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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-201-09-26 04:17
Vernim Wood Inn, Vernim Wood, Eastmarch, Skyrim
I wake up before sunrise. This gives me an opportunity to work on our gear without the blacksmith getting in my way and people distracting me with their chatter.
Yesterday we saw a dead man on the main thoroughfare, and now I'm seeing one on the street near the smithy. What's been going on here? There's no one to ask, as the guards don't want to say anything and in fact eye me rather suspiciously. Which may be precisely because of those unknown events that have produced the aforementioned dead bodies.
So I start working. Suddenly two cutthroats appear as if out of nowhere and attack me. With my followers still sleeping peacefully in our room at the inn, I have to rely on the help of the guards only.
Well, earlier, the town seemed full of them, but now there's not a guard in sight. So I'm on my own. I land a lucky death blow on one attacker, but the second one is really tough and I survive only thanks to health potions. It was a really close shave.
On one of the dead bandits, I find a note which reveals that they were sent by the people of Outcast Valley to hunt me down. Evidently, some of them didn't appreciate my killing their tyrant. Fine, now we can say we're even.
I have just a little time to wait until the shops open. After I've sold everything superfluous, we're off to the west again in cheerful sunny weather. The road is at great elevation and the views to that hot springs area where we were yesterday are marvelous. Even more scenic are the waterfalls in a place further west where the road will turn north towards Darkwater and Fort Amol:
There's a bridge over the river (you can partially see it in the picture above) and no sign of any missing person. We go along the road a little farther to the north where we can turn left and take a path uphill towards the source of the waterfalls. However, we fail to find anything and I'm getting extremely frustrated. I just hate being in the dark (figuratively speaking) like this, having to find something on mountainous terrain where you spend most of your energy on merely finding a route across yet another mountain and when you've finally found it, you look at the map and see that you've actually ended up going in a wrong direction. Things like that. The girls see my irritable mood and run behind me on tiptoes.
We go a fair distance southwards and end up in a village called Nimalten:
I like Nimalten. The sight of people around me going about their daily business makes me feel calm and safe. I take off my helmet and walk around and exchange a few words with a number of villagers. Turns out Nimalten is being built. There's no shop here yet and not even a pub, for which vital need men have to walk to Ivarsted further south.
That's where we'll go too. Realizing that we've digressed so far south that Ivarsted (in the ancient times spelt "Ivarstead") is actually quite near, I figure we'd better skip that relatively unimportant quest in the mountains and head straight for the possible location of Aetherium Forge south of Ivarsted. On our way there, since we're already in this region, we'll drop by High Hrothgar. Has to be done sometime. You may remember, that's the holy place where I'm supposed to go, summoned by that elusive and mysterious order of Greybeards – or Gaybores, as Bardslayer calls them. He doesn't seem to have a very high opinion of them.
As a matter of fact, Bardslayer has informed me that the Gaybores' quest as such is pointless, but I still have to do it for one reason – since the Gaybores are revered by the Nords to the extreme, they are the only force capable of ending this unfortunate war that is ravaging Skyrim day in, day out. They hold themselves for so spiritual that it won't be easy to convince them to get involved in a matter as mundane as this, but I must at least try. That's why I'm going to heed the Gaybores' summons and go to High Hrothgar.
A quick bath in a nearby river, and a quarter of an hour later we're in the village of Ivarsted.
The young woman over there is called Fastred. She yearns to get away from this boring place.
She's in love with a certain Bassianus who has promised to take her away to great adventures one day.
Fastred's parents will have none of it, though. To them, she's a child utterly incapable of thinking for herself.
She's in love with a certain Bassianus who has promised to take her away to great adventures one day.
Fastred's parents will have none of it, though. To them, she's a child utterly incapable of thinking for herself.
We chat with a few people on the street and pay a quick visit to the inn. Maybe I should have postponed the inn for later. The dusk is falling when we finally come out again and begin our journey up the mountains.
Next to the trees on the right edge goes a path downhill towards Nimalten. That's where we came from earlier today.
To the left of us is a bridge across the river. This is where we'll be going right now.
To the left of us is a bridge across the river. This is where we'll be going right now.
There's a staircase commonly referred to as 7000 steps that leads from Ivarsted to High Hrothgar. Actually, a part of the path is stone steps and a part is just earth, so I wouldn't have even a vague idea how many steps there actually are. All I can confirm is that the windy path up the mountain is very long, although quite comfortable for running. By the way, the people of Ivarsted tell a tale about a Khajiit traveler who actually endeavored to count all the steps. As to what became of him, various people's versions differ widely.
As we get higher, the grass is replaced by the snow. Outside of some spider caves where we've been in the past, this is one of the most joyless places imaginable. Nobody lives here except snowtrolls and we kill even those because they wouldn't let us pass otherwise.
No, actually there are some goats as well, and they don't bother us. Anyway, soon the sun goes down and there's only moonlight reflected by the snow. The weather is quite horrid.
It's not easy to discourage pilgrims, though:
This is not the Dånstar bard. It's another woman with the same name.
In the castle that is at the end of the stairs, I have to search around for a long time before finding anyone who would talk to me. Saving the world, or for whichever other reason they summoned me by this Skyrim-wide thunder message, doesn't seem to be high on the Gaybores' priority list.
As we find out, the castle is inhabited by a group of old men in hooded cloaks. Their leader (of sorts) Arngeir holds me a solemn sermon. I spare you the details, especially because most of it goes through one of my ears and out the other. I mean, many Nords would probably be painfully shocked if they heard me talk like that, but the thing is, when someone walks up to me and says: "I have figured out a purpose for your life; now pay attention, I'll tell you what you need to do..." then this is precisely the degree of respect he'll get from me. A man needs first to demonstrate that he has the kind of personality that I can deeply respect and admire, and then I'll become receptive, indeed eager to prove I'm worthy of him. With people like the Gaybores, I'm just waiting for an opportunity to take my leave without being outright rude.
That said, they paint glowing runes onto the floor to teach me two new shouts (more precisely, one shout and an existing shout's upgrade) and that's kind of cool, even when the shouts aren't too useful.
One part of the training takes place in the back yard.
But all that blabber about understanding the way of the Voice and staying true to the genuine I-don't-know-what... Give me a break, really! I walk up to the glowing symbols and then I have the shout and can use it. What is there to understand and what's it supposed to have to do with my lifestyle? All right, maybe it's not so easy for you, but that is not my fault. I didn't exactly ask to be born with this "gift". I'd much rather have my memory back.
I'm relieved that Lydia is cool about my attitude. She's not much for religion either. She prefers things you can actually see and touch. We are very similar in this respect. As to my occasional sarcastic comments, she tells me playfully that I'll get it all back when we visit Breton territory.
I'm dog-tired by the time the Gaybores finally let me go – with the sacred mission to retrieve something called Jurgen Windcaller's Horn from a place called Ustengrav northeast of Morthal. It takes almost two hours to get back to Ivarsted and then I'm stopped by two sturdy men who wear masks that look like something between a pig and a devil. They ask me if I'm the one called Dragonborn.
Mr. Pigmask, do you have any idea how tired I am? No, he just goes on about some Lord Miraak and how they're going to kill me to prove I'm not really Dragonborn. Look, can you just kill the Dragonborn in me and leave the rest alive? Where are my followers anyway? Oh, they're right behind me. And two village guards observing the situation nearby. Yet, the Pigmasks won't leave me alone. Maybe I shouldn't have told them I was tired? Might have made them think I was an easy target. I'm not, in fact. They are. After that's taken care of, at almost 4 o'clock in the morning, I can finally get some sleep.
next awakening
