Sundas, 31^st Last Seed, 4E 201

Rigmor and I were about to leave for Ivarstead when Silah popped out of the ether.

“I apologise for not knocking, but there is no time. Solitude is under attack.”

“How many dragons?”

“Six.”

“I want you and Nahfahlaar to harass them after the Dragonguard are in place.”

“Okay.”

Silah vanished, and I summoned Vayu.

“Six dragons are attacking Solitude. Your squad, Inigo, Celestine and Rigmor will accompany me. The other squads will teleport to their designated places.”

I rushed over to my CORB and contacted the one in the barracks. Ko’rassa answered almost immediately.

“Ko’rassa, Solitude is under attack by six dragons. Everybody knows the plan. Inigo will be with me.”

“The dragons will concentrate their attacks on you.”

“Yes, and that is why I trust Inigo to stand by my side.”

“Several people are listening to this conversation and are already organising the squads.”

“The city guards have not had a chance to formulate a plan to evacuate civilians to shelters. The casualties will be high.”

“We can only do our best.”

I walked over to Rigmor.

“We shall have two of the best Restoration Mages with us.”

“Did you expect so many dragons this soon?”

“No. It seems Odahviing has been successful in his recruiting.”

“Let’s go.”

“Stay with me at all times.”

“I will try.”

I summoned Celestine and Vayu filled her in.

Then I teleported the group into the Safehouse.

I walked over to Lydia.

“You are not equipped to fight dragons, but if you run to The Blue Palace, you can tell Jarl Elisif what is happening and help protect her. She may not know it yet, but assassins are targeting Elisif. Tell her dragons can summon Draugr and other undead, so you should remain with her.”

“Raikou told me about the New Order.”

“He would only do that if you have taken the oath.”

“Yes, I took the oath.”

“Then, Dragonguard Lydia, I welcome you to our ranks.”

“I will head to the palace now, Grandmaster.”

We could hear the screams of panicking citizens when we left the Safehouse.

Dragons would perch on rooftops and attack huddled groups. The Dragonguard, Silah and Nahfahlaar would not allow them to do so for long.

As soon as I hit an enemy with Dragonfire, they knew who I was and concentrated their attacks on me.

Dragonfire from me and Lightning from Nahfahlaar badly injured one dragon. However, he was one of the weakest I could see.

The same combination injured a second dragon.

Nahfahlaar became involved in an aerial fight when a third dragon targeted me and he injured it badly.

I then told my group, “Let us head for Castle Dour’s courtyard. There will be fewer civilians caught in the crossfire.”

We ran through the chaos as death rained from above. The sky changing hue with the different Shouts of the dragons.

As we neared the courtyard, a powerful Unrelenting Force shout smashed us against a wall.

Rigmor was cursing as we stood up.

I asked, “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, right, pffft! Dragonbum.”

Confused civilians wandered around, surrounded by dead and injured.

One of the attacking dragons died. I absorbed its soul as we entered Castle Dour’s courtyard.

When we entered the courtyard, Silah warned, “THREE MORE DRAGONS HAVE ARRIVED!”

Castle Dour’s courtyard became the central point of combat, as I had hoped. While the dragons were concentrating on me, civilians were finally fleeing inside.

When a dragon fell, Silah or Nahfahlaar would remove the skeleton. I needed the courtyard clear so that injured dragons would land near me.

I asked Rigmor, “Do you like the Lord Akatosh statue I paid for?”

She replied, “I am too busy not dying to have a look.”

Depending on my opponent, I used Unrelenting Force or Dragonfire along with my katana and spells when a dragon was grounded.

Dragons died. Sometimes I delivered the final damage, sometimes not. It mattered little, for I had to endure the soul absorption each time.

Now that most of the civilians were safe, I decided to create a moving target. I ran along the streets, with my ally dragons not giving the enemy a chance to strafe me.

I killed a dragon in Bard’s College courtyard.

I entered The Blue Palace’s gardens and killed another dragon.

Then all was silent except for the sounds of crying, the roar of fires, and orders barked by surviving guards and legionnaires.

Silah said, “THE THREE REMAINING ENEMIES HAVE FLED. WE SHALL REMAIN HIGH AND PROTECT THE CITY.”

I turned to Vayu.

• Wulf: Do what you can for the injured.
• Vayu: We have planned this for months, Wulf. We know what to do. Granite and his squad will already be doing the heavy lifting. Celestine has headed off to aid who she can.
• Wulf: Solitude would have been destroyed if we hadn’t been here.
• Rigmor: Are any Dragonguard hurt?
• Wulf: I do not know, Rigmor. I will get a report later. We must visit the Greybeards.
• Rigmor: Are we still walking the 7000 Steps?
• Wulf: Yes, I feel it is important that I do so. Plus, I need some quiet, with you, after this.
• Rigmor: Okay.

Inigo came running over. We had got separated during the chaos.

“My Friend, Ko’rassa is not hurt!”

“That is good news, Inigo.”

“Should I help put out the fires?”

“Vayu will be coordinating the rescue efforts. Rigmor and I must leave now.”

“We did well, My Friend.”

“We fought bravely, but many innocents died.”

As Inigo spoke to Vayu, I teleported Rigmor and me into Ivarstead.

I started walking towards the 7000 Steps, determined not to cry.

We had not gone far when Rigmor said, “Look at the headlines of ‘The Throat of The World’”

I briefly looked at the poster, grunted and continued walking.

A few steps later, Rigmor pleaded, “Wulf, stop. Talk to me. Please!”

I turned to my beloved, and the tears started to flow.

“What has upset you?”

“You were probably too busy trying to stay alive to notice what we passed.”

“It was difficult to keep up with you with Shout after Shout battering us. But I saw things, and I knew they were making you angry. You were becoming reckless, Wulf.”

“I saw six Dragonguard prone on the ground. Alive or dead, I do not know. I saw dozens of civilians and guards and legionnaires burnt, frozen or smashed to a pulp. I saw two dead children, orphans I had sent to Kings Hall. Bugoga was eight years of age. Her face reflected the terror she felt. She wanted to be a seamstress like her mother. Waynok was eleven years of age. We were trying to find some Redguard traders who would take him on as an apprentice.”

“We saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. We saved the city. We won, Wulf.”

“Along the 7000 Steps the presence of Lady Kynareth is strong. The views we shall see are breathtaking. I need these things, and you, to fight the darkness. We fought for more than three hours, and you are tired. So, we shall take our time even though I desperately want to know how to defeat Alduin before more innocents are killed.”

“Come on then. I am looking forward to having thighs as big as yours.”

I stopped and stared at a pig.

“What are you doing?” asked Rigmor.

“Looking at next week’s bacon and eggs. Perhaps even chicken soup.”

“Thanks. Tomorrow when breakfast is in front of me, I will think of these animals.”

“And then you will breathe in the irresistible bacon aroma and pile your plate high.”

“True.”

On the bridge leading to the 7000 Steps, we encountered two locals.

• Gwilin: On your way up the 7,000 Steps again, Klimmek? Aren’t the Greybeards expecting some supplies?
• Klimmek: I have thee supplies, Gwilin. But I don’t think I should make the climb to High Hrothgar. The path isn’t safe.
• Gwilin: What’s High Hrothgar like inside?
• Klimmek: I don’t know. I’ve yet to be allowed into the monastery. Perhaps one day.
• Wulf: I can take the supplies for you.

Klimmek turned to me.

• Klimmek: You would do that, Lord Welkynd?
• Wulf: I am on my way there, so why not?
• Klimmek: Are you on a pilgrimage?
• Wulf: No, the Greybeards invited me.
• Rigmor: Did you hear them call ‘Dovahkiin’?
• Klimmek: Everybody did.
• Rigmor: Lord Welkynd is the Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn of prophecy.
• Klimmek: We read about a dragon attack in Helgen and how you were hurt.
• Rigmor: Lord Welkynd was hurt, but The Divines helped him.
• Wulf: Another dragon attacked a tower near Whiterun.
• Rigmor: We just fought nine dragons attacking Solitude.
• Klimmek: What can we do against dragons?
• Wulf: You hide, preferably inside a stone building.
• Klimmek: I think I need a couple of meads.
• Wulf: Give me the supplies.

Klimmek handed me a hefty sack. His eyes widened when it vanished. I had deposited the sack and its contents in Cethnelor, my 4th-dimensional chest.

I assured him, “The supplies will be delivered, Klimmek. I put them somewhere safe, so I do not have to carry them.”

“Yes, a couple of meads will do nicely, right now.”

 As Klimmek headed for the inn, we crossed the bridge and started the 7000 Steps.

Rigmor asked, “What is that green fire?”

“If you place your hand in the fire, some of it will remain on your skin. It doesn’t burn. You are then supposed to run to High Hrothgar as fast as you can. If you reach High Hrothgar in time, you pass the test.”

“Who set the test and what do you get for passing?”

“Lady Kynareth set the test. The only reward is the satisfaction of completing the task.”

“I can think of better things to do than wear myself out running up a mountain.”

“Devotees of Lady Kynareth would strongly dispute that blasphemy.”

We came to the first Emblem.

I explained to Rigmor, “There are ten Emblems along the 7000 Steps. They were placed by the first Greybeards and are supposed to educate pilgrims. They lie and mislead, and if I had my way, they would be replaced by the truth.”

Rigmor read it out loud.

• Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all 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 growled, “That is bollocks! Dragons use The Voice to exercise their base instincts of combat and domination.”

“Perhaps combat and domination are True Needs?”

“We are talking religion here. Logic has no place.”

“You are going to have to try hard not to offend the Greybeards.”

“I know. Luckily, I have you to nag me.”

“If they rarely have visitors, I wonder how long it has been since they saw a woman?”

“If they start panting and drooling, you will know it has been a while.”

A bit further on, Rigmor whined, “7000 steps. You have to be kidding.”

I told her, “There are 748 visible steps when the snow thaws. 732 after heavy snow.”

“Then why is it called 7000 Steps?”

“Like all things religious, exaggeration is used. This mountain is sacred to Nords. Except those from Bruma who worship Sweetrolls instead.”

“Perhaps the shape of a Sweetroll reminds us of this mountain?”

We were not very high, but still, the view fed my soul some beauty it sorely needed. The darkness receded a bit.

We encountered a goat.

I remarked, “There is a resemblance.”

“Resemblance to what?”

“The goat’s arse and you, Lady Ramsbottom.”

“You love me, so the logical conclusion is that the weirdo loves goat bottoms.”

“Now you know all my secrets!”

Rigmor laughed, and the darkness receded further.

I advised Rigmor, “The next part is the steepest. Perfect for shaping those calf muscles.”

Rigmor replied with a perfect Sigunn Stare.

A pilgrim was praying in front of the second Emblem. I hoped he prayed to Lady Kynareth, not the old bearded parasites.

He turned to us as we approached.

• Wulf: Good afternoon. I am Lord Welkynd.
• Rigmor: And I am Lady Ramsbottom.
• Barknar: Greetings, I am Barknar. Watch out for wolves if you are headed to High Hrothgar.
• Wulf: Lucky for me, Lady Ramsbottom is very handy with that huge sword of hers.
• Rigmor: I love the feel of a long weapon in my hands, don’t you, Barknar?
• Barknar: Umm…
• Rigmor: Did you hear the Greybeards summon the Dovahkiin?
• Barknar: I did. Strange days when the monks will do that. I wonder what it means.
• Rigmor: It means that the Dragonborn Prophecy has come to pass. Lord Welkynd is the dragonborn of that prophecy.
• Barknar: But that means dragons have returned.
• Wulf: Yesterday, a dragon destroyed Helgen. We fought another dragon near Whiterun. This morning, nine dragons attacked Solitude. We managed to kill six before three of them flew away.
• Barknar: You are not joking, are you?
• Wulf: You can read about yesterday’s events in The Throat of The World.
• Barknar: That is a good idea. I think I will head for Vilemyr Inn and see what others know.
• Wulf: Keep your eyes on the sky, Barknar. Do not stray too far from a place to hide.
• Barknar: Ha, and I warned you about wolves.

As Barknar headed down the steps, Rigmor read the second Emblem.

• Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus
• The Dragons presided over the crawling masses
• Men were weak then and had no Voice

Rigmor remarked, “No mention of Mer. Are the Greybeards all Nords?”

“The current four are. There have been Mer greybeards in the past.”

“This Emblem implies that mortals were weak until they were gifted The Voice. That is, as you like to say, bollocks!”

“You are right. Man, and Mer, fought the dragons with skill and courage. They would still have lost the Dragon War if Alduin had not been banished.”

“Are you mentioning the Emblems in your museum?”

“Yes, with my take on their lessons, but in a more polite fashion.”

“So instead of saying bollocks or bullshit, your plaque will say something like, ‘Oh, dear. I think the Greybeards are a teeny, weeny bit wrong.’”

“Perhaps something not so flowery but still suitable for younger visitors.”

We reached the third Emblem. People had been leaving offerings.

Rigmor read it aloud.

• The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times
• Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices
• But the Dragons only Shouted them down and broke their hearts

Rigmor scoffed, “So now they are strong? I wish the people who wrote these could make up their mind or minds.”

“Their morale was high. I would not call them fledgling spirits though.”

“Aw, their little hearts were broken.”

“They might have got frustrated, but I doubt they burst into tears and sobbed into their pillows.”

Rigmor exclaimed, “Wow! Look at that view, Dragonbum!”

“It is spectacular.”

“Tirlineth tells me your mood is lighter, Wulf.”

“This walk is doing what I hoped it would.”

“Good, because there is a place for sadness, not that darkness you struggle with.”

“It has always been there, Rigmor. I think it is a product of my dragon soul.”

A fire was still burning at a campsite.

Rigmor whined, “I am getting hungry?”

“Hey, you ate breakfast seven hours ago! Talk about a glutton.”

I retrieved a Sweetroll from Cethnelor and tossed it to her.

Lady Ramsbottom did not consume the Sweetroll like a high-born noble. It was more like a pig at a trough.

The Sweetroll vanished, followed by a contented belch.

“Has your humble servant prevented Milady from starvation?”

“Yes, now stop dawdling.”

“I must remind Milady I am going at a pace compatible with her stamina.”

“You would not happen to have another Sweetroll, would you?”

I retrieved another Sweetroll and tossed it to Rigmor. She ate the second one a bit slower as we continued our trek.

A pilgrim, who I assumed was the owner of the recently passed camp, was sitting in front of the fourth Emblem.

• Wulf: Greetings, I am Lord Welkynd. My companion is Lady Ramsbottom.
• Karita: Greetings. My name is Karita.
• Wulf: It is nice to meet you, Karita.
• Rigmor: Are you a hunter?
• Karita: I am just a pilgrim. I prefer to leave it at that if you don’t mind.
• Rigmor: Did you hear the Greybeards call Dovahkiin?
• Karita: I was just outside Ivarstead when it happened. It’s an exciting moment. Nothing like this has happened in centuries.
• Rigmor: What are you doing?
• Karita: Walking the Steps. Meditating on the emblems. I make this trip every few years. What are you doing?
• Rigmor: Accompanying Lord Welkynd to High Hrothgar. The Greybeards summoned him.
• Karita: That means… Are you a dragonborn?
• Rigmor: Lord Welkynd is The Dragonborn of the prophecy.
• Karita: Have dragons returned?
• Wulf: Yes. They destroyed Helgen yesterday and attacked Solitude in numbers this morning.
• Karita: I had better head home. My family will be worried.
• Rigmor: Do you mind if I get closer so I can read the Emblem?
• Karita: Go ahead.

Rigmor moved closer and then read the Emblem.

• Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man
• Together they taught Men to use The Voice
• Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue

I told Rigmor, “Paarthurnax killed tens of thousands of people before changing sides.”

“Was it out of pity?”

“Alduin had a duty. He was the World Eater. Giving in to his base instincts for battle and domination was seen by Paarthurnax as a rebellion against their celestial father, Lord Akatosh, and a dereliction of duty. He felt disgust toward Alduin and therefore changed sides. Pity was not a factor.”

“You told me it can take years to learn a single Shout. So how long did it take to train Tongues enough to combat dragons using The Voice?”

“It takes years when saddled with the Greybeards mumbo-jumbo. It takes years to hone sword skills to your level. However, armies churn out competent sword wielders at a great rate. The same with teaching The Voice during a war. Plain teaching without the mystical crap would produce competent users of The Voice at a reasonable rate.”

Karita was looking at us with a horrified expression. She has probably never heard somebody disagree with the Emblems.

Rigmor and I proceeded to the next Emblem.

It was time for another Rigmor whine.

“Wulf, I do not think I can make it?”

“Tirlineth!”

“What is the fun of whining if you cannot get away with it?”

“I doubt I am going to stop till Alduin is stopped. This walk may be the last bit of peace we have before leaping back into the chaos.”

“Alright, I am enjoying it.”

“You have had a chance to stare at my arse for hours.”

“Ahh, it is covered in metal.”

“But you can imagine what is under the metal.”

“Guess what?”

“Weird?”

“Perverted.”

“Hey, I am not the one imagining my bare arse.”

“Get moving.”

“Yes, Milady.”

Rigmor exclaimed, “Wow! What killed all these people?”

“I would guess a troll. But they aren’t home.”

As the next Emblem came in view, Silah appeared from the ether. She spoke to us telepathically.

• Silah: No Dragonguard died, Valdr. Thirteen were severely injured and are resting as they recover from healing spells.
• Wulf: From what I witnessed, our mages had very little chance to use Destruction spells.
• Silah: Yes, they were constantly healing people. The death toll would have been much higher if not for them.
• Wulf: How many died?
• Silah: Just over one hundred at the last count. It could have been in the thousands, Valdr.
• Wulf: I saw dead children, Silah. Orphans that I had sent to Solitude.
• Silah: Rigmor, is Valdr going to be okay?
• Rigmor: Yes, he will be fine. However, I have this feeling that the Greybeards might need to tread carefully.
• Wulf: And Wulf keeps quiet while they talk about him.
• Rigmor: What was that?
• Silah: Background noise. Ignore it for now. Yes, I agree about the Greybeards. Valdr already has a low opinion of them.
• Rigmor: I am trying to understand his animosity.
• Silah: He thinks their ‘Way Of The Voice’ is blasphemy. Valdr thinks they are parasites that rely on charity but contribute nothing to society, not out of inability but choice. He dreads them trying to lecture him about the use of his Thu’um.
• Rigmor: Oh, all that ‘only use it when needed’ crap.
• Silah: That mantra totally ignores why Dov were gifted the Thu’um when Lord Akatosh created us. It is like saying a Sabre Cat should only use its sharp teeth and claws when needed.
• Rigmor: And then Lady Kynareth wanted mortals to use it for war.
• Silah: Exactly. But Valdr has to be diplomatic. The Greybeards may have vital information he needs to defeat Alduin.
• Wulf: Background noise thinks the Greybeards will be a waste of time, and that Paarthurnax may provide useful advice.
• Silah: Paarthurnax thinks so as well, Valdr. But try not to insult the Greybeards, just in case.
• Wulf: I have no doubt your appearance here has scared the crap out of some pilgrims and likely the entire population of Ivarstead.
• Silah: That is unavoidable, Valdr. However, it is best if they think all dragons are hostile for now.
• Rigmor: They will soon become proficient at finding a good place to hide.
• Wulf: You easily outmaneuvered the other dragons, Silah.
• Silah: I saw Nahfahlaar rip a wing off Krosisnaakraan. He might not be as agile as me, but few other dragons could hope to defeat him.
• Wulf: I have not spoken to my friend in months.
• Silah: Rigmor, Nahfahlaar’s ego is easily bruised, and his vanity is unequalled. He is now sitting on his mountain of gold, attending to every nick and scrape earned during the fight.
• Rigmor: Mountain of gold?
• Wulf: Nahfahlaar craves gold, almost as much as you crave Sweetrolls. Father spoiled him with riches. I gift him choice items of gold. I am not buying his loyalty. I am keeping him happy. It is a small price to pay.
• Rigmor: Wulf, when you absorb a dragon’s soul, do you learn their name?
• Wulf: Yes. Krosisnaakraan, Naxinoraalvut, Yolmuthahvoth, Drogathunaarzil, Kaalvuzkriihaal and Zulgonakriimvur died for their overlord at Solitude.
• Rigmor: Overlord?
• Silah: That is the title Alduin bestowed upon himself. It was one of the reasons Paarthurnax turned on him.
• Wulf: Claiming that title was proof Alduin had abandoned his title and purpose of World Eater.
• Rigmor: Wulf said you outmaneuvered the other dragons. Have you practiced combat flying?
• Silah: All Jills can outmaneuver male dragons. It makes mating flights more challenging. They have to earn their reward. Although the Jills enjoy the mating as well, so we often let them catch us.
• Rigmor: Why would you mate? You cannot have offspring.
• Silah: Rigmor, most mating done by intelligent beings is for pleasure, not procreation. Lord Akatosh made us barren so we do not become the dominant species on Nirn. He did not deny Dov the pleasures of sex.
• Wulf: Their mating flights are fascinating to watch.
• Rigmor: Ahh…okay…umm…
• Wulf: You should see the size of a dragon’s member!
• Silah: Rigmor has turned a nice shade of red.
• Wulf: It must be the cold. We had better keep moving before she freezes to death.
• Silah: I will keep flying and enjoying the thermals here. They are magnificent.

I told Rigmor, “To remove imaginary visions of dragon dangly bits, I suggest you read the next Emblem.”

“I was not thinking about that!”

“Aha.”

“I was not!”

I smiled and got one in return as Rigmor approached the Emblem and read it aloud.

• Man prevailed, Shouting Alduin out of the world
• Proving for all that their Voice, too, was strong
• Although their sacrifices were many-fold

“That is a lie, Rigmor. They used a Shout to make Alduin land, for he is invulnerable in the air. They used an Elder Scroll to throw him into the time-stream. Paarthurnax knows about the Shout and its name, Dragonrend. He knows about the Elder Scroll because he warned them of its unknown consequences. Nobody knows what the Elder Scroll contained, or the Words of Power and intent of the Shout.”

“Perhaps the Greybeards who created these Emblems did not know about the Elder Scroll?”

“Paarthurnax is their leader. They knew, but decided to promote The Voice over the truth.”

We continued to the next Emblem, which Rigmor read aloud.

• With roaring Tongues, the Sky Children conquer
• Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice
• Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World

“Yeah, let’s celebrate the butchery that created the First Nordic Empire! Such a thing to show pride in! But what do you expect from a people that revere the genocidal Ysgramor?”

“That is a bit harsh.”

“Rigmor, do you deny the fact that Nords worship the butchers of their past as a whole?”

“I can’t, but not all of us are so blind to the truth.”

“All species have things in their past that they regret. But few celebrate them; instead, they learn from them. Because Nords put these honourless Mer haters on a pedestal, the senseless racism still festers. People argue that The Dominion is racist, and they are wrong. The average Altmer does not hate Man. It is their leaders, The Thalmor, that continue the ancient animosity. However, if you speak to the average Nord in some Holds, they hate Mer and don’t even know why!”

“I know you hold no animosity towards Nords.”

“My anger is directed against the institution of butcher worship, not the Nord people. It is one of the driving forces behind my desire to create a museum that tells the truth. Yes, the initial attacks by Ysgramor and the 500 were reprisals for Saarthal. But decades later, when they continued to smash Falmer infants’ heads against rocks, rape their women and butcher non-combatants, it was no longer reprisal but blind hatred. They refused all offers of truce! They wiped out an entire race, claiming it was justified. I only hope I get to confront Ysgramor one day and ask him to defend what happened.”

“I understand, Wulf. Perhaps the embarrassment I felt when you spelt it out makes me sensitive to the criticism of my people. I want nothing more than to stop what you call butcher worship.”

“I was not trying to generalise, Rigmor. I apologise if it came across that way.”

“Any other comments on this Emblem?”

“No, it is just propaganda.”

A bit further along, Rigmor remarked, “Damn, that is quite a view even through the haze!”

“There are people who climb to the peaks of each mountain.”

“Why?”

“They are a challenge and provide a sense of achievement.”

“What about this mountain?”

“I do not think a mortal has been on its summit since the Dragon War. Where Paarthurnax roosts is still way below the highest point.”

“We are going to the very top, Dragonbum!”

“You might not be able to climb it, but I can get there and summon you.”

“Cool!”

Silah was still circling above with only the occasional beat of her wings.

We were progressing slowly, but I did not mind. The darkness had faded, and I enjoyed my time with Rigmor.

Rigmor read the seventh Emblem.

• The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled
• Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation
• To understand how Strong Voices could fail

I commented, “Not every written history has Nords at that battle. That is because different timelines were spliced together to fix a Dragon Break.”

“I must be dizzy with the thin air, but that makes sense.”

“The Jurgen Windcaller that started The Greybeards was at that battle. He couldn’t accept a defeat by a Mer army.”

“I remember the history Mum taught me, Wulf. How dare better tactics, superior mages and the defence of their homeland defeat Nord invaders?”

“Jurgen Windcaller stared at his belly button for seven years while he tried to figure out why they lost. Without any confirmation from Lady Kynareth, he concluded that using The Voice only for violence was wrong and that it had a higher purpose. Instead of facing the truth that the other side was better, he blasphemed.”

“What did he conclude?”

“You should waste your life contemplating your belly button as some form of Kynareth worship. He also wondered why belly button fluff is always blue in colour.”

“Wulf, it was a serious question.”

“I am sorry, Rigmor, but I find the reasoning behind The Way of The Voice ludicrous. Anything related to Kynareth’s domain, the sky, air and wind, has deeper meanings than just being what they are. What Jurgen Windcaller preached, and is the basis of this pseudo-religion, is that The Voice should be used as part of a meditation suite.”

“They think there is something sacred about the wind?”

“Yes, and that is why most of Klimmek’s supplies consist of various types of beans.”

“What?”

“Pass me more beans so I can produce some sacred wind!”

“Oh, haha. Your humour is terrible.”

“Lady Kynareth will not tell the Greybeards they are wrong. The Nine generally accept any form of devotion as long as it doesn’t harm others. If the Greybeards started killing non-believers, Lady Kynareth would object.”

“The Way of The Voice might be bullshit, but it is harmless bullshit. Therefore, it is tolerated.”

“That is my interpretation, and I don’t profess to speak for Lady Kynareth on this matter.”

“You must practice great restraint when speaking to The Greybeards.”

“It is not my place to convince them their beliefs are misguided. However, I will not stay silent if they judge me or my actions based on The Way of The Voice. Ulfric Stormcloak was one of their acolytes for ten years. When he inherited the position of Jarl and returned to Windhelm, he soon realised their teachings could not survive the real world. The Greybeards have never lived below and probably refuse to consider that fact. I have no doubt they blame some weakness in Ulfric’s character, not the weakness of their dogma, for his misuse of The Voice.”

“Do you have any respect for The Greybeards?”

“I have tremendous respect for them. They have chosen a way of worship and sacrificed all to practice it. It harms nobody and shows a level of commitment few religious orders replicate. However, I demand reciprocal respect. They have no right to judge me when The Divines and myself are my harshest critics and the only ones qualified to render such judgment.”

“Please. Do not fart when we are with The Greybeards. If you do, I might have to kneel and praise Lady Kynareth.”

“Why fart and waste it when you can belch and taste it?”

“Eww! Anyway, what do the Greybeards eat?”

“They love soup! They can dip their beards into the soup and suck on it later. They call their beards, ‘Flavour Savers’”

“Why do I bother?”

“It must be gobbledegook. We know you do it, but not why.”

Reaching the next Emblem was a bit of a challenge for Rigmor. Fatigue was setting in, despite the dweomer on her armour.

I assured her, “We are almost there, Rigmor. Only two more Emblems after this one. High Hrothgar will soon come into view.”

Rigmor read the Emblem.

• Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned
• The 17 disputants could not shout Him down
• Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World

I explained, “Seventeen militant Tongues challenged Jurgen to prove their aggressive use of the Thu’um was superior to his peaceful teachings. During the three-day battle, Jurgen stood his ground and absorbed the shouts of all seventeen disputants. Recognising Jurgen’s immense, undeniable power and their own exhaustion, the disputants yielded. They subsequently travelled with him to The Throat of the World, where they joined his teachings, built High Hrothgar and founded the Greybeards.”

 “That did not prove his claim that the Thu’um was created for peaceful use.”

“No, it did not. Father says the Greybeards will use their full strength to test me. They are capable of levelling cities, yet I will absorb their Thu’um by standing still and doing nothing. Jurgen would have used a Shout called ‘Become Ethereal’. He defeated the seventeen by using The Voice, not standing and doing nothing. I was sent flying several times during the fight in Solitude, and none of the dragons had a Thu’um as powerful as mine. The idea that Jurgen withstood the Thu’um of seventeen others is ludicrous.”

“You will absorb the power of The Greybeards without using The Voice.”

“Yes, yet without the use of The Voice for violence, I cannot defeat Alduin or his allies. Father would not have won the Battle for Old Hroldan without using The Voice. All Jurgen’s trial proved was that you can use The Voice to make yourself immune to Shouts.”

“If you were to use The Voice against the New Order invaders, would that be deemed a ‘True Need’?”

“I will put it this way. If an enemy threatened the Greybeards and High Hrothgar, they would not defend themselves or their home without using The Voice as a weapon.”

“You think they do not interact with the world because they know their philosophy cannot withstand reality.”

“As proven by Ulfric Stormcloak. All that talk of pacifism vanished when he was presented with a chance to murder High King Torygg.”

“Would they help defend Skyrim and Cyrodiil against the New Order or Nirn against Alduin?”

“No. Like others, they have a valid reason for remaining neutral during the civil war. However, hiding behind the dogma of their made-up religion is not a valid excuse for their failure to protect the innocent.”

On the way to the ninth Emblem, we came upon a small casket. I put my hand near it, and recognised the presence of Lady Azura.

“Rigmor, please close your eyes. Promise me that you will not peek.”

“I am trusting you not to do a trick or something gross, Wulf.”

“I am guessing what is in the casket. If I am right, it will be an interesting gift for you.”

“Okay.”

I opened the casket and retrieved a rose that was larger than it.

“Hold your hand out, palm up.”

Rigmor did as asked, and I placed the rose in her palm.

You can look now.

Rigmor looked at the rose and gasped.

“It is beautiful, Wulf. But how did it fit in that small casket?”

“Can you feel anything strange about the rose?”

“No.”

“It is a gift from Lady Azura. I have another one that I retrieved from a Temple of Azura near Rose’s camp.”

“Why would Lady Azura give me a gift?”

“I think she has involved herself in your affairs, Rigmor. Via Baa’Ren’s seers and likely other ways.”

“But why?”

“I do not know.”

“Please, put the rose somewhere. I find it beautiful, but do not like the idea of a Daedric Prince showing interest in me.”

I placed the Rose in Cethnelor, and we continued to the ninth Emblem.

High Hrothgar came into view.

Rigmor observed, “That is a bit underwhelming. It makes Castle Dour look, well, less dour.”

“You noticed Castle Dour while avoiding death by dragon?”

“I was smashed against its walls and doors enough times. So yeah, I took the time to stare with hate at the solid object that kept getting in the way.”

“I have read that everything inside is a shade of grey.”

“Why?”

“Dunno. Perhaps the Greybeards like to play hide and seek, and it aids in their hiding.”

“What do they do all day? Apart from contemplate their belly buttons like Jurgen.”

“They study the meaning of Words of Power.”

“The excitement must be overwhelming.”

Rigmor asked, “Is that one of the portals you rebuilt?”

“I asked Vayu to organise this one. It is not yet active. I did not want to get this close to the Greybeards.”

We approached the ninth Emblem. There was a statue of Father behind it.

Rigmor noted, “That sort of looks like Lord Talos.”

“The one I commissioned in Solitude is a better likeness.”

“I was not smashed against that by a dragon, so did not notice.”

Rigmor recited the Emblem.

• For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name
• Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar
• They blessed and named him Dovahkiin

I explained, “They didn’t bless Father as a god can. They blessed him as I might say, ‘May the Divines smile upon you.’ He was already called Dovahkiin. The name came with the Dragonborn blessing from Lord Akatosh. They did bestow Father other titles, which is why I will be a good boy and not tell them how I really feel. I want those titles as they may have a use in the future. Let’s move on, for I am eager to finish this.”

We stood before the tenth and final Emblem which Rigmor read aloud.

• The Voice is worship
• Follow the Inner Path
• Speak only in True Need

There was a surge of Magicka.

“What was that?” Rigmor asked.

“Because you read all ten Emblems, you are protected by Kyne’s Peace for a day.”

“But you have a permanent blessing.”

“Not everybody does the 7000 Steps with a Ningheim Dragonborn.”

“I dunno why not. They are cheap enough.”

“We are supposed to follow the Inner Path.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your intestinal tract. All the way to your anus.”

“Wulf!”

“I dunno, it is Greybeard mumbo-jumbo, and I am not inclined to ask them.”

We approached a large chest. Loose donations were scattered around it. I opened it, deposited Klimmek’s sack of supplies and closed it.

I told Rigmor, “I delivered the supplies as a favour for Klimmek, not because I think the Greybeards deserve them.”

Before entering, I turned to Rigmor.

“You are to find a place where you can observe. Do not say a word to the Greybeards.”

“Okay, I understand. Be a quiet little girl and do not talk to the grownups.”

“Good girl. I might buy you a dolly if you behave.”

“I will bite you.”

“Promises, promises.”

We entered and were instantly underwhelmed by the architecture.

Rigmor whispered, “I thought there would be a statue of a belly button, not Lady Kynareth.”

“Corner, quiet. Remember?”

Rigmor headed for a bench on the far right of the room. I stopped about twenty feet in and waited for the Greybeards to approach. I knew only one of them could modulate his voice to talk.

Arngeir said, “So, a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.”

“This dragonborn has been on Nirn for twenty-two years, Master Arngeir. Yesterday was the first time I used The Voice on Nirn.”

“We will see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice.”

I used a single Word Unrelenting Force Shout. That was enough to stagger the Greybeards. Although they tried to disguise their surprise, it was obvious they were not prepared for the strength of my Thu’um.

I met Arngeir halfway as he slowly recovered.

“Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar.”

“Thank you, Master Arngeir.”

“Now, tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?”

“To learn what I can about the Dragonrend Shout, the Elder Scroll used by the Ancient Tongues, and to speak to Paarthurnax.”

 “Where did you learn about Dragonrend?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. For matters of such gravity, we need to know where you stand. Or who you stand with.”

“I stand with the mortals of Nirn, whom I am duty-bound to protect as Champion of The Divines.”

“Was it The Blades? They specialise in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?”

“Are you so isolated from the real world below that you have no idea who I am? I am Lord Wulf Welkynd, Grandmaster of the Dragonguard. Many Dragonguard were once Blades who left for Akavir after the White Gold Concordat made them outlaws. Part of their oath states, ‘I shall defend dragonkind when they seek peace, oppose them when they prey upon mortals, and judge each by deed, not by fear, tale, or blood.’”

“Dragonborn, forgive me.”

“Can you assist me?”

“Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu’um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn. When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons.”

“Master Arngeir, I am honoured by the offer to impart knowledge. However, I would not have you spend your breath teaching me what I already know.”

Arngeir’s brow tightened, though he did not interrupt.

I continued, “I can read, write, and speak the dragon tongue. Zu’u mindok Dovahzul. Zu’u tinvaak ahrk pel. I know hundreds of Words of Power, and dozens of Shouts.”

“From whom did you learn these things?”

“Lady Kynareth, other Divines, and several dragons including Silah, a Jill currently circling above, enjoying the thermals.”

“I would hear more of this, especially your claim about Lady Kynareth.”

“Alduin returned a while ago. Several days ago, he restored his lieutenant, Odahviing. Odahviing has been travelling Nirn collecting Dov allies. Yesterday, Alduin destroyed Helgen. The Dragonguard saved many lives, but that town is no more. Yesterday, another dragon, Mirmulnir, attacked the Western Watch Tower near Whiterun. Several Dragonguard, including the young lady sitting over there, plus a dragon ally, Krahzunmaar, helped me defeat Mirmulnir. You would have detected my use of The Voice several times during the fight. Still, you did not summon me till I directed a full-strength Unrelenting Force towards High Hrothgar. This morning, nine dragons attacked Solitude. Once again, the Dragonguard saved many lives. Six of the nine attacking dragons were killed. Silah and Nahfahlaar aided us in the battle. You would have detected my Thu’um dozens of times, so I fail to see why you think I need training.”

“We have always assisted those with Dragonblood.”

“The Divines knew the Dragonborn Prophecy was close to its final stage. Whiterun’s Court Wizard and a hidden Blade also realised that fact. I was sent to Skyrim by The Nine to await Alduin’s return and stop him. I have spent decades training in all manner of skills, not just The Voice. I do not have time for games, Arngeir. Not when dragons are killing the mortals I am supposed to protect. Not when Alduin is consuming souls in Sovngarde.”

“Then how can we assist?”

“You will not know Dragonrend, for the Tongues who invented it cannot remember it.”

“Correct, the Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice.”

“And why is that?”

“It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin’s Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. To learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself.”

“I know Shouts you have never heard of. Shouts that bring random death from the sky, as Alduin used at Helgen. Shouts that can cause death and destruction on a massive scale. Lady Kynareth taught me these Shouts, and I am as far from evil as you could imagine, Master Arngeir. But I am not here to debate the merits or otherwise of your beliefs. However, refrain from measuring me by standards that are not applicable. I answer to The Divines and my conscience. They are far better judges of character than any other source.”

“I am finding it difficult to believe such aid has come from Lady Kynareth.”

“There is a room; I can feel its presence, in High Hrothgar that has been there for millennia. No Greybeard has been able to enter it, for Lady Kynareth has used a Blood Seal. That Blood Seal prevents anybody who does not have a dragon’s soul from entry. There is a shrine beyond that door, similar to others I have used, that allows Lady Kynareth to pass on knowledge, like you planned to do with your tests, no doubt. That Divine will help me focus my Thu’um, for there are no more Shouts, apart from Dragonrend, for me to learn.”

“Yes, there is such a door, Dragonborn.”

“I am not like other dragonborn, Master Arngeir. I am not a novice who has to learn the fundamentals. During the Dragon War, mortals suffered before they could learn The Voice. They continued to suffer while Paarthurnax guided their learning. This time, The Divines have prepared a weapon against Alduin. That weapon is me. I do not need training. I need to find out how the Tongues defeated Alduin. I need to learn that quickly, so we are not fighting battles in cities and towns and villages and witnessing the deaths of many.”

“Very well. The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller lies in Ustengrav. That place may contain inscriptions, echoes, or older teachings no longer preserved here. Jurgen’s tomb has not yielded all its silence.”

“That is worth some time investigating. Thank you, Master Arngeir. Do you want Jurgen’s horn?”

“It would be a great service to us if you retrieved it, Dragonborn.”

“Then consider it done. We shall leave for Ustengrav within the hour.”

“Sky above, Voice within.”

“Blessings of The Divines, Master Arngeir.”

I walked over to Rigmor.

She said, “You wrestled with a need to shout ‘bullshit’”

“You did not pick that up from Tirlineth.”

“I can read you like a book, Dragonbum.”

“I could shoot down The Way of the Voice multiple ways, but that is not my right nor my purpose. However, he was trying to force the Greybeard moral code upon me.”

“I know little about The Voice, apart from what you have taught me. But the idea that learning a Shout can make you evil is nonsense.”

“Come, I have been curious about what Lady Kynareth has installed for my use.”

I led Rigmor to the entrance, even though I had never entered High Hrothgar till minutes ago.

I took off my gauntlet and cut across my palm.

I then pressed my hand against the door.

There was an audible click, and the doors swung open. They closed again after we entered.

Torches and braziers automatically lit and illuminated a long corridor.

A room with a single bed also had an unflattering shrine of Father.

Rigmor asked, “Where is the serpent?”

“I do not know, but I am glad it is not included. Father dislikes this representation of him.”

“Is the shrine active?”

“Yes.”

Further down the corridor was Kynareth’s shrine.

Rigmor commented, “I like the one the Greybeards have, but this is nice as well.”

“This is more a representation of the old Nord god, Kyne, than Lady Kynareth.”

“What do I do?”

“Just stand quietly while I open my mind to Lady Kynareth.”

The Divine is one of the few beings I drop my mind block for. That was necessary for her to teach me the Words of Power and Shouts.

“Valdr, your focus improved dramatically today.”

“I would prefer it not to be at the expense of so many lives.”

“The Nine think Alduin expended a lot of his assets attacking Solitude. If you act quickly, you may stop him before another such attack on a city.”

“I will try, Lady Kynareth.”

“Are you being polite to my Greybeards?”

“I am trying, Lady Kynareth.”

“I know you respect their dedication to their beliefs.”

“It is admirable.”

“You and the Dragonguard did well today. The Nine are pleased.”

“We are doing what we can.”

“There is somebody else in your mind, Valdr. A young woman.”

“That would be Rigmor.”

“Ahh, the Tirlineth. It is fascinating.”

“I do not want to be rude and slam the door, Lady Kynareth.”

“I apologise. I did not intend to probe further, despite my curiosity.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Farewell for now, Valdr.”

My connection to Lady Kynareth ended. I could feel a slight increase in the focusing of my Thu’um.

I summarised my conversation with Lady Kynareth for Rigmor.

She then said, “I want to see what Farengar saw. I want to see the other part of Valdr Septim.”

“Okay, follow me to the courtyard.”

When we entered the courtyard, I pointed to the summit.

“That is where I shall take you, but only after I meet with Paarthurnax.”

“When will that be?”

“Soon. We shall visit Jurgen Windcaller’s tomb. Then, depending on what we find there, Delphine the Blade deserves a visit. She might have useful information. She might know from where useful information might be retrieved. She is likely in contact with other Blades.”

We moved to an area with more space.

“Are you ready?”

“How scary will you be?”

“Visually, I am terrifying. But nothing changes about who I am or what my values are. I shall use a Fire Dragon form, which means any fire-based Shouts will be stronger than in my mortal form. I can take on many different forms, depending on what Shouts I want to improve.”

“I am ready.”

I used a Shout to start the process, then willed myself into the Fire Dragon form.

Rigmor stared at me and then said, “Tirlineth tells me my Wulf stands before me. But there is more aggression. A willingness to kill that is not normally present. You hate killing but not in this form.”

I replied in a deep and guttural voice, “My dragon soul dominates this form. The aggression and lack of compassion are always there, Rigmor, but they are suppressed when in mortal form. That is why I call this my Feral Form, for it is untamed and wild.”

“Can you use other Shouts other than fire-based ones?”

“Yes, but they are no stronger than in my mortal form. I can rend an opponent to shreds in seconds with claws and teeth, but they do not do as much damage as my katana. I find little use for this form, although I can run much faster and jump much higher.”

“Can you show me your dragon form?”

“Yes, but I cannot transition between the two. I will need to change to my normal form first.”

I willed myself back to mortal form.

I explained, “I can also change into different dragon forms, depending on which element or Shouts I want improved.”

“Can you fly as fast as a dragon?”

“I will be a dragon, Rigmor. I can use Magicka to change into a Khajiiti or Orsimer or any other two-legged mortal form. When I do so, only the most powerful mages can detect the Ningheim true form. When I change to a dragon, that is precisely what I am, and no mortal can detect the Ningheim true form.”

“Have other dragonborn been able to change into a dragon?”

“Some Tsaesci dragonborn can, but they do it by entrapping a dragon’s soul and using its body. It is a form of enslavement and abhorrent to me. I am using my blood and soul to transform my body. I am the first dragonborn who can do it this way.”

“What kind of dragon will you change into?”

“Just a generic one for this demonstration. Now, I need to step back and make some space; otherwise I might squish you.”

I stepped back a few paces then willed myself into dragon form. The Thu’um was used, but no Shout. It is likely the Greybeards could detect this use of the Thu’um, so I have never done it on Nirn.

Rigmor turned her head, exclaiming, “Your breath is really bad!”

“That is interesting. I wonder why?”

“Unlike your Feral Form, there is no desire to kill. No aggression.”

“In this form, I am still your cuddly, handsome, Wulf.”

“Yeah, right. Pffft!”

“Brace yourself. There will be a downdraft when I lift off. I have been looking forward to this, as I could not fly around Aethsela.”

“Not without knocking over everything! Although that place is quite big.”

Two powerful flaps lifted me off the ground. Rigmor barely managed to avoid falling on her backside.

I rapidly climbed higher than the summit, but it would be foolish to remain in dragon form for long. It invited attack, and I am not skilled in aerial combat.

I landed and willed myself into mortal form.

I stood close to Rigmor and brushed her cheek.

I asked, “Do you still love me, Rigmor Ragnarsdottier?”

“Wulf, I have accepted who you are. Your weirdness is part of who you are. Turning into a dragon with bad breath is something you can do and part of your weirdness. It is part of the package, so to speak.”

I resisted the urge to kiss Rigmor. It was another step we were not ready for. Brushing her cheek would have to suffice.

“We shall stop at Aetheron to recruit a squad. If Lydia is healthy, she shall be part of the squad.”

“How far is Ustengrav?”

“It is a fair walk across the marshland northeast of Morthal. There are a few bandit gangs and vampire hideouts in the area.”

“What about Ustengrav? Is it going to be like Dark Falls Barrow?”

“That depends on whether or not grave robbers have gutted the place. I expect Draugr will be our main opponents.”

“I can do it, Wulf. I can be with you for hours to come.”

“I know you can, Rigmor. But you will eventually need to sleep, and I will have to proceed without you while you rest.”

“Can we please hurry to Aetheron? I need to use the privy, and I do not want to use the Greybeards one.”

“But Rigmor, you would be supplying them with holy wind!”

“Wulf!”

I laughed, then teleported us to Aetheron.