The sky was fully dark now, showing Jon some of the most beautiful things his Augment eyes had ever seen. The stars were denser than on earth, closer and brighter on average. Two moons showed themselves though the twisting and turning aurora borealis, and nebula clouds played behind them. While no familiar Terran constellations made themselves known to Jon, he recognized three from the guardian stones. The Mage, Thief, and Warrior. When he wasn't bone tired as he was, he would observe the night sky more carefully to identify the motions of the heavens, and therefore a northern star.
Once again the forest had a calm din to it, nocturnal insects and animals making their presence known, but speaking no treachery. He even heard the wolves on a playful jaunt, coming nowhere near the Imperial road. Coming around he bend of the small mountain adjacent to the HMR, he began to hear Whiterun in the tundra plains some distance away yet. The city was still active at a low tone in whatever hour he found him self in. It told him that it had to have a sizable population, and this what not too late in the night. He had lost all track of time.
Jon picked up the pace as he began to fall asleep while walking. The rush in his respiratory and circulatory system kept him going a little while longer. He saw the city off in the distance now, plenty of lights lit. his assumptions were correct.
There were surrounding farms and homesteads for kilometers around the vast tundra, none too close to each other. Small clusters of houses and markets dotted the flatland outside the city. There were study main walls, and they too were packed in with buildings around them on both sizes. The city proper stretched up a vast hill, and at the top sat no doubt the Jarl's place of power. It was a fine looking city all in all, and didn't smell of rot that he had known in much of the third world, or what he would expect form a medieval city. At least not from this distance. He estimated nearly ten thousand people lived in the city and surrounding hamlets. Jon heard a cry at the forest's edge. It sounded feline, but it spoke.
"Help!" and then it hissed.
It sounded like bait to Jon. A lone traveler, not making any effort to conceal his movements? Late at night? Had to be a trap, but then the nose knows. It smelled the rot of drink and villainy, only missed at first from his fatigue. Jon drew steel and continued his labors.
"Ha ha, nice little Khajiit bitch for us to play with." he heard, adrenaline now flooding his system in preparation for death-dealing, keeping him awake.
"please no" he heard a wimpier.
"Don't think anyone will miss 'this one' do yah? Lees noone importatain'." he heard a sneer.
"Can you fuck-faces be any more cliche?" He growled loudly, and heard steel in response.
He came upon them and found three men, an Elve but darker, an Imperial, and an unidentified sub species of man, smaller than the Imperial. They were in front of a frail looking Khajiit girl with most of her clothes torn off. The all had swords drawn, and they were all Legionaries. Jon pointed his own Imperial steel at the men, an unfriendly look in his eyes.
"Drawin' steel on the Legion isa' beheadin'. How bout you jus' turn aroun' wizard." The rough Imperial said.
"Tried and failed once." Jon said with a flourish, steel still pointed at the men.
"Well then we'll try again. Kil-" The Dark-Elves' smug words were cut off. Jon was on him in an instant, his own reply quiet and sharp across the man's throat.
The blood of an Imperial coated his sword, and it would only be sated by the blood of two more. He never got the chance, however, as a wolf-pack ambushed the remaining miscreants from behind. The men were hauled down screaming before the powerful jaws of the wolves crushed their spinal-cords, killing them instantly. The wolves took purposeful steps back from the hunting grounds, giving Jon his due respect. He would in turn give them their due respect. The half dog She-wolf made her presence known, howling the call to retreat for a while. The bodies of the men could be collected later, and no one would ever find them. Jon would loot the Imperial's gold before they did.
"You alright miss?" Jon asked, little sympathy in his voice. No hero had saved her. The tired and battered Augment had.
"Yess yes. Khajiit thanks you. Thank you." She whimpered, trying to fumble what was left of her dress. By Jon's eye, she didn't look and sound like a grown cat. He would only know for certain once he met more of her race.
"Do you have people?" He asked again, wanting to advance his other quests.
"Yess. Outside the city. A camp along the main road. Khajiit there." She nodded
"I will take you. Come." He brooked no delay. He gave her his robe, leaving just the rag undershirt, until she could get to her camp.
They kept along quietly, the Khajiit-girl's sobbing tapering off as they went. There was a collection of buildings to his right that smelt of warm mead, and he saw apiaries around it. The bees were inactive at this hour. Various plants of wildflower and tundra cotton littered the side of the Imperial road, which would be good as he traveled once he learned the art of alchemy. They happened upon the Camp further down the Imperial road, near the outer perimeter of the outer city.
"Sassi! Oh Sassi! You are alive my kitten!" Jon heard a cry of joy. It was obvious now that those imperials had kidnapped a girl. The mother and her daughter embraced each other, licking nuzzling and crying all the while. Others of the clowder joined in, and all rejoiced Sassi's return. The clan led her into the tents and while the mother approached Jon with his robe in her paws. A house cat, intelligence in its eyes, trotted over and rubbed itself along Jon's Boots before returning from whence it came.
Jon spoke to the mother while retrieving and donning his robe, "Drunk Imperials had her. They wont do that again."
The mother spoke, "This one thankss you. We all thank you. The guards wouldn't take uss seriously when we said our little one was taken. Skooma they ssay. The little one was off trying Skooma for the first time."
"Bastards." Jon spit, a scowl on his face.
"They all treat Khajiit like common trashs. But not you. Khajiit has waress. Alwayss give you discountss on coin. Alwayss. Tell other Khajiit about you. What are you called?"
"Jon, of house Noonien-Singh. And I'll take some food for the road, if you can spare it."
"Yess, yess. Thank you, thank you Jon of the house Noonien-Singh." The mother gave him about another day's worth of single-rations. He still needed more food. And some Divines-dammned sleep. Jon continued his labors.
He walked though the quiet outer town. By the time he had taken care of the Imperials and made a trek across the tundra, the two moons were high in the sky and beginning their decent towards the horizon. At least he could somewhat accurately confirm the time.
The Guardsman standing next to the main gate recognized a newcomer. He was not as courteous as the guard in Riverwood, "Halt, wizard. The city is closed to any except on official business. It's a late hour, and there are rumors of dragons about."
Jon was sick of being awake. He said, "I assure you guardsman, I am here officially. I bring news of Helgan and the dragons, as well as a call for the Jarl's aid on behalf of Riverwood."
The guardsman eyed the haggard, but big, Redguard wizard in front of him, "Who gave you this call?"
"Lucian and Camilla Valerius, of the Riverwood Trader." Jon flatly replied.
The other Redguards annoyed him to no end with their questions about a wayward noble, that he didn't care about, and the offer for reward if he helped them, which he wasn't going to accept. He didn't like the look of this Redguard, or any, in front of him, but the Valerius name was known to him. It wouldn't be the first time they sent word by courier. Plus this man's sword was straight and proper Imperial steel, not curved like an idiot's. If the man in front of him spoke the truth, and the guardsman judged he did, the it wouldn't do for him to turn the wizard away. His Jarl would want this word no matter the hour.
"Aye, you may enter. Be warned, disrespect the law, and you disrespect me."
Jon gave a solemn nod and continued through the man door of the unassuming city gate. He didn't even bother to take in the surrounding city around him, only making out the medieval sign art that marked two inns along the main road. One was near the gate and the other was within a collection of stalls and shops further in. No one walked about at this hour except the guard and an occasional house cat.
Jon reached the steps to the second level of the city and trudged up towards the destination of his current quest. On the higher level, there were a collection of bigger, more ornate homes, and a temple of some kind. Directly in front of him were small canals, their sides covered with bushes and flowers, and a tall sickly looking tree. Its formerly white bark was a dull gray, its pink leaves hanging on desperately in the gentle breeze which assaulted it. Behind the Tree was a towering stature that Jon could only describe with one word. Talos. The last sight that Jon took in was the small clock tower erected in the well off district. It was past 0200 hours and some minutes he didn't didn't have the energy to look for.
Jon saw two more guardsman at the steps to the Jarl's palace. Not wanting to be challenged again he said, "Guardsman, I bring news of Helgan, and word from Riverwood to the Jarl. May I proceed?"
The guard eyed him for a second. "Aye, wizard. Keep your spells to yourself in the presence of the Jarl."
Jon gave a curt not and continued up the winding steps. There was a collection of reservoirs for water that fed the small canal system, a bit of life lying within. Finally coming to the top of the arduous steps, his final obstacle was a bridge to the great doors to the great keep that sat atop the rest of the city. He traversed the sturdy wooden construction. He just barley got in speaking distance when the guardsman manning the door challenged the Augment, not even letting him come close to the door.
"Halt! The Jarl does not hold court at this hour! Return to your home or inn and come back on the morrow!" The guardsman ordered. He and his partner's war-axes crossing the man-door of the keep.
The guardsman was just doing his job, but Jon had reached his absolute limit, and almost snapped completely. If he was any other Augment, he would have killed this guard. He would have killed this guard, killed his partner, and then killed anyone that saw him do it. He would have killed anyone that saw him killing anyone that saw him kill the original guards. He would have killed their friends, their families, anyone that sold them a fucking cheese wheel. He would have delivered his words to the Jarl, and then promptly killed him and his family in an imaginatively painful way. Whiterun would burn, and then he would hunt down anyone that escaped the slaughter, killing their friends family and anyone else that saw him in those acts. Skyrim would burn. All because of one guardsman simply doing their duty, and an Augment tired of being tired. Jon's labors, mental physical and metaphorical, continued.
"Guardsman." Jon said, low and slow, "I bring news of Helgan, and a call for the Jarl's aid on behalf of Lucien and Camilla Valerius of Riverwood. It is urgent I speak to him."
The guardsman eyed him for a second before saying, "Aye, you may enter. The Jarl is still taking counsel." The brewing slaughter, unknown to him, was belayed.
Jon quickly entered though the man-door of the keep and was greeted with a final couple dozen stairs to the Jarl's vast throne-room. Before making the final ascent to his destination, he pulled a couple wedges of cheese out and devoured them post-haste. After came a bottle of the nearly ice cold river water he had collected earlier in the day. The cheese gave him a last boost of energy, and the cold water shocked his system to keep him from collapsing and passing out. He felt no ill effects from his earlier libation of the raw water, even considering his disheveled state, so he assumed that exotic diseases would not be a problem for him.
Jon could hear terse debate happening above the steps, "My lord, please. You have to listen. I only counsel caution. We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these. If the rumor from Helgan is true, well there is no telling what it means."
The fact that the Jarl was holding council at this hour, seriously considering what is currently unsubstantiated rumor, and debating how best to defend the city from new potential threats only made Jon respect the Jarl and his leadership. It seemed that this keep was not an ivory tower of nobles that care only for their own ambitions, and not for the safety of the people they ruled in this fair city.
Another voice cut in, no doubt the Jarl's, "And what would you have me do Proventus? Nothing?"
Another cut in, "We should dispatch guards to Riverwood at once, my Jarl. Its the most vulnerable to a dragon lurking the mountains there."
Proventus said, "My lord, please! This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more information before we act. I just…"
Jon chose that moment to crest the stairs to the grad hall of the keep. The Jarl sat in his wooden throne, the late hour written on his face that was framed with a golden tiara. The symbol of power was set with a red gem and two darker ones on its side. His age was not advanced, but advancing all the same. The Jarl sat only slightly above his advisors, a meager two steps separating the mead hall and his platform of power. On the left stood a balding imperial in fine, but dull colored, clothes. On the right, there was a leather armored and harnessed Dark-Elve replete with war paint and Imperial steel at her side. In front of them was a roaring fire for warmth and cooking; On either side sat two long tables for grand feasts hosted by the Jarl. A look above it all and Jon's Augment blood ran cold for a moment, adrenaline powering him though his exhaustion once again. There hung the skeletal remains of a dragon, though not as big as the Worm, from the rafters. They, like Augments, weren't invincible. He paid it only a second of mind before advancing to finish the quest he was on. All eyes took to him as he came up the stairs and crossed the grand hall.
He only made it half way before the Dark-Elve drew her steel and advanced to challenge the intruder at a late hour. Her sword glowed with an energy unfamiliar to Jon, no doubt an enchantment.
She said, "Halt! What is the meaning of this interruption? The Jarl is not receiving visitors at this late hour."
Jon took a centering breath, continuing his labors, and bashed a closed fist against his chest coupled with a short bow. He said, "Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, I am Jon, of house Noonien-Singh, retired captain of the Green Berets. I bring news from Helgan, as well as official word from Riverwood."
Jon gave up on ever getting home, in that moment. As far as he was concerned, his contract had expired when he was transported to an alien world and had his ass kicked by the Worm, with Uncle Sam nowhere to be found. He might still ask about, but the Worm had his full attention now.
The Jarl paled somewhat, praying to the Nine that is wasn't too late to protect the small logging village from the rumored dragon. He Said, "Irileth, its all right. You may approach, wizard. Though I must say, I've never heard of your house or company."
Jon approached the throne and said, "They are foreign, my Jarl. I had only just arrived in Skyrim, by way of Helgan, when a dragon attacked. It was destroyed, sir. I've only personally confirmed six survivors, myself included."
The Jarl took a sharp breath. Six survivors out of the few hundred that lived there. The man in front of him had truth in his eye, and certainly looked like he got attacked by one of the fabled beasts. He Said, "What say you now Proventus, should we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon!?"
Proventus held his head low, eyes darting from place to place. He muttered, "Dragons, I don't believe it. It cant be real, it can't be…"
The Jarl continued hesitantly, "And what of Riverwood?"
Jon said, "It stands yet, Jarl Balgruuf. The merchants Lucien and Camilla Valerius beseech your aid. They request additional guards be sent to defend the town."
Relief washed over the Jarl's face now that he knew Riverwood could still be saved. He said, "Irileth! Prepare a contingent of guards at once! Send them to Riverwood immediately!" Jon's respect grew further.
Irileth gave her own salute and bow, "By your will, Jarl Balgruuf!"
Proventus' eyes shot up, "We can't! Jarl, we can't! The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as provocation! He'll assume your preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack them!"
The Jarl slammed his fist down upon his humble wooden throne in a rage, and now Jon had nothing except respect for the leader of men in front of him. The Jarl yelled, "Dammit Proventus, enough! I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"
"You," the Jarl said to the Augment, "Jon, of house Noonien-Singh, retired captain of the Green Berets. You took on the merchants' task, sought me out of you own initiative. You did so while still recovering from a dragon attack. Such deeds should be rewarded. Proventus, give this man five measure of gold."
Jon bowed his head, flaring his arms out in a sarcastic imitation of formal deference from his homeland. His honeyed words said, "My Jarl, while I would not usually, rudely, turn down a fair and just reward of coin, as I said I am a foreigner and only just arrived. I have a long trek yet to Winterhold, and would prefer a horse if such a thing is possible."
The Jarl stared off into the distance for a moment, thinking, not caring about the breech of protocol. He said, "Yes, that's possible. But you would have to preform another task for me. One I would have asked of you after you've rested anyway."
Jon bowed lower, "By your will, Jarl Bulgruuf."
The Jarl proudly said, "Good. Take your leave and rest at the Bannered Mare, in the market. Tell Hulda her Jarl sends his regards; She'll know what it means. Come back to Dragonsreach on the morrow, and speak with me when you are ready."
"Well, at least he's polite when he is being rude. I'll send word to the stables immediately, Jarl Bulgruuf. A steed will be made ready first thing on the morrow. Perhaps we should all turn in for this late evening." Proventus said.
Jon have a nod as he turned away and made his way to some goddamned, Divines-damned, cocksuking, mohterfucking sleep. He heard. "That would be best, Proventus. I'm sor-"
"It's quite alright Jarl. We are all fatigued and this has been an exciting session of council on top of it. You are absolutely right, we simply can not stand by and watch while ruination comes to Whiterun." Jon winced.
He made his way down the stairs of the hall and exited out of the man door. No guard had challenged him. He crossed the bridged and charged down the steps of the surprisingly well crafted water system. No guard had challenged him. He crossed the well off district, not even bothering to check the time. No guard had challenged him. Half jogging down the final steps into the market, still no challenge came. He stepped foot into the market district, and charged forth to his final destination of a very long four days at this point.
The challenge came from his rear, halting Jon in his tracks, "Halt! Who goes there! It is a late hour to be wandering about."
Jon's emerald eye twitched. It wouldn't stop twitching. He tilted his head to the sky and continued his labors. He said, "Jon. Noonien. Singh. I have been awake, and in battle, for nearly four days straight. I have just been ordered by the Jarl himself to take my rest at the Bannered Mare." His breath from the chilly Skyrim night right rose into the air.
It wasn't the first time the Jarl did such a thing, and the guard could see the battle-weariness at a glance. He said, "My apologies, wizard. Carry on."
Hulda was just finishing up some cleaning, before herself turning in, when the door to her inn opened, and a large Redguard in robes walked in. His eyes were bloodshot through, a crazy look in them framed by the dwindling fire. His robes were stained with blood, and his boots were dirty and covered with road dust. She heard his stomach growl.
This wasn't the first time a tired warrior came to her late in the night. She quietly said, "Hello, come in. we were just about ready to close for the night. We still have a room left too. 10 gold for the day."
Jon said, with chill in his voice, "I'll take that room. I'll also take whatever food you have left for the night. Enough for three men, if possible. The Jarl also sends his regards."
"Ah yes. Come in, come in. No gold required. If the Jarl sends his regards it means he wants you taken care of, darling. I'll make it back from him anyway." Hulda warmly said. She continued, "Psst, Saadia, come help dear."
Saadia came out from the side kitchen, and her flinch when she saw the dark Augment did not escape Jon's tired eyes. She said, "Yes Hulda, what do you need?"
"Get the man whatever food we have left, and take his robes so they can be cleaned. I'll prepare the room and turn in for the night, you can too once you're done. Can she wash your robes in the morning?" Hulda finished her orders to the Redguard woman with a question to Jon. Jon nodded in the affirmative.
"Good, have a seat by whats left of the fire, saadia will take care of you." Hulda said and made way to the now rented room.
Jon took his seat and stared at the warm dying embers. He gave a light chuckle as the metaphor was not lost on him. His old life was dying. He was stuck here, stranded, on an alien word by unknown means, far from everyone and everything he ever knew. He would adapt, he would survive, he would overcome as his genetic ancestors had done for two million years before they ever discovered their own genome. He would redeem his 'house' and name, and in this new world he would advance Augment-kind in ways that no other could ever hope to achieve. Not even Khan, the Bastard. And finally, he would kill that fucking Worm for what it did to that innocent town, just like he slaughtered his own kind by the hundreds for their crimes against nature. Jon the Butcher quickly ate five men's worth of food and turned in for his first sleep in half a week. Saadia never met his eye, but he told her to wake him by noon all the same.
"Did you hear that, Master Einarth? As Alduin issued his challenge?" The sage Master Einarth nodded in the affirmative.
"Then he must come." Master Arngeir said; He hadn't completed the Way of The Voice so he could speak for the graybeards.
"Dovahkiin." the Master Einarth whispered. The halls of High Hrothgar shook in response.
"Will it be enough, Master Einarth? Can one man stand against the might of Alduin and his legions, even if he was blessed by Akatosh?"
Master Einarth shrugged with a particular look on his face, and Master Arngeir said, "You are correct my friend, we must meet him to make judgment. But first he must prove his blessings in the presence of man and the Divines. History calls to him. Will he answer?"
Arngeir took a slow sharp breath, a warm thought grazing his mind. The presence of the Divine. The man had already answered the hero's call from the moment he saw the World Eater. The Dragonborn comes.