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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
4-201-10-15 01:53
Ysolda's House, Hviterun, Whiterun, Skyrim
Ysolda wakes up while I get dressed. I kiss her and tell her to go back to sleep. I'll be fine.
After a token breakfast, I go out and set to work. I've told you I like to do my crafting at night when no one is distracting me.
It's for some time now that we haven't looted any really cool gear. It's still good money and I'm looking forward to the day when I can afford to buy us a house in Solitud, but we really could use better armor, and yesterday's sad experience brought that point home in a most painful way. Fortunately at least, our weapons are really efficient.
The city is waking up. The preacher Heimskr is already at work between the statue of Talos and the holy tree Gildergreen.
I've still no idea what might happen to me when Rayya's death really hits me, and when it's going to happen, but in my current state of icy calmness I come up with the idea to kill a hundred forns as revenge for Rayya. Just hunt them like other hunters hunt animals. They are animals.
I've been feeling compassion for the forns because, firstly, they are Bretons (in a way), and secondly, they are fighting for the freedom of their country. But now I'm going to have no mercy. The gloves are off. Wait, what did I just say? What kind of an expression is it – "the gloves are off"? Where did I get that from? It's very stupid to take your gloves (or gauntlets) off when you're fighting. They give you protection. Well, never mind. As I was saying, I no longer care who – Bretons or Nords – are in the right and who are in the wrong and who was in The Reach first. All I care about is that the forns have killed one of people closest to me, so I'm going to arrange a genocide among them as revenge. I mean, we can really go, like, forn-hunting – travel back and forth in The Reach without any specific goal, and just seek out forns and kill them. Or maybe that'll get boring and we'd better do several smaller trips, slaying 10 or 20 forns on each tour?
I'll give it some thought, but I still want to do the Dark Brotherhood first.
After I've re-hired Jenassa as my active follower, we leave the city. We have a choice – either bypass Lake Ilinalta from the east or from the west. I choose the easterly route, passing through Riverwood, where we can coincidentally check out that mysterious man who snatched Jurgen Windcaller's Horn.
It's a sunny morning and the mountains around Hviterun are as pretty as ever. The most impressive is, of course, the one in the east on top of which lies High Hrothgar:
It may not be evident, but people assure me it's utterly impossible to climb up from this side.
The only known route to High Hrothgar goes through Ivarsted in the southeast.
The only known route to High Hrothgar goes through Ivarsted in the southeast.
Running to the east, towards the main intersection, it occurs to me to take a look in the Honningbrew Meadery. Maybe that mean insulting jerk August is there.
I tell my followers to wait outside and go in. August is there all right, along with the owner Sabjorn and one scary-looking man. There is nowhere to go sneaking where no one would notice me. So I just pull out my bow in plain view and aim it at August. He jumps up. I shoot and hit his belly. He falls on the floor, groaning. Seeing that the other two men show no interest in interfering, I walk up to the scumbag, grab his head by the hair, look into his eyes and slowly slit his throat.
On August's body, I find a letter suggesting that he was in the service of a man Juvenal. The latter's associate Brutus is informing August that Juvenal wants Mendrel eliminated. That's the fledgling we met at Fort Greenwall.
I don't particularly care about any of that. I'm more concerned with minimizing the trouble potentially resulting from the murder I just committed.
I look around and catch the eyes of Sabjorn. I don't really know what to say. "Sorry about the mess." I point at the blood on the floor.
He shrugs. "Shit happens, I guess. I'd appreciate if you didn't make a habit of it."
I have to smile. "I won't. Thanks."
He gives a sign to the other man and they approach, evidently to drag the corpse away. They don't look like intending to report me to the guards. I mumble "Goodbye," and leave.
On the bright side, I get a nice picture of that adorable butterfly.
When I tell my followers what I just did, they ask me if I'm crazy. Why did I put myself in danger and left my followers outside instead of letting them do their job?
I really don't have an answer. Maybe my brain isn't working clearly yet. Let's just move on, okay?
Arriving in Riverwood, I go to the inn and tell Delphine that I'd like to rent the attic room. She says they don't have an attic room, but I can have one of the others. Fine. So what's going to happen now? I go to the room and wait. After a while, Delphine comes in and says I must be the Dragonborn. She gives me Jurgen Windcaller's Horn and asks me to follow her. "That mysterious man" turns out to be not a man at all. I shouldn't be surprised, after seeing her in the Hviterun palace with Farengar.
We go into the big bedroom and Delphine opens a secret panel in the back of a cupboard. She asks me to close the door to the taproom. Then we go down the stairs into a big room in the basement. Delphine says she won't believe I'm Dragonborn simply because the Gaybores say so. I don't like her haughty attitude, so I walk out again.
I notice I have picked up a book about dragons. It says dragons are not born ot hatched, they don't mate or breed, and there are no known examples of dragon eggs. That's not true, because I've seen quite a few dragon eggs. I'm not going to try and hatch one, but they do exist:
It's not like it's important. If there'll never be any more dragons born, I'll be only too happy. And that book was obviously written by someone who had never actually seen a dragon. He was just repeating old tales.
I walk around in the village and talk to a couple of people. Then I think that maybe I'm being too harsh on Delphine. She may have a good reason to be afraid of something. Just look at her slender stature. And she gave me the horn I needed for the Gaybores. I decide to forgive her and hear her out.
I return to the inn. But instead of saying what it is she wants from me, she goes on with her haughty speech of how I may be Dragonborn or may be not, and how she needs to make sure she can trust me first. It's not like being Dragonborn it's awfully important to me, but I just can't stomach her attitude. I can't believe she went through all that effort (to say nothing of danger) just to get a chance to belittle me. With all the grace I can muster, I refrain from spitting in her eye. As I walk out the second time, she's like "You will return, I know you will."
I'm seething. There's hardly anything in the world I hate more than people who pompously tell me they know what I'm going to do. I'm done with that bitch for good. The whole world can go under before I set foot in that basement again.
Now me and my followers head west to destroy the Dark Brotherhood. I decide to go directly through the forest for a change, instead of the road. We end up attacked by a few bandits and wolves, as well as ascend a mysterious-looking staircase:
It leads to nothing except a beautiful view:
We bypass the villages on the southern shore of Lake Ilinalta, but Falkert lies directly in our path and when we arrive there at 7 o'clock in the evening under a pouring rain, I decide we'll spend the night here and go to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary early in the morning.
next awakening
