Dragon of the East - Arc 2, Chapter 4

  • Reinhardt

    ~ ~ ~

    Ahhh! You know what’s better than traveling? Traveling when the weather’s fair! No clouds, no rain, just the wind and the sun on your skin. Life’s simple pleasures.

    I was off on the road to Whiterun. Word came to Riverwood that the city got attacked by a dragon. They managed to kill it, thank the gods. Couldn’t bear the thought of another settlement getting burned to the ground. I went to investigate the aftermath. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn something that’d help me make more sense of Helgen. My return to Cyrodiil would stay on hold for a while.

    Carrying the sack of my family’s old belongings like a peddler, I followed the roads and river brook that lead to the city gates. Couldn’t have asked for a better morning! Blue butterflies fluttered over flowers and tundra cotton. Sweet scents of mead and honey drifted in the air from a brewery. In the distance a windmill spun gently, looming over a quiet vegetable farm. Two workers were out in the fields, running for their lives from a raging giant.

    A giant.

    “Shore’s bones!!” I startled.

    It was tearing up the farm with a massive club, wrecking crops, barrels and animal pens! Couldn’t tell if the day’d gotten worse or better. I dropped my bag and ran to the scene. The gangly brute must’ve been eight feet tall, with a thick mangy beard and crude garbs of mammoth fur. A pair of guards led the farmers to safety and hunkered behind a brick fence, aged to the point where it sunk into the ground.

    One of the guards started off for the city. I crouched down beside the other who stayed.

    “Damn! Never seen a giant throw a tantrum before!” I exclaimed, glancing at the guard. “You?”

    He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes hidden behind a helm of steel.

    “Are you here to help, kinsman?” he asked.

    “No, I’m fleeing for my life.”

    The man didn’t care for my sarcasm.

    “I won’t turn down an extra blade,” he said. “We just have to wait for Rolf and the rest of the south wall guard...”

    “Waiting? Who has time for waiting?” I retorted. “That farm is somebody’s livelihood! Somebody’s home!”

    “It’ll take more than two men to save it.”

    “Come on, don’t be a milk drinker,” I scoffed, slapping the guard on his back. “It’s one giant. We can distract him till help arrives – keep the crops and animals safe!”

    “I nearly died fighting a dragon, kinsman! I’m not dying for a field of cabbage!”

    I frowned at the guard. “Well I’m going. You gonna sit here while a brother Nord fights the giant alone?”

    Hearing that, the man swore under his breath and brought a longbow to bear. I knew he’d come around. No son of Skyrim backs down from a fight. I vaulted over the wall and drew my greatsword.

    “Woah, hold on there!” the guard exclaimed, seeing Angi’s bow on my back. “What’s the matter? You got no arrows!?”

    “I’ve got this,” I said, gripping my weapon. “That’s all I need. You handle the archery. I’ll give him something to swing at.”

    “That sounds like a really bad idea!” 

    “Oh, trust me,” I replied with a smirk, “I always have bad ideas.”                     

    I rushed out into the open field. The guard stayed behind, taking aim. That giant was tearing up a coop of chickens, sending wood, straw, and feathers flying everywhere. The guard loosed an arrow. It landed square in the giant’s back. He grunted, glaring over his shoulder.

    “Yeah, that’s right!” I goaded, waving the giant to me. “Come here! Try and break this, you big ugly bastard!”

    The giant stretched out a long, low grumble. He slowly wound up a tempo of steps, tramping toward me with gaping leaps, club raised overhead. I swear to you the ground shook with every stride it made.

    Ho boy, I thought to myself, he looks a lot bigger up close…

    The fiend swung down hard to the ground, throwing up dirt as I dodged out of the way. The force behind that club could’ve easily crushed the bones in my body. No chance I’d block any blows in this fight. An arrow flew and struck the giant in his chest. That was two hits. Didn’t look like they fazed him much, though. A third arrow whizzed by my ear, making me flinch as it narrowly missed my head and sunk into the giant’s arm.

    Hey!! Aim for the giant, not me!” I hollered back. “You trying to – woah!!”

    A massive palm swung to knock me over. I ducked a hair’s width under it and gambled a thrust, jabbing the tip of my blade into the giant’s chest. It grunted in pain and backed away. I recovered my footing, laughing in the face of near death.

    “Hahaha! You like dancing close to the fire!?”

    The guard landed another hit on the giant’s collar. It’s body was bristled with about a half dozen arrows. Damn hardy, that one. It looked enraged, ignoring any pain it felt. I think it knew it was going to die. No deadlier foe than one who’s backed into a corner.

    The giant started swinging with vigor, which left me hopping around like a rabbit. You know how hard it is to keep your feet fast in steel plates? I clenched my jaws, trying to find a way into the giant’s space without getting flattened. Another arrow punctured its chest. Only it wasn’t from the guard. I looked behind me. A pair of warriors had come to join the fight.

    “What are you waiting for!?” a woman called out, lowering her bow. “The legs! Go for its legs!”

    “What?” I stammered, looking back at the giant’s boney lower limbs. They were tall and slender, like birch trees waiting for the woodcutting axe. “Oh! The legs, got it! Good plan!”

    But how was I supposed to get close?

    Well, turns out that was the easy part. A burly dark haired man wielding a greatsword of his own rushed the giant. He was a big guy, bigger than me. I followed his lead. The two of us circled about at different angles. If the giant struck at one, the other had an opening. The fiend couldn’t fend us both off. It was big and strong but slow on the draw. I waited for the giant to lash at the man and charged. With a powerful two-handed swing I slammed my blade into the back of its leg, cleaving half-way through the bone. The giant dropped to its knees with a heavy thud.

    And that was that. The burly man brought down his sword and sliced the giant’s head clean off, execution style. Its headless corpse slumped in a heap. I heaved out a breath, heart still pounding from the thrill of the fight, and grinned at the man who fought beside me. He grinned back. Seemed like one of those strong silent types.

    “Well met! Glad you both could join the fun.” I rubbed my sore ankle. “Augh… Can’t say I make a habit of frisking with giants.”

    “They’re best fought from a distance, you know,” the woman from before said to us both as she came near.

    Trolls blood, but that voice sounds…

    I craned to the side and gawped.

    …attractive!

    Rich auburn hair. Fierce, grey eyes. A prime physique. Gods, who was this!? A woman after Shor’s own heart? I was smitten. She looked as fierce as she was beautiful. Sure, she had a masculine air to her features; a chiseled jawline, rough skin. But the way she carried herself, graceful and confident… That’s more captivating than any soft face.

    “Were you hoping to bring down a giant all by yourself?” she asked me.

    “Ha… ah, not really,” I said, wiping my brow, “but I sure wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to fight one!”

    “Oh, I’m not criticizing. I would have done the same,” she replied. “Glory only awaits those who triumph.”

    “Aye. The best victories are always hard fought.” A grin widened on my face. “Sounds like you don’t settle for small game.”

    Her expression became emotionless.

    “Depends on the prey,” she replied, “I find often that size rarely matters.”

    I walked right into that one.

    The woman’s eyes glossed over me before fixing on something rested at my side. I tried to follow her line of sight. What was she looking at? My hand?

    The ring of Hircine?                                                                                

    “Hey, so uh… who are you all anyway?” I blurted, burying the ring in my folded arms. “You with the Jarl’s guard?”

    Speaking of guards, the one who helped me fight the giant came to address the woman.

    “Hail, Companions!” he greeted, raising a fist to his heart, “I knew Rolf would send for aid. Didn’t think I was worth a rescue from you, though.”

    “Think nothing of it. We go where the hunt is,” she said. “Those soft guts wouldn’t have been much help to you.”

    “Wait a minute… Companions?” I startled, eyes darting between the two warriors. “The Companions!?”

    The woman looked at me. “Heard of us, eh?”      

    Heard of you!? You’re the warriors of Ysgramor! Gods, I completely forgot! I’m in Whiterun!”

    That meant the home of Jorrvaskr, the Companions’ mead hall. When I was a lad, my ma would tell stories about the Companions. All the nights I’d beg her for one more song or battle…

    I grew up on tales of men like Skjor, Kodlak, and Askar the Harbinger. True warriors of valor. Their traditions stretch back to the days of Skyrim’s first settlers from the continent of Atmora. The Companions are to Skyrim what knights are to Cyrodiil. The stuff of boyhood dreams and true life legend.

    Ysmir’s beard! I’d fought alongside the Companions! Against a giant! For as old as I was, the child in me whooped with excitement, wishing he could run home to tell his mother what he’d done.

    “I take it you’re not an outsider?” the woman remarked with curiosity. I was falling head over heels for that voice of hers. She hadn’t smiled even once, though. I started wondering if she could.

    “Nope,” I avowed, chin held high. “I’m as Nordly as a Nord can get. Just been… traveling around. First time I’ve come back to Skyrim in years.”

    “Looks like you’re getting a proper welcome, then. I hope the rest of your travels will be as fulfilling,” she replied, turning to her comrade. “Come on, Farkas. The Jarl’s men can clean this mess.”

    She set off to leave. That’s when the burly man spoke up.

    “Aela, wait,” Farkas said, turning to me. “What brings you to Whiterun, stranger?”

    Now you decide to speak?” the woman quipped.

    “I… heard something about a dragon attack,” I said, surprised by the question. “Came here to find answers.”

    “To what?” Aela asked.

    “Anything. Helgen was destroyed by a dragon. That makes two attacks I know of. I need to find out if there’s a connection, besides the obvious…”

    “The dragon we fought acted like any predator from the wild,” the woman said. “There may not have been a special reason for the attack.”

    I looked away. “Maybe I just want a special reason… I want to make sense of Helgen. My family died there.”

    Aela rested a hand on her hip. “Ah. So it’s vengeance you’re looking for.”

    “Only if there’s someone responsible. Or something.”

    “You would fight a dragon?” Farkas asked.

    “For my family? Yeah,” I said, “I’d fight one gladly.”

    “Assuming you actually stood a chance,” the woman said. I’m convinced she thought me a fool. The man, on the other hand, had a different opinion.

    “Aela. I like this one,” Farkas said. “He should come back with us. He’d make a good Companion.”

    What did he just say!?

    Let me tell you, I wasn’t ready for that. It came out of nowhere. Aela raised an eyebrow at her stalwart shield-brother.

    “Really? You think he’s worth it?”                                  

    The woman stopped for a moment to inspect me again – a fresh assessment, in light of her friend’s suggestion.

    “Hmm… I suppose we’ve taken worse. You did handle yourself well,” she said. “So? You heard him. What do you have to say?”

    I’m supposed to speak when asked a question. You’d have thought I didn’t know that.

    “Are you telling me… I can join you?” I eventually said.

    “No,” Aela spoke flatly. “Not for us to say. You’ll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane, up at Jorrvaskr. The old man’s got a good sense for people. He can tell your worth.”

    Kodlak? Is he the Harbinger now? I supposed he’d gotten pretty old, huh? I’d have been a young boy when I first heard of him. He was a big name among the Companions back then.

    But never mind that! I’d all but forgotten the reason I came to Whiterun in the first place. The day had suddenly soared beyond my wildest imagination. I was invited to Jorrvaskr to be a Companion! That… that just doesn’t happen! Not to people like me! Or so I thought.

    “What are we standing here for, then!? Lead on!” I exclaimed with boyish enthusiasm. The two warriors exchanged looks and made for the city gates. I followed close behind.

    I’d always wanted to see Jorrvaskr! A trip from Helgen wouldn’t have been grueling but we never had an excuse to travel. Come to think of it, there was a lot of Skyrim I hadn’t seen. What if I get accepted? I’ll get to travel all across the province! If only my family were still around. They would have been ecstatic to hear about all this. I can picture it now. I’d walk through the front door, dust my feet off on that old goat-skin rug, rush to the kitchen and find my uncle cooking some…

    I left my bag back on the road, didn’t I?

    “Ah, wait! I just remembered! I left something, uh…” I spun back, pointing, “back there… somewhere…” I started trotting in reverse as I spoke. “You two go ahead! Go on! I’ll catch up!” The Companions watched me jog away, puzzled.

    Great first impression, I groaned to myself. I knew after that moment that I was in for a rough time. I’d have to prove my worth to the Companions. No easy feat. But I would try! Oh you bet I would! Especially around that woman, Aela. I wasn’t done with her. A shame I didn’t have much in the way of finesse.

    Bah, I’m more substance over style anyway.

    ~ooooo~

    The first thing I took stock of when I stepped into Jorrvaskr was a huge pit of burning coals, a center piece to herald warmth and relaxation. The hall had finished wood-work, lush red carpets, tables lined with silver dining ware, elaborate banners and weapons on display. Walls were decorated with shields, animal pelts, and taxidermy heads of impressive game. The room smelled of sweat mead.

    That was all the first thing. The second thing I noticed was two people beating the cheese out of each other.

    “Just keep swinging!”

    “Watch the eyes!”

    “Twelve Septims on the girl! Look at that speed!”

    Ringed by a small crowd of barking spectators – fellow Companions or maid servants, if I had to wager – a woman and a Dark Elf were locked in a fistfight, spitting curses and swinging their knuckles at each other like there was no tomorrow.

    “Those two at it again…?” Aela said beside me. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. I’d spent all of five seconds in Jorrvaskr and I already loved the place.

    “Oof. That one’s got a chip on her shoulder,” I said, tilting my head to get a better view of the girl in the scrap. “You see that? Nobody throws a punch like that unless they’re trying to break a jaw. What’d that elf do?”

    “It’s anybody’s guess,” Aela sighed. “Ysgramor himself wouldn't have the patience to deal with all the rabble around here.”

    She didn’t seem to mind the entertainment, though. The woman went off to join the crowd, eyeing me as I followed.

    “Shouldn’t you be going somewhere?” she said.

    I pouted. “What, I can’t stay and watch?”

    “Your choice. But I wouldn’t waste time. Kodlak tends to keep himself busy.”

    “Right… um…” I looked around. “Where do I…?”      

    “The living quarters,” she replied, gesturing her head toward the opposite side of the hall, “Downstairs. He should be there.”

    “Great! I’ll be back.”

    Heading over to and down the steps, I tried to shake off the tingling in my spine. It bothered me. Come on, man! You face down a giant and THIS is what scares you? No way to make light of it, really. Kodlak Whiteman was a warrior of renown. Or, well, he was in my youth. Sometimes the impressions you get when you’re young, though, stick with you the longest. What was I compared to him? Compared to anybody else in Jorvaskr? That man Farkas seemed to want me around. Suppose I had that going for me.

    I passed open rooms with beds and dresser drawers down the length of a long, candle lit hallway. It was an arched tunnel of brick and wood. Very quiet. The carpet and furniture made things homely, but the lower floor felt more like a dungeon compared to the hall up top. I peeked into each room as I passed. Nobody around, ‘cept for a wrinkly old maid sweeping the floor. I cleared my throat, coming to a closed doorway at the end of the stretch.

    “But I still hear the call of the blood…”                                                                              

    “We all do. It is our burden to bear. But we can overcome.”

    Sounded like a conversation was going on the other side. I leaned in closer. I could hear two men, the first one younger than the other. One of them was probably Kodlak. Probably.

    How long are they gonna be in there?

    “You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don’t know if the rest will go along quite so easily.”

    Should I knock on the door?

    “Leave that to me.”

    Yeah. Let’s knock on the door.         

    I knocked. The door swung open on its hinges. It hadn’t been shut properly. I stared blankly as the two men turned their eyes to me.

    Dammit.

    “Who are you supposed to be?” the young man asked. He looked an awful lot like Farkas. The older man had a thick beard almost the length of his head and long grey hair tossed back. Both seemed to have just gotten back from some trip, wearing underclothing with suits of grey steel armor set aside.

    “A stranger has come to our hall,” the old one said. Though on in years, he looked robust. The man was definitely Kodlak. I set my bag down by the doorframe.

    “Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt your heartfelt chat, here. The door wasn’t closed.”          

    “Looked pretty closed to me,” the Farkas lookalike grunted.

    “Well… sure. But it wasn’t.”

    The man folded his arms, a clear lack of amusement on his face.

    “Hmph. So another ambitious visitor?” he snorted, more to the old man than to me. “You think you can just wander in here and join us?”

    “What makes you say that’s what I’m here for?” I said for argument’s sake.

    “It is painfully obvious, lad,” Kodlak replied, relaxing in his seat. “But you’re here now. Come in. We were just finishing.”

    I stepped into the room. There were maps scrawled over a desk and shelves cluttered with books. The two men sat by an end table, treating themselves to a bottle of alto wine. A troll’s skull rested on a stand near the doorway among display cases filled with other trophies.

    “You must be Kodlak Whitemane,” I said, smiling. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

    “All good, I trust,” the old man replied, returning a smile of his own. “Who might you be?”

    “Reinhardt. Just call me Reinhardt.”

    “Well then, Reinhardt, what brings you to Jorrvaskr?”        

    “Ah, right. I suppose… I’m here to see if you’ll take me. As a Companion. There was a giant destroying a farm just outside the city. I helped two of your fellows fight it…”

    “Giants are docile,” the young man interrupted. “They would never bother anyone near the walls unless provoked. Why was it attacking?”

    “Beats me. Does it matter? After we killed it, I was invited here by someone named Farkas… along with a woman, Aela. They’ll vouch for my story.”

    “My brother invited you here?” the man said in disbelief.       

    I beamed. “So he is your brother! I thought you two looked alike.”

    “This is Vilkas,” Kodlak said, cutting off the man before he could speak further. “He and his brother are two of our finest warriors. If Farkas is willing to vouch for your presence, that speaks a great volume.” He beckoned with a wave of his hand. “Here, let me have a look at you.”

    I came closer, sweating as the Harbinger studied me intensely. Those eyes of his were strong and deep. He was the alpha-male all right. And I was the whelp trying to squeeze into the pack.

    What happens after this? What does a man have to do to join the Companions?

    Kodlak shuffled in his seat.

    “Hmm… Yes. Perhaps. A certain strength of spirit,” he said. “I think you would fit in well around here.”

    Wait… that’s it!? Does that mean I’m in!?

    I don’t know what I was expecting.

    Vilkas stirred. “Master, you’re not truly considering accepting him?”

    “I am nobody’s master, Vilkas,” Kodlak retorted with a mildly scolding tone, “and last I checked, we have some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts.”

    The young man wilted. “Apologies… But perhaps this isn’t the time…”      

    “I cannot picture a better time than now,” the old man said. “In case you’ve forgotten, dragons have returned. The need for able warriors will be greater than ever. Trained or raw, it makes no difference who steps into our hall.”

    Kodlak gave me a firm faced glare.

    “What matters is their heart.”

    “And their arm,” Vilkas added insistently.

    “Of course,” the Harbinger smiled again. “How are you in battle, boy?”

    “Oh… I can hold my own,” I replied. “But I’m sure there’s plenty I could learn from all of you. Kinda exciting, actually.”

    “That’s the spirit,” Kodlak said. He glanced at the young man. “Vilkas, take this one out to the yard and see what he can do.”

    Vilkas complied, standing up from his seat. He brushed past me and went down the hall, minding me about as much as a mammoth minds a skeever. Somebody’s a grouch today, I thought to myself as I caught up beside him.

    “Hey. We don’t have a problem, do we?” I asked.

    “The old man thinks you’ve got something worthwhile to offer,” Vilkas said as we walked. “I won’t be the one who questions his judgment.”

    “At least give me the chance to prove myself,” I replied. “Nine willing, maybe I’ll surprise you.”

    The two of us went on in awkward silence. I don’t like awkward silences.

    “So…” I started.

    Vilkas sighed. “Figured you would have questions. Can they wait until after we’re done?”

    “Did you fight the dragon that attacked the city?” I asked anyway.

    “Yes,” the man said, “as did most of us here in Jorrvaskr. Those who weren’t off elsewhere in Skyrim.”

    “Tell me, how did you kill it?”

    “Wasn’t I who killed it, new blood. That glory wasn’t taken by any Companion.”

    New blood? Ysmir, I really did make it, didn’t I…

    “Who, then?”

    Vilkas looked ready to say something, before he stopped and said something else.

    “It was the Dragonborn.”

    “What…!?” I exclaimed softly, wide-eyed. “The Dragonborn was here!?”

    “He killed the beast and took its soul. I watched him do it with my own eyes. That was moments before the Greybeards called for him.”

    “By Shor! That’s incredible!” I said, filled with awe and mirth at the thought. “Did you speak with the man? What was he like?”

    “We didn’t converse much... He seemed unwavering, reckless even, charging into battle without regard for himself. Beyond that I cannot speak for his personality.” Vilkas paused. “But he was passionate, and fought against the dragon bravely.”

    The man gave me a funny look as we reached the stairs. “You might want to discard your thought of him as a ‘man,’ by the way.”

    “Eh? Why?” I asked. “Was he a woman?”

    “No, that’s not...” Vilkas rummaged for the right words. “I mean the Dragonborn wasn’t of men. He was an Argonian.”

    I stopped. A bubble of laughter upped out of me.      

    “Ha! Ah, for a second there I thought you said that the Dragonborn… was a…”

    Vilkas kept a straight face. My mirth became bewilderment.

    “Woah now… You mind, uh, running that by me one more time?”

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Comments

10 Comments   |   Fallout Night likes this.
  • Isaac Lucero
    Isaac Lucero   ·  January 29, 2015
    Many months ago I left this site, content with act 1. Now that I have reached this point I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll try my hand at fan fiction...
  • adds-many-comments
    adds-many-comments   ·  January 17, 2015
    Oh I know that don't worry, I don't expect you to rush or anything. your work is great as it is.

    I know how much effort goes into writing, I used to write myself just for fun!
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  January 17, 2015
    @adds-many-comments
    If only I could update the story that fast...
    Hopefully the progress bar will at least keep you informed of my progress. And trust me, I am almost always trying to make progress.
  • adds-many-comments
    adds-many-comments   ·  January 17, 2015
    I read this whilst listening to a 10 hour long Verizon of TES Morrowind theme in the background, the music picked up at the right moments in the story like with the giant fight.

    I didn't listen to the whole 10 hours of the video. Who has the ...  more
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  January 15, 2015
    @Lazy
    Fixed. Curse this English language and its inability to follow its own rules... XP
  • Lazy
    Lazy   ·  January 15, 2015
    “Shore’s bones!!” 

    Details, details, Okan. The devil's in them. 
    In all seriousness, though, this was a very fun read. This new and bubbly Reinhardt at the sight of the Companions is a pleasure in itself.
  • Zonnonn
    Zonnonn   ·  January 14, 2015
    That makes more sense, I didn't realise he had time to grieve, and I suppose that being away from them for so long would make a difference.
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  January 13, 2015
    @Boro
    Nope. They're going to continue to play a small, but important role at different points in the story, particularly with connections to Reinhardt. There's more to come with the Companions. 
    @Zonnonn
    Reinhardt's not the type to let d...  more
  • Zonnonn
    Zonnonn   ·  January 13, 2015
    DOTE and Desert Thirst in one week, oh how you treat us Story Corner!
    I was kind of surprised at Reinhardts happy attitude, his family and his home just got killed by a dragon, after all. However, it was a nice change from Chase's somber outlook, an...  more
  • Borommakot
    Borommakot   ·  January 13, 2015
    Great stuff! Reinhardt is such a fun guy! I admit, I kinda assumed the Companions were out of the story after Chases left Whiterun.