was just finishing downing a bottle with a bright blue substance in it. Wulfric tossed the dagger aside and picked the shield back up as Brandr tossed the now empty bottle away. The two men stared each other down for a moment, separated by a dozen feet at most, before the Imperial thrust his hands out at Wulfric with a scream.

The larger Nord barely managed to get the shield up in time as twin arcs of lightning slammed into it. It's was only his pure size that kept the Nord on his feet. Wulfric gritted his teeth as the magical lightning pushed through his shield. Within moments, his arm went slack, numb from the wizard's attack.

Wulfric felt the shield drop from his useless hand, completely exposing himself to Brandr's attack. To his surprise, the wizard was doubled over, breathing rapidly. Evidently, the potion he'd taken hadn't restored him as much as Wulfric thought.

Brandr, seeing his opponent was weakened, immediately pulled another flask of blue liquid from a satchel at his waist. He thrust the vial against his lips and threw his head back, trying to get it down as quickly as possible.

Wulfric realized he had only a split second to act. He hefted his maul up with his good hand and pulled it over his head and behind his back, almost like he was about to chop a piece of wood. It was a move he'd practiced hundreds of times during his youth, both from his father and Chieftain Bashon gro-Urgash, though never with something this heavy. He emptied himself with a single breath and swung the hammer forward as hard as he could.

The maul swung forward in one smooth motion as Wulfric released his grip on the shaft, the giant hammer hurtling through the air it hand been shot from a giant crossbow. Brandr dropped his gaze back down, potion finished, just in time to see it and nothing more.

The maul impacted the wizard's skull in an explosion of gore. Essentially decapitated, the Imperial's body collapsed to the ground, blood gushing across the snow-covered mountain side.

Wulfric dropped into the snow, exhausted. The entire fight had only lasted a few minutes at most, yet he felt as if he'd pulled an all-nighter at the forge. The wizard's lighting had drained on nearly all his energy. His body barely registered the cold as the adrenalin wore off. Wulfric wasn't sure how long he laid in there, surrounded by corpses on the side of the mountain, but eventually he pushed himself to his feet and took stock of the area.

Trying to shake out the numbness in his arm, he walked over to retrieve his maul first. He decidedly did not look at Brandr's corpse as he passed, taking his time to walk wide around the growing patch of red snow surrounding it. He found his maul a good ten feet past Brandr, its head still covered in the wizard's remains. Wulfric dragged it through fresh snow several times to clean it before refastening it to the back of his armor.

He made his way over to Igrit's body next, and gave it a once over. As far as he could tell, she had died quickly. With a grimace, he yanked the dagger from her throat and cleaned it like he had his maul. Placing it back on his belt, he spotted a small satchel at her side and rifled through it before pulling out a small flask of red liquid – a healing potion. He downed it and immediately began to feel the numbness in his arm fade away. The burned skin on from the fireball remained an angry pink color but the burning sensation subsided as well.

He went to Simon next but found nothing on the man but a few lockpicks and a handful of coins. His shield had been the only useful thing and that was now scorched beyond repair from Brandr's lighting blasts. Wulfric pocketed the picks and coin all the same and looked down the slope for the last Imperial.

Instead of seeing Ria lying in a heap, he saw a set of footprints followed by a small trail of red leading back down the mountain slope. Wulfric frowned as he followed the trail back to Ivarstead. Already her trail was becoming more and more faint as it was covered by fresh snow. In only a few minutes it would be gone and her footprints wouldn't last much longer. By the time he got down there, she would be incredibly hard to track down.

Wulfric sighed. He hadn't wanted to kill Ria, per say. He'd hadn't wanted to fight at all! But knowing that someone as zealous as Ria had seen him kill three of her compatriots – who were under her command, no less – and then escaped did not bold well.

At this rate, every Imperial soldier in Skyrim would be on the lookout for him.

Wulfric eyed the bodies one last time, muttering a quiet prayer for them. Finished, he turned and began the long hike to the mountain's peak. Ria's escape or not, he still needed to find the Greybeards.


The weather only worsened as Wulfric marched his way towards the summit. He'd wandered around the mountain as he climbed, trying his damndest to find the steps. It took him nearly an hour but he found them. The thick stone slabs that made up the proverbial steps were buried under about a foot of snow. Once found, however, the path their lead him one was easy enough to follow even with his limited vision.

Slowly but surely, the Nord made his way towards the peak of the mountain. Balgruuf had called it the "Throat of the World" which Wulfric had thought was a bit much at the time. Now though…he could see why. Despite the constant up-and-down slopes that the path followed, Wulfric always felt as though he were climbing higher and higher.

Since having dealt with the Imperial soldiers, his journey had been relatively stress-free, aside from the weather. Wulfric figured that most wildlife was seeking shelter from the howling winds and fierce snow that made everything vanish after twenty feet. Still, the man continued to climb, battling the elements every step of the way.

'Thank Talos for this Nordic blood,' Wulfric thought ruefully as he trudged through the thick snow. 'Because this cloak isn't doing shit to help me.'

After another hour of climbing, Wulfric eventually tuckered down in a small crevice in a rock face. While he could manage the cold well enough – it was terrible but it wouldn't kill him unless he was out here for days – he simply couldn't see where he was going. He'd nearly walked himself off a cliff face as he tried to push through the storm.

He was lucky. He knew that any other Imperials that Ria might have had with her in Ivarstead would be helpless to try and track him in this weather. Between the winds and the snow, his trail wouldn't last long, if they could even find it.

So, he waiting patiently in his little hole for the storm to pass. He used the time to look over his maul, redesigning it further in his mind. He'd made it in a single day and while he was proud of that, he knew that there were improvements to be made. Stronger metals, better weight distribution, the whole works.

What did trouble him was his effectiveness. He'd designed the maul so that he could weld it with a single hand, with an extended shaft for blocking or in case he needed both hands. The design, while effective so far, was far from optimal. He'd need to commit to making it fully one style or the other. The mishmash of it now would not work in the long term.

If he kept it in a one-handed style, he'd need to come up with something for his left arm as well. Wulfric had never been a dual welder. That was something his father took special pride in, often using a mace and an axe in unison. The dexterity one needed to do so was just nothing something Wulfric was capable with his size.

The large man continued to ponder this as the storm began to die down before eventually stopping all together. With a tired grin, Wulfric pushed himself out of his shelter and began to ascend up the mountain again.

Visibility was drastically better now and it wasn't too long before a large monastery came into view at the mountain's peak. It was a massive stone monolith, wider than it was tall, with two curving staircases leading up to dual entrance doors. Between the staircases was a large tower with a burning lantern at its base, surrounded by gifts and offerings. Various statues and stone carvings littered the building and the surrounding area, one of which Wulfric immediately recognized as Talos.

It was clear that the Greybeards thought little of the White-Gold Concordat.

Still a good mile away from the building, Wulfric began to pick up the pace as he approached. In his excitement, he never heard anything until it was too later.

Something slammed into Wulfric's back like a charging bear. The large man was sent sprawling into the snow, the breath ripped right from his lungs. He tried to stand but another massive blow to his chest sent him sailing backwards. Wulfric felt something crack beneath his armor as a white-hot pain lanced in his side.

As he stumbled back to his feet, his attacker lumbered over and let out a monstrous roar. It was an alien sound to Wulfric, some odd mix of a bear, a mammoth and a man. The beast itself was like nothing he had ever seen before.

It stood well over a head taller than Wulfric himself and just as wide. It was covered in snow white fur and pale white-grey skin, making it nearly invisible against the snowy mountainside. It had shorter legs but compensated for them with two longer muscular arms with three thick digits on each hand.

It shoulders were covered in an array of short white spikes and it glared at him with three black eyes, the third embedded in its forehead. It opened up its wide fanged mouth and gave out another roar, spittle flying from its maw.

Wulfric reached for his maul only to grasp at air. The creature had knocked it off on its first below and the weapon was now buried under the snow somewhere. Wulfric's eyes darted wildly for it but he found nothing. With a grimace, he pulled out the small dagger he had and looked for any weak points on this monster.

The beast rushed at him suddenly, propelling itself forward on its powerful arms faster than Wulfric could have anticipated. Wulfric prepare to made a wild lunge for the beast's throat, figuring he had no better option. Before he could make the move, a trio of voices sounded out.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The sheer volume of the sound drove Wulfric to his knees even as a tremendous force rushed past him. Even having missed him, it sent him sprawling ass over elbows.

The beast hadn't been nearly as lucky. The monster was sent flying as though slapped by the hand of Akatosh himself. Limbs flopping wildly, the creature didn't even have time to make a sound as it went sailing off the mountainside into the open air. It quickly fell out of view, plummeting to the ground thousands of feet below.

Wulfric spun on the ground, trying to figure out what had happened.

Now standing over him were three men, all in thick grey robes with long grey beards. Two of the men stared down at him silently, studying him as though a child would a newly found insect. The third man, who stood between the other two, looked down at Wulfric and smiled lightly through a bushy beard. He extended a hand down to the larger man.

"Hello," he said in a controlled voice, calm and even. "We are the Greybeards. Welcome to High Hrothgar, Dovahkiin. We've been expecting you."


Well, that certainly took longer than expected. I didn't originally plan a fight scene here at all but I found myself compelled to write it as a defining moment for Wulfric.

As stats are still down as of this writing, I just want to tell everyone that I appreciate any reviews, follow, favorites, etc. They really are fuel for me to keep going on this story. I'm also open to hearing any constructive criticism that anyone has. I just want to write the best story possible.

See you in the next one!