Before the Storm
I'd thought we'd have to trek through the entire dungeon again to leave, but Ralof knew these barrows better. After a brief search, he found a tunnel tucked away behind the singing wall which sloped gently upwards. I gave a sigh of relief when I saw daylight shining up ahead. We emerged blinking into the late afternoon sun. We were on a ledge about halfway up the mountain and we could see the river carving its way through the valley below us.
"There's Riverwood," I said, pointing downstream where the top of the mill was just visible over the pine trees.
After slipping and sliding down the slope we began the walk back to the village in high spirits. Ralof was still admiring his new sword whilst I wondered about the stone map I'd discovered. We had just forded a small stream when I heard a whooshing noise above us. I whirled around and gave a gasp of horror. A dark winged silhouette was swooping towards us with the sun behind it.
"It's that dragon!" I cried. "Quick! Hide!"
Ralof and I sprinted towards an old fallen tree and vaulted over it. We lay on the damp moss, pressed against the rotting log, then the whole ground shook as the creature landed nearby. I heard a wet, crunching noise and I dredged up enough nerve to peek over the log. The dragon was about fifty feet away by the stream, its powerful jaws ripping bloody chunks off a carcass. It looked like a sheep or goat. The dragon either hadn't noticed us, or wasn't interested because it focused on devouring its meal at didn't look in our direction. Its scales gleamed bright green in the dying sunlight and I frowned thoughtfully. Ralof plucked at my sleeve to get my attention and jerked his head in the direction of Riverwood. I nodded and crawled after him, keeping low and quiet, until the dragon was out of sight and ear-shot.
"That monster is still lurking around then," Ralof sighed. "It's a wonder it hasn't burned the village to the ground yet."
"That wasn't the same dragon we saw in Helgen," I disagreed with a shake of my head. "It was green. The one in Helgen had black scales, and it was bigger than that one."
Ralof groaned and rubbed his face.
"Two dragons?!"
"That we know of," I said grimly.
"Great. This isn't good. Riverwood is defenceless! We need to go to Whiterun and warn the Jarl."
"Whiterun?" I asked.
"It's the hold capital, Jarl Balgruuf is supposed to watch over all the villages in his domain."
"Is it safe for you to go to a big town? I mean, you are a wanted man. What if there are Imperial soldiers there?"
Ralof huffed a laugh.
"Even if there are, I doubt they'd recognise a lowly scout like me. Besides, Whiterun has remained neutral in the civil war so far. You'll find both Imperial and Stormcloak supporters aplenty there. I think we have to go, we can't leave them in the dark."
I agreed on that front but when we arrived in Riverwood, something happened which rather changed our plans.
Gerdur came hurrying over the moment we walked through the village gate. She looked excited and frightened.
"Brother, there are some of Ulfric's men here to see you," she whispered and Ralof stood up straight.
"Where?" he asked without preamble. Gerdur beckoned us to follow and led us around the house towards the mill. She pointed under the platform and I saw a group of men and women all clad in armour and blue cloaks standing in the shadows. Gerdur hung back but Ralof went briefly down on one knee.
"Housecarl, my heart sings to see you all here."
The man he was addressing sniffed. He was tall and built like an ox, he wore a bearskin cloak and had a huge two handed war hammer strapped to his back, as well as a smaller one-handed hammer on his belt.
"We got your message Ralof, glad to see someone got out of Helgen in one piece."
His voice matched his cloak, rough and growly like a great bear.
"Ulfric, is he..." Ralof began but the housecarl interrupted him.
"The Bear of Markarth still lives and we've regrouped at Windhelm."
Ralof gave a great sigh of relief and breathed,
"Praise be to Talos."
The housecarl turned his fierce gaze on me and I found myself ducking my head to stare at the ground between us.
"Who is the Breton woman?" he barked. Ralof clapped me on the shoulder.
"This is Lyra the mage. She and I escaped Helgen together, she'll be a fine fighter one day. Lyra, this is Galmar Stone-Fist, housecarl to the High King."
"A mage, we've no use for elf spawn," Galmar sneered. I scowled and lifted my chin to glare at him defiantly.
"I hope you remember that next time you take a wound and a restoration mage saves your life."
There were some titters from the group behind Galmar.
"We're heading east," he said curtly to Ralof. "We need you back to scout the way."
"Of course, sir. I have a grave report for the high king about dragon sightings," said Ralof and I glanced sharply at him.
"Wait, what? I thought we were going to Whiterun?" I muttered from the corner of my mouth. Ralof gave a look that clearly said, shut up we'll talk about it later.
"You have until dawn to get your affairs in order here," said Galmar. "Meet us at the standing stones at daybreak. We want to swing by Helgen on the way to Windhelm, see if there's anything to be learned."
Galmar and his crew left, not by the main road, but along the river bank so they had the trees for cover. Once they were gone I folded my arms.
"So, that's it then? Back to the Stormcloaks for you?"
Ralof nodded.
"It's where I belong, I'm honour bound to fight for the cause."
"But – the Jarl – Whiterun!" I protested.
"You will need to go alone, someone must warn them and you've seen dragons up close, Balgruuf will want to talk to a real eyewitness."
My heart clenched with fear and loss.
"Please, don't make me go on my own," I pleaded. I don't want to be alone in Skyrim, I thought.
Ralof shifted his feet guiltily and sighed again.
"I have to go, Lyra, I can't abandon my brothers and sisters in arms. You understand that."
I looked down at the ground and unfolded my arms.
"I guess."
The next morning, before the sun had really risen, Ralof and I said our goodbyes on the stone bridge leading out of the village. Ralof gave me a crushing bear hug.
"Take care of yourself lass, watch out for dragons and Imperials."
"I hope we'll see each other again soon," I sniffed.
"I'm sure we will, I'd be honoured to fight by your side. Farewell."
And with that turned on his heel and strode east along the cobbled road. I watched him until he turned a bend before sighing and directing my steps north-west, following the river. I'd used the coin I'd earned from returning the golden claw to Lucan to purchase some properly fitting clothes, trousers, boots, a linen shirt and thick felt tunic. Ralof said this was a mild summer for Skyrim but there was nothing mild about it in my opinion, the air had a bite and frost glistened on the grass in the early morning.
The sun rose as I walked and I enjoyed the hint of rare warmth on my face. I'd expected to see more people but as the day wore on I met no one. I saw plenty of animals, deer drinking at the river and foxes snuffling in the undergrowth. And there were flowers I'd never seen before, delicate tiny blue blossoms and spiky stalks ending in red petals.
The river grew wider as I journeyed, and water churned over boulders and fallen trees. Then, around mid-afternoon, I rounded a copse of pine trees and saw the land fall away into a flat, mostly treeless plane. Half a mile away stood a solitary formation of rock with a keep at the top and a city built up its slopes. Whiterun, it had to be. I adjusted my ill-fitting breast plate and started down the hill, picking my way carefully along the path as it wound back and forth.
A couple of farm hands dug in a field on the left side of the path, their mattocks thudding on the frozen earth. A town guard in yellow livery, holding a pike, patrolled the road and nodded to me as I passed. I saw more and more people as I approached the town stables and main gate, more guards, more farmers, merchants, builders, grubby faced children. Right outside the city gate a dozen tents had been set up with people lounging on carpets in the entrances, talking quietly amongst themselves. Then I did a double take. These people had furry faces, pointed ears and long tails flicking back and forth. One of the cat men caught me staring and smiled, revealing pointed teeth.
"Hello traveller, can I interest you in our wares?"
His accent was velvety and quite different from the clipped Nords I'd heard so far, or the nasally Imperial Lucan.
"Um, no thank you, sorry," I mumbled and hurried into the city, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. The road curved around and up, through a second archway with a drawbridge and then a third with a heavy portcullis. This one was closed and two soldiers in yellow stood guard.
"Halt," said the one on the left, holding up a hand. "City's closed for the evening with the dragon attacks, you'll have to wait until morning."
"That's why I'm here," I explained. "Riverwood calls for the Jarl's aid, there has been another dragon sighting."
"Mara preserve us, another one?" the second guard groaned. He glanced at his watch mate. "The Jarl will want to talk to her."
"Yes, I suppose he will," nodded the first. He beckoned me over to a side entrance and let me through.
I now found myself on the main road through the city's lower district. Townsfolk bustled back and forth going about their afternoon business. A blacksmith hammered away at her anvil and two children ran past in a game of chase. Then I came to a square with a well in the middle and market stalls all around.
"Fresh fruits and vegetables!" called one woman, gesturing to her display of cabbages, potatoes, tomatoes, apples and more.
My stomach gurgled at the smell of fresh bread from the stall next to the produce seller but I ignored it. I had a quest to fulfil, but as I turned this way and that, I couldn't see a way out of the market and up towards the keep. There were too many people in the way.
"Lady, could you spare a coin?"
The voice came from near my midriff, and I looked down in surprise to a find a little girl, no more than nine or ten, standing there. She clutched a ragged shawl around her thin body and the boots on her feet were both too big for her and full of holes.
"Oh, of course," I said, reaching for my coin purse, then a I paused as an idea occurred to me. "Actually, could you help me with something? For extra? I need to find the Jarl."
The girl's eyes lit up and she took my hand, leading me through the crowd to a set of steps mere feet from me. How I'd missed them I have no idea. They led to the next district – which the girl cheerfully explained was called the Wind District. It had a large tree growing at the centre, but the branches were pale and almost leafless, despite the time of year. A woman in yellow robes knelt at the base with her hands clasped in prayer.
"Evening Sister!" the little girl called as we skirted the tree. The woman nodded and smiled mildly, then closed her eyes and continued to prey.
Beside a large temple built of wood was yet another set of stairs which climbed high above the roof-tops towards the summit of the hill and the keep I'd seen from a distance.
"Up those steps to Dragonsreach," the girl explained.
"Thanks kiddo, here." I handed her two gold coins and she beamed.
"Oh, thank you! Divines bless your kind heart."
She scampered away, stuffing the coins into the pouch at her belt. I watched her go with a frown. Why was a child so young begging? Weren't there orphanages or temples to take in waifs in this land? I shook my head and ascended the steps. Soon I rose above the buildings and I could see the whole city laid out like a quilt, with the ribbon of road winding through it. By the time I'd reached the keep with its sharply peaked roof and intricately carved archway spanning the doors, I was panting. A guard stood here too but unlike his colleagues at the city gate, he didn't challenge me. Perhaps anyone coming up the steps had a reason to be here.
He opened one of the double doors and I stepped inside. My eyebrows rose as I gazed around the cavernous hall admiringly. The high peaked ceiling was held aloft by a dozen wooden pillars. As I climbed another set of stairs I saw a long fire place at the centre, flanked by trestle tables covered in yellow cloth and silver platters and goblets. At the back of the hall there was a finely craved wooden throne with a group of people clustered around it talking urgently. But my eyes were drawn above their heads to a huge dragon skull hanging on the wall. Its wicked horns and empty eye sockets gave me a chill.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?"
I jumped and my eyes snapped to the Dark Elf woman who had broken away from the group and approached me. Her lips were pressed together in a stern line. She began to draw her sword and I raised both hands.
"Whoa hold on! I'm here with a message from Riverwood, there's been a dragon sighting."
The woman paused and sheathed her blade.
"Gods, that would explain why the guards let you through. Step forward then."
Cautiously, I did as I was bid and found myself before the seated Jarl. He was a serious looking Nord of about forty, with typical blonde hair and short beard. His clothes were richer than any I'd seen so far, a quilted doublet, embroidered around the collar and cuffs with horse designs.
"What is your name, traveller?" he asked, holding up a hand to silence the Imperial man who had been talking in his ear.
"Lyra, my – lord," I replied, stumbling over what to call him.
"What news from Riverwood, Lyra?"
I relayed everything Ralof and I had seen, concluding with the green scaled dragon flying off towards the mountains. Jarl Balgruuf listened without interrupting then nodded gravely.
"Thank you Lyra, your warning is most welcome. To escape from Helgen was quite a feat."
He turned to the Imperial, a balding man in his fifties, also richly dressed in red.
"Now do you see the danger Avenicci? Dragons flying loose over my hold, threatening my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."
The Dark Elf bodyguard bowed but Avenicci spoke up.
"My lord, the Jarl of Falkreath will see that as a provocation, he will think we are mobilising to join Ulfric. Riverwood is so close to his lands."
"Be that as it may, Riverwood is part of Whiterun hold and is mine to protect. I will not abandon my people for the sake of politics."
Balgruuf's tone was very final and Avenicci bowed his head in acknowledgment. I tried to hide the smile that tugged at my lips but Balgruuf noticed it all the same.
"Well done, you have done us a great service. You sought me out on your own initiative. I have a task in mind for you suitable for someone of your particular talents?"
"A task?" I repeated, surprised. "Oh, uh, of course my lord."
"You will be compensated of course, come, let us speak with Farengar, my court wizard."
I followed the Jarl across the hall and through another archway into a side room. I peered around with interest at the piles of scrolls and books that looked too heavy to lift, at the crumbling maps and lists of equations, at the glass bottles and whirring metal instruments.
"Farengar?" called the Jarl and after a scuffle of papers, a head popped up from behind a pile of scrolls. A Nord man with shoulder length black hair blinked at us.
"Yes, my Jarl?" he asked as he set aside a pair of reading glasses. Balgruuf gestured to me.
"Farengar, this is Lyra. She witnessed the dragon attack at Helgen and just yesterday saw another of the beasts in the valley near Riverwood. She seems a capable individual, I thought she might be able to help you with your research?"
The wizard's eyebrows lifted with interest, and he hurried around the parchment heavy table. I now saw he was wearing floor-length, midnight blue robes. I thought I saw the hems sparkle slightly as he moved. Perhaps the robes were enchanted somehow?
"An assistant!" Farengar exclaimed as he looked me up and down and nodded. "Yes, she looks like she could handle some menial tasks, thank you my Jarl."
"Very good," Balgruuf nodded. "Make sure you pay her fairly for any work she does for you. I must get back to Avenicci."
As he left the room, he gave me a brief but firm pat on the back and I smiled. Farengar was still sizing me up like a prize horse at the fair. A little unnerved, I asked,
"So, what sort of research can I help you with?"
"I have made a study of the dragon wars these past few years, it was a fascinating time in our history. Since news reached us of the attack at Helgen, the Jarl has asked me to expand my hobby to aid in the city should we experience a similar attack."
"I'm glad to hear Balgruuf is taking this threat seriously," I nodded approvingly.
"The Jarl is a serious man in all matters," Farengar shrugged. "Now then, step over to the table."
I approached and Farengar unrolled a large parchment to reveal a detailed map of Skyrim. I picked out Whiterun at the centre of the country with a small sketch to accompany it. Riverwood was a mere dot to the south.
"I am attempting to locate dragon burial sites across Skyrim. If we could exhume a skeleton, I could study its anatomy for weaknesses."
"Sounds like a good plan," I agreed, my eye roving over the map. "Where is the closest burial?"
"Well, that's the point. We don't know. The dragon wars were thousands of years ago. I have been studying the events for years."
"I don't know much about it," I admitted and Farengar snorted, rolling up the parchment.
"I'm not surprised, scholarship is sadly neglected and even ridiculed in Skyrim. The ignorant hold all the power."
I bristled at the thinly veiled insult.
"I would like to know more," I said coldly. "Please, what happened during the dragon wars?"
Farengar obviously hadn't expected to be challenged like that because he blinked and cleared his throat.
"Well," he began. "Far back in the Mythic Era, the dragons were worshipped as gods in Skyrim. Many of the monuments that dot the landscape were in fact built as temples to the dragons. They appointed priests to lead their cult and over time this cult became tyrannical, harsh punishments for minor crimes, torture, human sacrifice. The details are lost, but at some point, the Nords rebelled. After a long and bloody war, the Nords overthrew their dragon overlords."
I nodded as I remembered Ralof telling me the same story on our trip to Bleak Falls Barrow.
"So, the ancient Nords killed all the dragons, when did the last one die?"
"In the year 139 of the First Era, the last holdouts of the dragon cult, led by a priest called Rahgot, were besieged in the monastery of Forelhost high in the Jerall mountains. When the warriors battered down the gate, they found the defendants had chosen to take their own lives on mass. The dragons were all gone by then, except perhaps a few hermits. After the war, the survivors of the dragon cult took the bones of their former masters and buried them in mounds all over Skyrim. They had some silly notion that Alduin would one day return to resurrect them."
"Alduin?" I prompted.
"Ah, of course, you are not Nord. Alduin is the god of time in the Nordic pantheon, just as Akatosh is in the Imperial pantheon."
My eyes picked over the map and the half a dozen books open on the table around it.
"Alright, so what would you like me to do?"
"I need you to fetch something for me. Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of a stone tablet which may or may not be there."
I smiled wryly.
"Well at least you're honest. Where is this ruin?"
"Bleak Falls Barrow, it's an ancient temple on the slopes above Riverwood. A miserable little village just south of here. I can show you on the map."
I couldn't help but laugh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Is something amusing?" asked Farengar coldly. Still grinning, I rummaged around in my pack and pulled out the tablet with the map etched into it. After removing the cloth I'd wrapped around it to keep it safe, I handed it to Farengar.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
Farengar's eyes went as round as the tablet, and he laid it on the table in awe.
"How did you…?"
"I had to the go to Bleak Falls Barrow the other day, there was this golden claw you see, and some bandits, and…never mind."
Farengar clearly wasn't paying a jot of attention as he hurried to a shelf and returned with a roll of parchment and a chunk of red chalk. He laid it over the tablet and took a rubbing, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"So, what is it exactly?" I asked.
"Hopefully, the key to my research! A map of dragon burials sites, placed in Bleak Falls Barrow by one the last dragon cultists thousands of years ago!"
He grabbed a notebook and began furiously scribbling notes. After a few moments I coughed to remind him I was still there and he glanced up irritably.
"I don't need any more help, you can go now."
I frowned and tried to phrase my next words as delicately as I could.
"Jarl Balgruuf said I would be paid fairly for helping you. I have brought you what he wanted, and sooner than you expected…"
With a great dramatic sigh, Farengar disappeared into a backroom and returned a few moments later with a leather pouch. He tossed it to me I fumbled to catch it.
"There, two-hundred Septims, that should be more than enough to cover it. Now please! I must get on with my work."
"T-thank you!" I stuttered, secreting the merrily jingling pouch in my pack.
Farengar didn't even glance up again and I let myself out as he poured over the tablet. Once outside Dragonreach I stood at the top of the steps gazing out over the city. I was a little unsure what to do now. I had fulfilled the quest Ralof had given me, and then another before I'd even known what it was. Before I could begin floundering my stomach gave a great gurgle and my lip curled. That was a quest I would happily undertake.