The reunited trio of Ysmir, Inigo, and Serana had many stops to make on the journey to Sky Haven Temple. First, they stopped at Riften. Serana had so far been riding double with Ysmir on Allie, but at Riften they were able to get her her own horse for the road. Then they travelled north to Shor's Stone for cheap provisions. Next the road went west, around the Throat of the World, and eventually the deep birch forests of the Rift were replaced by the rolling grasslands of Whiterun Hold. Now, they were in the city of Whiterun itself, spending a night in wooden beds instead of campsite bed rolls.
The stop in Whiterun also gave Ysmir the chance to visit his old friends at Jorrvaskr. He passed through the stone gatehouse separating the Plains and Wind district, and stopped for a second to admire the Gildergreen sapling he had helped retrieve. It was still tiny compared to the original Gildergreen, but it was growing strong and true. While Ysmir admired the sapling, he noticed something. Or rather, the lack of something. It was strangely quiet compared to what he remembered of the Wind district. It took him a second, but then he realized the silence came from a lack of Heimskr's sermons. In fact, not only was Heimskr missing, but so was the shrine and statue of Talos that had once been there.
Ysmir called over one of the guards. He gestured to the empty space, "what happened to Hemiskr?"
The guard huffed a sad sigh, "Thalmor came and took him about a fortnight ago, bad business that. Made the Jarl smash the statue as well." The guard looked around and leaned closer to Ysmir, lowering his voice, "don't bring it up around here, we had to disperse a couple of riots after it happened, the city is still grumbling about the whole situation."
"Got it, thank you," Ysmir said. Another martyr, fallen victim to the brutal persecution of the Thalmor. It was unlikely anyone would ever see Heimskr again. It was Ysmir's job to stop the Thalmor, not just to save the continent, but to end their evil once and for all. But Ysmir couldn't get distracted. Eyes on the prey, not on the horizon, he was here in Whiterun for a reason. He made his way past the Gildergreen and up the stairs to the large wooden doors of the Mead Hall of Jorrvaskr.
"Harbinger!" Vilkas called out from one of the chairs in the hall as Ysmir entered. He quickly put down the book he had been reading and walked over to Ysmir, grabbing his forearm and shaking it hard. Vilkas looked well, his nights restful ever since Ysmir helped him purge his beast blood.
"Hello Vilkas," Ysmir said as he returned the gesture, "it is good to see you. I told the Companions you should choose a new Harbinger, I was unlikely to ever return."
"Pfft," Vilkas raised his hand in dismissal, "by tradition the Companions don't choose a new Harbinger until the previous one is in Sovngarde, and we do not break tradition."
Ysmir chuckled, "well about that…"
"Wait, wait," Vilkas cut him off, "save your stories for the feast tonight, everyone will want to hear them. You are staying for meat and mead right?"
Behind Vilkas, an array of different meats were skewered on the spit roast above the fire. Baskets of bread were spread out across the table, and a large pot of stew bubbled away on a cooking stand. "Of course!" Ysmir heartily yelled, "I would never pass up the chance. But I am here for another reason."
"Oh?" Vilkas asked, "what do you need from us, Harbinger?"
Ysmir looked past Vilkas to the trophy hall, where the Companions kept displays of their triumphs and glories. When Ysmir left the Companions to travel to High Hrothgar, he brought with him something. He sent that something back to Jorrvaskr when he was burying his gear with Inigo. Above the stairs to the sleeping quarters was an axe. An ancient double-bladed battleaxe made of ebony, with intricate carvings and adornments, and the visage of a screaming elf engraved on the axe's head. Wuuthrad, or Storm's Tears in the language of Atmora. An axe built to protect man from the cruelty of elves, and Ysmir would wield it again for that same purpose.
"Wuuthrad is yours by right and by blood Harbinger," Vilkas said as he took the axe out of its display and handed it to Ysmir, "we would be honoured for you to wield it in battle again."
"Thank you Vilkas," Ysmir said. Taking the axe into his hands, he found comfort in the familiarity of its feel and weight. "Now," Ysmir said as he put the axe down, "when is dinner?"
Vilkas let out a great laugh, "I will call the rest of our shield-siblings in from the training yard now, Harbinger."
"And I will call my friends in from the Bannered Mare," Ysmir said.
And so Ysmir fetched Inigo and Serana, and they all sat at the great dining table. Vilkas fetched the rest of the Companions, and they slowly filled the rest of the hall's chairs. Each Companion came up to Ysmir and shook his forearm, overjoyed to once again see their Harbinger. They spent the night feasting and drinking, boasting and sharing stories. Ysmir told of his adventures against Alduin, and the Companions listened in astonishment as he recalled traveling to Sovngarde itself, where he met with Kodlak one final time outside Shor's Hall. The Companions raised mead tankards to the honoured dead. Brawls broke out, songs were sung, and everyone retired from the night in high spirits, and very drunk.
Tomorrow, Ysmir and his friends would leave for Riverwood for one last pick up of provisions. From there they would circle lake Ilinalta and make their way into the Reach.
"Duck right!" Inigo yelled.
Ysmir swung Wuuthrad to his side, allowing his body to bend under the weight of the battleaxe and leaning him to the right as Inigo requested. An arrow shot out of Inigo's bow, flying over Ysmir's left shoulder and finding its mark in the chest of the Forsworn raider charging down the road towards them. The raider staggered from the force of the arrow strike, and his charge turned into an off-balance stumble. Ysmir continued to lower his upper body, sticking out his shoulder and widening his stance to brace for the oncoming attacker. The raider's charge made contact, but with his body upright and Ysmir's bent over, the force of the charge sent him flipping over Ysmir's shoulder and onto the ground where he was easily dispatched by Inigo's dagger. Ysmir stood up as the raider flew over him, and with a Nordic warcry he charged up the hill at the rest of the raiding party. Several Forsworn turned to flee from the terrifying sight of Ysmir's charge; they were easily picked off by Inigo's archery. The rest hopelessly fell upon Ysmir, any blows they managed to land ineffective against his dragonplate. Using all his might he swung Wuuthrad left and right, cleaving through the Forsworn's light armour and killing them.
While Ysmir and Inigo were locked in melee, Serana magically dueled with the Forsworn Shaman leading the attack. The power of the sunlight weakened Serana's vampiric abilities, but paradoxically strengthened her magical ones. The Shaman's fireballs dissipated harmlessly upon Serana's wards, while the chain lighting she sent back drained the Shaman of her magicka every time it found its mark. Serana slowly advanced, getting closer and closer to the Shaman as lighting and fire exploded between and around them. When there was only about 5 meters between them, the Shaman collapsed to one knee, her magicka and stamina drained.
However, in a flash of Forsworn savagery, the Shaman drew a small dagger into her right hand and lunged at Serana with a yell. Expecting this, Serana was easily able to counter. She deflected the hand wielding the dagger with her left palm, pushing the Shaman's arm away and sending the thrust harmlessly past her body. Serana's right hand grabbed the Shaman by the wrist as she stumbled from the missed strike, preventing the Shaman from throwing another attack and leaving her completely exposed. A swift kick behind the knees folded the Shaman's legs, dropping her in front of Serana, who put her left hand over the Shaman's head. The sun weakened her vampiric abilities, but didn't prevent them. The Shaman let out a weak gasp as her life force was pulled from her by Serana's vampiric drain. She collapsed to the floor shriveled up and dead, while Serana took a revitalizing breath as the life force she drew was absorbed by her own body.
"Everyone alright?" Ysmir asked as the three regrouped back at their campsite following the battle, the surviving Forsworn retreating back into the mountains.
"All good," Inigo said.
"Never better," Serana said, "these Reachmen don't know when to quit, do they?" Since entering the Reach, this was the third raid the group had to fight off. Each time the group killed scores of Forsworn before they retreated.
Inigo walked from corpse to corpse collecting his arrows, examining each one to make sure the arrowheads were intact. "Even animals learn to stop sticking their noses where it hurts." The shaft of one arrow he tried to pull out snapped, leaving half of it embedded in a Forsworn's rib cage. He threw the broken arrow to the side and kept moving.
"Some men are worse than animals," Ysmir commented.
Serana looked over to Ysmir, and noticed he was bleeding from his arm where there was a gap in his armour. Serana pointed to the cut, "they got you."
Ysmir looked down and took off his gauntlets. Serana reached into her satchel and pulled out a small healing potion, but Ysmir raised his hand and shook his head. "I can handle it," he said. Ysmir conjured a novice healing spell and held it over the cut. Ysmir's mother was a Breton. His father was a Nord and he took most of his features from him, but his mother's Breton blood gave him a slight affinity for magic. Before she left she taught him some basic restoration spells, as well as several frost-based destruction spells at his fathers insistence.
"We should pack up and leave now," Inigo said, returning with a quiver full of arrows, "if we make haste we will make it by sunrise."
"And at night," Serana said as she crossed her arms, "I assure you not a single Reachman will make it anywhere near you guys."
Ysmir nodded, "let's make it happen then. And by this time tomorrow we'll be in real beds." The group got to work, using the remaining daylight to pack up their campsite and mount their horses, their actions purposeful and motivated by their desire to reach safety and comfort. By sunset the trio was on the move, riding hard to Karthspire and Sky Haven Temple.
