Aedric the Hunter - Chapter 9: The Ascent

  • 25th of Last Seed 4E201

    It was early in the morning when I awoke and Sylgja was already preparing our morning meal. While we ate, I discussed the events of the previous day with her. She was most impressed with my tale, and I could tell by the look on her face it would be making the rounds of Shor’s Stone as well. “You and mother always have tales of all these fantastic adventures... and I’m stuck working the mines,” she said, glumly. I placed my hand on her shoulder. “It takes a strong arm to bring ore from stone. Perhaps I could teach you a thing or two sometime.” Her face lit back up. “I’d like that.” I produced the silver emerald necklace I found the previous day and handed it to her. “I got this for you. It improves the rate at which your body naturally heals; your leg should be back to its best in no time!” She took at and marvelled at the craftsmanship. “Where did you get this?” “I found it in a bandit’s stash. I don’t think the original owner will be around to claim it, even if I could find them.” She smiled and put it around her neck. “Thank you, Aedric.” “Well,” I said, rising from my chair, “I’d best be off. I’m making the climb to High Hrothgar today.” “Important Dragonborn business, I assume?” Slygja said slyly. “You bet,” I replied as I made my way out the door.

    I made a quick trip back to Riften to retrieve my horse sell off my loot, getting around 2000 more gold in the process. As I was leaving I spotted a priest being forcibly ejected from the Bee and Barb. I approached him. “Drunken louts at the inn giving you trouble?” “No, the people of Riften that spend their coin in that den of iniquity drinking their vile liquid don’t understand the chaos they’ve sown in the world, and won’t embrace the love of Mara!” He was somewhat right, if a bit overzealous. “Oh, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Maramal, the head priest of Mara here in Riften. I conduct the wedding ceremonies on almost a daily basis.” “The name’s Aedric. Could I have my wedding here?” “Of course, assuming you and your fiancée and ready. Come to the temple and see me if you wish to do so.” I nodded to myself. “Thank you. I’ll consider your offer.” “Good day to you, Aedric.” I took my leave of the priest and retrieved my steed, and began riding north-west towards Ivarstead.

    The first half of the journey was fairly uneventful, only stopping to take down a couple of wolves and spiders that emerged from the woods to attack us. I spotted Faldar’s Tooth off to my left, and as I gazed up to the highest tower it brought shivers to my spine. I’d been so used to sweeping across everything in my path with relative ease – including the dragons. Yet that Redguard man hit me within an inch of my life; I would’ve died there if not for my Voice. But the thought was shattered as I emerged into a clearing and was surrounded by a group of wolves, deer and spiders. Why weren’t the attacking each other? Why weren’t the deer fleeing? Then I noticed the light green glow in their eyes. Something wasn’t right here. Just at that moment two Spriggans appeared behind the beasts, and they all began to advance on me. I shot down several of the beasts and swept aside the rest with ease, and the Spriggans were upon me.

    I shouted “YOL!” as a wave of flame spread from my lips, setting the wooden carapace of the tree-spirits alight. They recoiled in pain, shrieking, and I advanced one them with my blade. Their hardened ‘skin’ gave way under the elven blade far more easily than a steel one, which I had faced them with last time. I downed a potion to increase my resistance to their poisonous claws, and struck down one with a few swings. I didn’t have time to finish it, however, as I caught the claw of the other on my blade, and I threw it to the side. The opening allowed me to strike at its neck, and my sword bit deep into it. I pulled the weapon out and impaled it through the chest, and finished it off with an overhead strike before it could regenerate. The other one raked my chest, creating a series of light gashes. The saplike poison didn’t seep into my flesh; the potion had done its job.  I dispatched it without further injury before continuing on to Ivarstead.

    By the side of the road I encountered a group of men drinking, singing and laughing. As I rode by them one of them spoke up. “Hail, traveller! Care to share some Honningbrew Mead with us?” I wasn’t too fussy about my mead – I didn’t necessarily prefer Honningbrew or Black-Briar. Honningbrew had a sweeter taste but Black-Briar was stronger. I produced another bottle of Honningbrew from my pack. “Why have one when you can have two?” We all laughed. I dismounted and joined the revelers for a time; it was still before noon and it wasn’t far to Ivarstead. Before I left them the man that first approached me handed me a gold amulet. “Hehe, *hic*, may it always bring *hic* good fortune to you, traveller!” I bid them farewell before continuing my journey. The woods around Ivarstead were teeming with deer; perhaps I would come back here to hunt someday. Ivarstead was a quiet town, a bit like Riverwood. It had a small farm, an inn and a mill – that was about it. I ate my midday meal in the Vilemyr inn. The bartender, Wilhelm, told me about the supposedly haunted barrow near town. Alot of it seemed like fanciful superstition but I thought there was some truth to it. I decided to investigate someday, but today the Greybeards and High Hrothgar awaited me.

    I began the climb up the tallest mountain in Tamriel in the early afternoon. I’d came here several years ago with my parents but they only managed to get up to the second emblem. I don’t blame them; from what I hear it is an extremely long climb, even if I had never gone the whole way myself. I came to the first emblem not a minute up the path. They told of the history of Skyrim, dragons and the Greybeards, something I thought might be quite useful in the coming weeks. The first read “Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all of Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.” I made my way to the second emblem without incident, gathering some of the reagents scattered around the path. This one told of the birth of Men, and their domination by the dragons. I spotted the third up ahead, but I also spotted a snowy Sabertooth cat sitting in front of it. The woodland ones were quite ferocious, and I had only heard that the ones in the snowy regions of Skyrim were tougher. I carefully moved into the shadows and poised myself for a shot of my bow. As the beast roared in pain, searching for its assailant, I loosed another shot. It began to charge and I managed another two, but not before it pounced, tearing into my flesh. I punched it on the muzzle before pulling my sword and delivering the final blow. The wounds were already bleeding profusely, and I carefully weaved healing magic around them to bring the flesh back together. It was difficult to focus with such painful wounds but I closed them within a few minutes. I was jealous of the skill of some of the Temple healers; some of them I’d seen heal men from the brink of death in an instant. But I digress. The third emblem told of the first war between Men and Dragons, and of the dragons’ mastery of Shouts to defeat them. After reading the fourth, which told of Kyne and Paarthurnax teaching men to Shout, I encountered a strange creature on the slopes of the mountain. It appeared to be an Ice Wraith – a floating, skeletal-like serpent made of ice. Of course I’d heard the tales but never actually seen one myself. I hadn’t yet been spotted so I fired an arrow, but it whizzed between the sections of its tail, missing it by centimetres. This seemed to aggravate it, and I began moving towards me. “YOL!” another wave of flame burst from my mouth, melting off part of its body. This was quickly becoming my favourite shout, and I wondered if there was a way to make it more powerful. But this was the time for battle, and the wraith was drawing near. It was about 10 metres away, and it dove towards the ground, rising up in a lunge towards me, creating a line of jagged spikes of ice in its path. Its jagged body rubbed against my arm, and one of the spikes grazed my left leg. Regretting not having made a frost resistance potion, I drew my sword and held it out in front of me, as if to ward it off. It made several jabbing attacks, trying to get past my guard, before I managed to land a blow on the side of what appeared to be its head. I shaved off about a quarter of it and it somersaulted backwards, preparing for another lunge at the gap in my defence. Before it could strike however I shouted again. “YOL!” This time, it exploded into a thousand shards of ice, and I shielded my eyes from the barrage. When I lowered my hand all that was left was a set of teeth and a glowing blue residue at my feet. I scooped some of the residue into a phial and placed the teeth in my pack of reagents, before continuing up the path.

    The next few emblems told of the defeat of the Dragons by Men and their Voices, and how Jurgen Windcaller, first of the Greybeards, began his Seven Year Meditation. I was nearing the monastery and the last three emblems as I spotted a white-furred troll sitting on a rocky overhang above the path, chewing on a bone. Trolls are fearsome creatures on their own, and the snowy ones are, once again, far tougher. I attempted to sneak under the ledge, out of its line of sight. Just as I was about to emerge, it dropped down in front of me, shaking the ground beneath my fight. It rose its massive arms and uttered a terrible roar before swinging wildly in my direction. I barely had time to draw my sword before its first strike hit me aside. I was out of the way of the other two, and it roared again as I came to my feet. I made thrusts against its thick, matted fur, some of them getting caught and others penetrating the beast’s thick hide. I managed a slice along its chest before it brought down another arm on me, sending me staggering backwards. It began to charge again, and I shouted “FUS!” stopping it in its tracks. I closed the distance before it could right itself, and struck it across the face with a spinning slash, send it roaring to the ground, blood spurting from the wound.

    I recovered some of the fat from its body for Atub, not forgetting her request.

    After the final three emblems about the Greybeards and Tiber Septim, I finally reached the monastery. I entered through the massive, ironbound doors into a large room, lined by braziers and statues, where I was approached by 4 bearded men wearing hooded grey robes. The one in the centre spoke. “So, a Dragonborn appears, at this time in the turning of the age.” I had heard that the Greybeards could not speak normally – they could only speak in the Dragon tongue, which would blast lesser men to pieces. Then again, I wasn’t really sure how I’d communicate with them at all. “I’ve come to answer your summons.” The old man replied, “Let us see if you are truly Dragonborn. Show us, let us taste of your Voice.” I drew in breath and Shouted. “FUS!” They seemed quite taken aback by my Shout, and the man spoke again. “Dragonborn! It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir, and I speak for the Greybeards.” That would explain it. “Now tell us Dragonborn, why have you come here?”  “I want to know what it means to be Dragonborn, and harness that power to defeat the Dragons.” “Well we are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as we have those of the Dragon blood before you. Are you ready to learn more about the Voice?” “Aye, I am.” “You have shown you are Dragonborn; you have the inborn gift to Shout. But do you have the discipline to learn and master new Shouts?” He began pacing around the room, the other Greybeards watching on.  “When you shout, you speak in the language of Dragons. Shouting is about focusing your vital essence into Words of Power, which your Dragon Blood gives you the inborn ability to understand.” The pieces of my story were beginning to come together. “Each Shout contains three Words of Power, each making it progressively stronger. Master Einharth will teach you the second word of Unrelenting Force, the first of which you have already demonstrated to us.” The man to Arngeir’s right stepped forward. He said softly, “Ro.” Some symbols in the Dragon Language appeared on the floor, and I began to understand them. Arngeir spoke again. “Ro means Balance in the Dragon Tongue. Use it with Fus, Force, to focus your shout more sharply.” I nodded to Einharth as I understood the word. “Master Einharth will now let you tap in to his understanding of Ro. Normally we learn shouts through constant practice, but as Dragonborn you can absorb a dragon’s knowledge of the word directly.” Streams of energy flowed out of Einharth, as if I was absorbing part of his soul. I practiced using both words of the Shout on some apparitions the Greybeards created with their Voices, meeting the challenge with success. “We will perform your next trial in the courtyard. Follow Master Borri.” I followed one of the other Greybeards through the large doors on the other side of the monastery, into a large open courtyard overlooking the western side of the mountain. “We will now see how you master a completely new Shout.” We went through a similar process as before, but this time I learned ‘Wuld,’ which meant ‘Whirlwind.’ The Greybeards had me stand about 15 metres from a large gate, and to test my new Shout had me attempt to get through within 2 seconds, something unattainable by simply running through. The Shout carried me through with the speed of a tempest, and I passed their trial with ease. Arngeir spoke to me again. “Your quick mastery of the Thu’um is astonishing. I had heard of the abilities of Dragonborn but to see it for myself...” “Thank you, Master Arngeir. What is my next trial?” “You are now ready for our final test.  Retrieve the Horn of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller, from his tomb in Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return.” He dismissed me from the monastery – it was already in the twilight hours and I needed to find someplace to rest anyhow. I came to a rocky outcrop on the side of the mountain, and recognised Bleak Falls Barrow on the mountain opposite me, and looked down to find Riverwood below.

    It was late by the time I finished my descent and reached Riverwood. It felt like a home away from home, after doing so much for the town and getting to know the people. There were guards keeping watch over the skies as I entered the town and headed for the inn. As I opened the door it went completely silent; Alvor, Orgnar, Sven, Camilla, and Lucan were all staring at me. I gave a quick wave. “Hi.” Everyone rose from their places with quite a ruckus, as I was welcomed back as kin with much embracing. It seemed I’d become a hero of sorts in Riverwood; stories of what happened in Riverwood and Whiterun had obviously travelled back and forth. The townspeople brought chairs around the hearth as I told of what had happened since I left. It seemed Sven was taking notes, perhaps for another tale or song of his. I decided not to leave out the parts about the Thieves Guild, but they didn’t seem too fussed about me being a member of a group of organised criminals. “Hey, Aedric’s a good man. He’d never take something from someone who needed it.” I think that statement has become a sort of motto for me by now. Hadvar was noticibly absent, and Alvor told me that he had headed back to Solitude to report in with the Legion. Perhaps I should too, Ustengrav is up that way too. But Mercer will no doubt be expecting me to take another job soon. I insisted on paying for a room – Riverwood got little enough business as it was, and they didn’t need to offer their services for free. The innkeeper, Delphine, seemed most intrigued and very inquisitive about my story. The Elven dagger belted to her waist was still there – who was she? And why is she so interested in the Dragonborn?

     

    Several paths now lie open to Aedric. Should he:

    1. Return to Riften for more work
    2. Travel to Solitude to (re)join the Legion and go to Ustengrav
    3. Other

    Let me know in your comment!

    Next chapter is up. Read it here

Comments

4 Comments
  • Ponty
    Ponty   ·  February 6, 2012
    Thanks all :D To Solitude it is!
    Also, I'm going to make a PDF book-style thing using the cover I made for the first 10 chapters that will be released with the next chapter :D
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  February 5, 2012
    Aedric is ever the alchemist, and I like that you do not forget to include that detail in your writing!
    I like the legion option, too...it will be great to see his reunion with Hadvar, and see what Aedric thinks of all that.  Internal conflict?  Alw...  more
  • Ponty
    Ponty   ·  February 5, 2012
    Thanks guys :D
    But Bilal, where do I go next?
  • Guy Corbett
    Guy Corbett   ·  February 5, 2012
    Great post ponty your fights are getting better n better. I like that he is revelling in his new found fame and piety this is turning out to be a classic tale Im enjoying it alot.
    No. 1 get some more work from riften. I like the clash of good dragon...  more