Outgrowing Skyrim

Maybe I should have listened. Waking up the next day I realize my abs are gone and in their place is some definite chub. My gluttonous behavior aside, is gaining weight supposed to be this fast? I’m still relatively skinny looking but damn I’ve only been here three and a half days. Maybe dragon souls are fattening somehow?

 

I’ve collected everything I think I need for High Hrothgar, and now I only have one thing left to do. I need to go to Dragonsreach and make sure the Jarl is ready for dragon attacks in my absence. I don’t think I’m particularly amazing or anything but I need to make sure Whiterun will be fine without me, on the assumption that this world is more organic than not. I’ve come to the conclusion that this world is, for me right now at least, real. I don’t know how to square that with the obvious parallels to my customized Skyrim but a simulation of this level would have been centuries in the making from my previous time. Even if the world is somehow artificial there's no point in acting otherwise. It won’t help, I can’t scream my way out or access a menu. I’m trapped like a rat.

 

A rat with wild privileges and powers while inside her cage. The guards of Dragonsreach don't even bat an eye at my approach, the door already open before I even cross the bridge. A line of petitioners already fill the hall in this morning hour, ending almost to the door. Well this is going to be a long day. I join the line, mentally preparing myself to be here as long as possible. The fate of Whiterun could be at stake if the dragons raid the city. Countless lives are depending on me to protect them. One dragon alone could set the city ablaze and leave without a scratch. I have to wait in this insane line no matter how long it takes. The Greybeards should be fine for another day anyway.

 

It takes an entire hour just to crest the first staircase and view the place hall properly. Clearly the morning is the worst time to see the Jarl or maybe today is just the special day for public grievances. An annoying Redguard man ahead won't shut up about his cabbage farm a few places in front of me. I can't even see the throne until I make it past the first pillar another thirty minutes later. Now in view I can see Jarl Balgruuf leaning heavily in his throne, bored beyond words and about to be sucked into the floor. He calls for something and a refreshment cup is brought to him almost immediately. He drinks deeply as his steward happily chatters away on his right. To his left Irileth is ever present in his shadow but I think she might be sleeping against the wall. The Jarl finishes his cup with a great sigh and looks over the long line of subjects he has yet to deal with. I visibly see him do a double take when he sees me. I thought he was going to shout at me but he leans over instead to Irileth. They share a few whispered words eyeing me with suspicion before the dark housecarl walks over to my place in line.

 

“And what might you need, hm?” she says, hands on her considerable hips.

 

“I need to speak to the Jarl so I’m waiting my turn.” I say, realizing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being dumb.

 

“You are a Thane of the house, sera. You have a place by Balgruuf's side always, even if it might offend others. The housecarl we assigned you should have clued you in on that. Where is she?” Irileth asks.

 

“I sent her away on a mission. I was going to collect her after this.” I say.

 

“That explains it. Come on then, the Jarl’s been waiting for an excuse all morning.”

 

She doesn’t elaborate further but beckons me to follow. I can hardly disagree, especially since I get to see her lovely backside again. She brings me right to the front of the line cutting off the next petitioner, an old man whose face is obscured by facial hair.

 

“It pleases me to see you again, Dragonborn.” Barlgruuf says as I approach.

 

“It’s good to see you too.” I start. “I’m leaving for High Hrothgar today, but before that I wanted to make sure the city was ready for a dragon attack in my absence.”

 

Balgruuf sighs and leans back in his chair. “That's a question I get asked constantly these days. The guards are constantly on alert to watch the skies and we’ve been building up our water stores to combat the fires that will surely spread. Farengar works on counter measures but until brave heroes drive back these terrors there is little we can do.” the Jarl inhales and sighs yet again. “Many wanted me to keep you. Here in the city. That's why I urged you to go in haste. The destiny of the Dragonborn can’t be delayed by the fears of mortal men. Things will only get worse if we meddle.”

 

“I wasn’t asking a question, my Jarl. Although I am flattered by your words. No, instead I am here to offer counsel against the dragons as someone who has fought them before.” I say, unintentionally matching his speech.

 

“Really? Well that would be welcome.” he says excitedly. “Proventus! Take the names of everyone here now and have them come back tomorrow. This deserves my full attention!”

 

“Yes my lord.”

 

“Now then, what say you we take this upstairs to the war table and get comfortable? I want to hear everything you have to say.” Balgruuf says, leaping out of his chair.

 

Climbing the stairs we see Hrongar is currently studying the map of Skyrim on the table, complete with little flags to note the goings on with the civil war. If I remember right Hrongar was a big supporter of the Empire, but even more than that a restless warmonger. Given his age, if I can judge ages right in this weird world, he would have likely have been a babe while his brother was fighting in the Great War and never got to live out his fantasies of being a soldier with his brother on the front line, leading to his current pent up frustrations over his brothers neutrality. Or I’m reading too much into this and he’s just an angry side character.

 

“Dragonborn!” Hrongar says when he sees me. “What are you still doing here? The Greybeards are waiting for you!”

 

“Even the Dragonborn has to prepare for the journey to High Hrothgar, Hrongar. My Thane and I were just about to discuss a strategy to deal with the dragons in her absence.” Balgruuf says, badly hiding his good mood. 

 

“That's right. Dragons could come at us at any time. I’m sorry for my outburst. I was merely surprised. Anyone else would have gone running after the summons of the Greybeards, but I guess the Dragonborn would know better” Hrongar says.

 

“ Our friend is just as practical as she is mythical, believe me. She has the makings of a fine general that we’ll need in the dark days to come.” Irileth adds, glowing with praise.

 

“Alright, settle down. So tell me-” Balrguuf says leaning down on the table with both hands, “-what did you want to say?”

 

Everyone turns to me expectantly. I walk to the other side of the rectangular war table with all its flags, scribbles and other doodads to buy me some small measure of time. Once I’m facing everyone I take a breath and start.

 

“You’ve likely already heard the tactical side from Irileth so I won’t waste your time there. Find nonflammable cover and shoot. Pure warrior types without the right equipment won’t stand a chance against the breath and it’s not just fire either. Frost as well as many other types of breath have been recorded so flexibility will be key. The dragons are using their native language to shout, which means they only have to change a few words to produce a different effect.”

 

“So a dragon can say anything they want and have it come out as a shout?” Hrongar askes.

 

“Not exactly. It gets complicated but for now just know that fire isn’t the only thing they can do. It does have a weakness that I wanted to share. Irileth saw me use it to fight the dragon earlier.”

 

“I’m not sure I follow.” she says confused.

 

“Restoration spells. Wards more specifically but healing spells can also be very useful. I’m only a novice caster but my Ward never broke once, didn’t you notice?” I say.

 

“I did think it was odd at the time now that you mention it. You don’t look like a mage-” she says looking at my chest, “-but after we learned you were Dragonborn it made sense why you were able to hold your own.” she says thinking.

 

“Maybe. But I think this should work for anybody. I don’t have an extraordinary magicka pool or anything. I have a theory on that. Wards block magic and magical effects. But I don’t think dragon shouts are magical, I think they are real. I think that when I or a dragon shouts we aren’t producing a magical effect but the effect itself. We are willing it into existence with our voice. Not exchanging a spell for magicka.”

 

“That would make some sense. Wards block all kinds of non-magical phenomena with relative ease. If the dragons aren’t casting a fire spell but instead just creating it then and there their shouts might not damage the ward.” Irileth ponders, eyes flashing to conflicts and places decades ago.

 

“That all sounds fine. But how does that help my city?” Balgruuf grumbles, clearly upset that this has turned to mage talk.

 

“If a warrior was taught even the basics of the Restoration school, my Jarl, they would be nearly invincible in the face of a dragon.” I say, getting ready to sell my idea. “It wouldn’t even have to be a large group, a small handful would be more than enough to distract a dragon and protect the population.”

 

“Well I certainly would love to have such a group at my disposal. But that's impossible as it stands now. I’m sorry but we’ll have to find other means to deal with this.” Balgruuf retorts.

 

This is what I was afraid of. Nords are anti mage by default. Only priests are exempt from this and I had hoped their association with the Restoration school of magic would make this easier for me. I’ll need to lean much, much harder on the religious side of things to get anything close to what I want and even then scale it back. A small paladin order (although we’re not calling it that because knights and paladins aren't a thing in Skyrim) could be enough to save the city even if I get eaten. I’ve thought it over before but rejected leading with it because it seemed ridiculous but now I’ve got nothing to lose.

 

“We don’t have a group like that now, but we will in the future.” I add quickly. “I’ve had visions of a holy order here in Whiterun who will fight the dragon threat. Following the voice of the wind these champions will protect the city now and in the future. All we need is someone to lead them as Thane captain. My obligations as Dragonborn prevent me from doing it but someone else in this room can. Hrongar lady Kynareth calls to you now.”

 

Hrongar, like everybody else, looks shocked at my words but honestly there’s no better candidate. He’s got status, martial training and is literally doing nothing but trying to start a fight anyway. Convincing the companions to use magic is literally impossible and any street urchin I pick up will require a stupid amount of resources to get going. Hrongar leading a small group of guards is much more preferable as a start. The only question is if he’ll bite.

 

“What does the goddess ask of me?” Hrongar answers.

 

Phew.

 

“First you must be made ready. Apart from learning the spells of light borne straight from the gods you must also go on a quest that will shape you into the warrior you need to be to start her order as Thane captain.” I start.

 

“I am ready for any test the gods would throw at me.”

 

“Kyne has revealed to me that the Gildergleam has been neglected for too long. It’s to be the symbol of your order in the future, but first it must be restored. The priestess in the temple cannot do it, overwhelmed as she is. Go to her and learn what must be done. I am to accompany you on your first leg of the journey but after that you will go alone.” I say, weaving a beautiful half lie, if I do say so myself.

 

“It will be done. Brother-” Hrongar says, looking at Balgruuf. “-I have waited all my life for this chance and now it's finally here. Will you give me your blessing to go and bring glory to Whiterun?”

 

Balgruuf looks a little bewildered. I can’t help but get a sense that he can tell I’ve been bamboozling everyone but the pace is so fast (and the downsides so low) that he quickly accepts this reality even as Irileth eyes me suspiciously.  

 

“Of course Hrongar. I’m glad the gods have finally revealed your purpose to you. Go with the Dragonborn. Learn what you can and restore the Gildergleam to our fair city.” Balgruuf says, beaming. 

 

“Thank you, My Jarl.”

 

They hug. I feel awkward now.

 

“I think that's everything from me. I’m ready to leave when you are, Hrongar.” I say.

 

“I’m more than ready? Let's move!” Hrongars says.

After leaving Dragonsreach Hrongar almost immediately shook down the priestess for the quest information. The quest is the same as it was in the game. The big tree is sleeping, needs sap from the bigger parent tree to wake it up. Bigger parent tree is actually super powerful and needs a special blade to even hurt it. Said blade is in the hands of hagravens who use it in rituals to sacrifice plant people for parts and what not. Said hagraven nest is conveniently on the way to High Hrothgar. It's like someones thought this all out. 

 

Hrongar is not a bad travel companion, but he is impatient. He refuses to stay in Riverwood for more than a day and I was hoping to extend my vacation there. If I didn’t have legitimate business there I doubt I could have gotten him to stay at all. It is technically possible to reach Orphan Rock, the hagraven nest, in one day but we would have definitely been fighting the hagraven coven in the dark. More important, I think, is getting this meathead to learn the rudimentary spells necessary to be effective against the dragons. He doesn’t seem very… receptive to the idea which is… bad. If he’s not on board then the men he leads won’t be on board which means I’m assembling meat shields but with extra steps.

 

We arrive at Riverwood in the late afternoon. I direct Hrongar to the inn with two spell books to study, saying I'll come by later to check on his progress. He doesn't look happy but obliges. I sneak off after he turns around, not wanting to attract attention from my allies in town, and find a guard to direct me towards the skeever den. It's an old house across the river, nestled at the foot of the mountain. I recognize it as the house I bonked myself on when I was coming back from Bleaks. Relatively intact although the roof needs new thatching before the rot spreads much further. Thanking the guard I summon my familiar and head inside.

 

We are beset by no less than ten skeever rats. They are easy enough to kill but the diseases they carry could cripple me out here. Well more likely make me use my cure disease potion but still I have my familiar tank most of the infected bites which kills the poor pupper but it's not like a spirit is actually dead. After the hoard is taken care of I head to the basement, stealing myself for whatever this broodmother is. On the steps I can't see anything so I light up my surroundings with the spell Candlelight. I jump when I see a large shape retreat into the shadows. I send a Magelight after it, aimed towards the center of the basement.  

 

It's not very pretty. Looking like a cross between a bear and a giant rat. It shrinks back as much as its bloated form allows, not looking malnourished in the slightest. Its grotesque form is only broken by its sheer rotundity. It may not be as malnourished as I thought. Hopefully it's still hungry.

 

I calmly step down, locking my eyes with her beady black ones. Never taking my eyes off her I scan the room for a suitable place to drop my bait. Finding a place next to a ruined dresser I work quickly and drop a massive sack of mammoth cheese as tall as I am there. It's full to overflowing with the disgusting cheese the Companions won't eat. I hold my breath as I open the top flap, exposing the sewer cheese. Damage done I slowly back away and up the stairs.

 

I had to leave most of my extra stuff in Jorrvaskr just to bring the bag. When you go over the weight limit of your inventory you don't just lose the ability to run, gravity gets heavier with every pound. I left behind all of my books and any extra weapons I had. 

 

For a while it's quiet. Then eventually I hear the unmistakable sound of the mother munching on the cheese. My evil plan is working. There's no poison in the cheese, I'm working on something different. She eats voraciously, taking only five minutes at most. When the noise quotes down again I descend to shine a light on my prey. Just as I had hoped, the massive cheese has turned the massive rat into a massive blob. Her limbs can no longer touch the ground properly, immobile just as I was told. Her limbs wiggle lazily at my presence but she still turns her head to regard me munching slowly on the leftover leather bag. I fully enter the basement now and get a full unimpeded look at her now. A rat turned water balloon but there's something odd with the balloon part. Looking more closely I can see writhing just underneath the skin, no doubt her brood will be agitated both at the presence of food and a severe lack of space. She looks like she could give birth at any moment now and I have no intention of letting that happen.

 

Red aura dances in my fingers and I unleash it on the fat mother. She lets out a brief squeal but no more than that. I had wondered if the shrink spell was painful but based on her reactions it can’t be much more than uncomfortable. I’m still not very efficient with the spell and it takes several cycles to replenish my magicka during which she calms down even further. Even when she’s reduced to the size of a football she doesn’t seem to mind anymore, pacified by her immense feast. She clearly doesn’t know I’m about to shrink her out of existence, which is what happens with the last cycle. She gets so small so fast that she’s either microscopic or dead. 

 

Well so far the spell works as intended. There are more layers to it but I think I need to gain a better understanding of how the spell works through practice to unlock it fully. This won’t be a problem when I’m on my own but it might be difficult to be alone for a while yet. Still this was a success and it’s time to move on while there's hopefully some daylight. I move towards the stairs when I bonk my head on a lamp.

 

“Ouch,” I say out of habit, my helmet having completely protected me. “Oh shit.”

 

The ceiling is much closer than I remember, so much so that I can touch it now. I must have shot up a head or so taller. As much as I enjoy this new perspective it doesn’t last long. When I look again the ceiling is already starting to get further away and I only have to wait a minute before I’m normal sized again. I’m starting to, if temporarily, retain some of the stolen size just as the mod would let you do on the second phase of the quest. Eventually I should be able to keep and manipulate my size but this is a great first step.

 

I emerge and inform the closest guard that the skeevers have been taken care of. Deviating for this experiment has cost me all of the remaining twilight. Deciding Hrongar will be fine doing… whatever Hrongar does (hopefully studying) I walk towards the Riverwood Trader to check on the twins but mostly pick up Lydia. 

 

I deliberately pass by the smithy and predictably Alvor is outside with Dorthe and I’m invited to stay once more, which I accept. I enjoy telling this family stories, even if I can’t tell them the whole truth sometimes. I decide I’ll try at least to convince them I’m the Dragonborn since a lot of my future stories might not make sense without that crucial tid bit, though I’m not sure they’ll believe it.

 

Lucan is happy to see me as he’s closing up shop. He gives me my pay split and we chat a bit. Lydia has been staying at the tavern and just more or less been patrolling the town with the other guards awaiting my return. The towns been buzzing since their return and the Riverwood trader is more famous than ever. I walk with him towards the inn as we chat but we part ways at the smithy. Promising to see him (but mostly Camilla) tomorrow I say goodbye to Lucan. It's getting late and I don’t need to visit everyone tonight. After another moment I flag one of the guards down to deliver a message to Lydia, wherever she is, that I’ll find her tomorrow morning at the inn. I head inside the smithy’s home where a sumptuous fish pie is waiting for me and a very excited family of three. 

I awake to the sounds of the family getting an early start. Their faces of disappointment are still fresh in my mind as I had to cut the story off just after the dragon broke the Western Watchtower as it was getting too late. They would have burned their own house down but I told them I would be coming back this way again to finish my story and that seemed to calm them down. Breakfast is bread and cheese, a typical fair for the working class here but it's more than good enough. Honey butter also accompanies it, which I'm told by Alvor is only brought out for guests because his wife doesn't think that her family is special enough for butter. That earns him a swift smack and with it Dorthe’s laughter. I say goodbye and earn another hug for promising to return.

 

Lydia and Hrongar are both waiting outside the inn, both impatient but for different reasons. After explaining that I forgot to buy basic foodstuffs (cause I fed it all to a giant rat) I head into the inn to buy basic supplies. After that I run into the Trader to say hello and back out again. Camilla seems really disappointed she won’t be going this time but Lucan agrees with me. Ivarstead, the village at the foot of High Hrothgar, has no real value outside of supporting pilgrims and we’re coming right back through Riverwood anyway. I’m glad to have Lucan’s support on this occasion, Camilla was already dressed in her Imperial leathers and ready to go. I could hardly look her in the eye.

Lydia, Hrongar and I all make it to the ruins of Helgen with little fuss before noon. Orphan Rock is just beyond the ruins up the path to the Rift. When we get to the destroyed settlement the gates are closed and decorated with spikes impaling immolated corpses. 

 

“By the Gods. We'd heard the rumors but to see it for myself…” Hrongar says.

 

“It was bad but dragons didn't do this. Be alert.” I say.

 

The gate is locked but it's not a problem. Simply moving one of the wooden spikes out of the way grants up entry through the dragon size hole not far from the door. We are immediately beset by bandits defending their new turf and my Nord companions are understandably excited after all that waiting. Too excited. I spend most of my time chasing after Hrongar and Lydia chasing after me. Being the filling of this crazy Nord sandwich I hardly see any action myself as the bandits prove less than warriors. One of them flings Sparks after we had passed his hiding spot but Lydia is so impossibly strong that he ran out of mana without my housecarl so much as flinching before he lost his head. 

 

After dispatching their last archer (which I had to race to kill) I convinced my battle frenzied friends to delve further in with me and clear the rest of the bandits out so we can stay the night here after we kill the hags. It wasn’t hard. Inside are more easy prey, at least for my two meatheads, and only their leader is a challenge. By challenge I mean she lasts more than a minute but it does mean I get some real practice with my ax against the forgotten grunts in the back. Dummies are all they were unfortunately and I don't feel like I really got anything out of the encounter. Whoever these people were, they clearly thought the fortress would offer them more protection than it did. Or rather offer more protection than it could with their skills. We loot the lot and make for lunch. The kitchen is bloody and only a little drippy but serviceable as we sit to eat.

 

“Hrongar,” I say munching on a cheese sandwich, “have you made any progress on those spells I gave you?”

 

“No I haven't.” he says with a defiant tone. “With all due respect to you Thane, I don't believe it necessary. If the gods wanted someone who could cast spells I fully believe she would have chosen someone else. No, what they wanted was a warrior, strong and true, unafraid of dragon or giant or any other threat to Whiterun.”

 

“Ok”

 

I'm not arguing. He's either the man for the job or he's not. I'm not here to hold his hand. If he fails then he clearly wasn't worth my limited time. I can always find someone else to try this again with if needed. The whole point of this was to have a low effort (on my part) counter to dragons. If he fails and people die because of it, more will listen to my words and not just pretend like I'm going to fix everything. Because I'm not. Dragons persisted long after Alduin's defeat in-game and they’ll probably persist here too. There were only twenty or so burial sites on the Dragonstone and the Dragonborn definitely fights more than twenty dragons. They aren't just coming back to life, they’re coming off continent.

After lunch and a small break we exit Helgens other gate and march towards Orphans Rock. Hrongar and Lydia both seem to know generally where it is (which is great because everything looks like forest and there are no quest markers) and we find a small path no more than ten minutes away from the gate. Either side of this path is dense with foliage. Even in the game it was hard to spot the witches and now everything's got extra dimension to it.

 

“Be ready to use the trees for cover.” I warn, looking everywhere. “Stick together.”

 

Sure enough not a minute later and a Firebolt whizzes past Lydia's head. Before long fire and ice are flying everywhere and Hrongar splits off into the brush against my advice. Having no idea where he went I take Lydia to deal with the hag flinging fire at us. Following me she easily deals with the dark robed woman once we get in close enough. The moment I’m sure the witch is dead I’m looking around  to get my bearings and can see parts of Orphan Rock, a large pillar of stone with greenery on top of it. An explosion of fire draws my attention to parts unseen and I realize the hagraven must be launching Fireballs at Hrongar.

 

Weaving through the trees we pass the bifurcated corpse of another witch and we find Hrongar on all fours clutching his sword behind a large blackened stump, burnt and bloodied. It looks like he tried to charge up the hill to the camp but was repelled. Another Fireball is hurled at the stump as well as Lighting Bolts and Ice Spikes. It looks like the other two witches are holed up with the hagraven on the safety of the rock. We have no time and I turn to Lydia .

 

“On my signal we go!” I shout over the elemental din. “Grab Hrongar and drag him back into the tree line, understand!?” 

 

“Understood!”

 

“Three, two, one go!!!”

 

We rush Hrongar’s position from the side, surprising the witches before they can shoot at us. Once we’re in position I cast a Ward to cover Lydia and she grabs the barely living Nord. My Ward shatters almost instantly on the witches next barrage but it did what it needed to and we escape into the woods. Once we're sure they aren’t chasing us I assess the damage and try to ignore the pain in my hand.

 

Hrongar is, unsurprisingly, badly burnt but it’s even more painful than that. He has electrical burns and more than one puncture. He's extra damp in those few places, the Ice Spikes embedded into his flesh and melted. I take out three potions and poor them over his tortured form. 

 

“You have my thanks.” Hrongar pants, still reeling from the pain. “What do we do now? The hagraven is too powerful.”

 

“She’s not too powerful, you just need to stop thinking with your sword. If you had mastered either spell I gave you earlier then the witches would be dead by now.” I explain. “Now we have to be extra careful. They will be fully restored by the the time we go back.”

 

“You have my sincerest apologies. I not only ignored you but also the wisdom of the sky. I never was fan of books and used it as an excuse not to try.” Hrongar admits.

 

“We can talk about this later… for now… Lydia, how good are you with a bow?” I ask, massaging my tingling hand.

 

“One of the best in Whiterun, my Lady.”

 

“Excellent. Hrongar and I will approach from the other side of the hill, where there's more cover. Once you hear the spells fall I want you to provide covering fire. You should have a clearer shot from this side of the rock and if we are lucky you might even draw their fire. Resist the urge to run up and help us, your arrows will be much faster than your feet. Any questions?”

 

“No my Lady.”

 

“Sounds good to me.” nods Hrongar.

 

It takes us ten minutes to creep into position but we don't particularly have to be very fast. TIt’s much more important to use the surrounding woods to quietly circle around. The rock itself is like a mini plateau and actually unclimbable from all angles. Only a large dead tree connects it to another hill that's born from the erosion of the mountain it rests upon. We could use the sheer edges of Orphan Rock to our advantage by way of cover except-

 

“There are runes, bear traps and spikes at the base of the rock. I can dispel the runes pretty easy but they might be hard to see with all the foliage. We can either try for that and risk the traps or eat spells as we run to that bolder further up the ramp. What do you think?” I ask Hrongar. 

 

“Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

 

Base of Orphan Rock it is. Mad dashing from the treeline we get about halfway to the rocks before the witches notice us and start flinging spells again. Luckily their firing angle gets rapidly poorer in short order and they miss us completely. Using Sparks I strafe the ground around the base of the Orphan Rock with electricity where I want to step. This is the only way I know how to dispel the traps, although I am certain there are others I never bothered to learn. Two trap rune circles burst in icy fury before us but at a safe distance the traps only remind me of air conditioning with the breeze they generate. Hrongar, having not followed my exact footsteps, triggers a trap and gets the full effect of the cold explosion. Despite now sporting icicles for eyebrows he wears a smile.

 

“Worry not, Nords don’t fear the cold. Had I known this was their trap I would have climbed the rock sooner and been done with this.” he says cheerfully.

 

Don’t do that, I think to myself. Before he can get any ideas I rush to the next safe spot, a rocky outcropping on the ramp up the hill. I only make it a few paces before I hear a snap and feel a bear trap close on my right foot. My armor absorbed most of the impact but I’m stuck while I try to free myself.

 

“Look! There!” cries one of the witches.

 

“Skree!” comes the unmistakable screech of the hagraven.

 

My frantic attempts to free myself fail so I try to awkwardly turn around to cast a ward. As I bend awkwardly I feel a hard impact to my torso. Spit and a little bile leave my face as my liver takes most of the damage. I’ve been tackled and thrown over the shoulder of Hrongar as he carries me like I'm nothing. A fireball obliterates the ground where we just were and smaller spells of thunder and ice chase us up the ramp. A Lighting Bolt splinters the rock as Hrongar baseball slides us behind its cover, low to the ground as it is. We can’t afford to stay for long as the next Fireball proves its heat can reach well beyond the defenses of our meager cover.

 

“Run for that stump! I’ll come out after you make it with a Ward ready! When they fire at me you run in and end them, got it!?” I yell as more bits of rock are blown off in the literal hail of elements. 

 

Hrongar nods and after a deep breath takes off for the stump. There is no cover at the top of the hill save for that massive stump but lucky the witches seem to have the same problem with aim that I do and can’t hit a target that moves sideways. That's little comfort now as the stump will soon be cinders and the only way forward is across the fallen tree that stump made, in a straight line towards the witches. We are going to take damage no matter what we do. 

 

I only wait long enough for Hrongar to get his footing, the tree stump already aflame. Taking a deep breath of my own I charge my Ward and rush the bridge. There are only two witches standing now, Lydia got the third with a headshot to the ear. Like canons the now two hags adjust their aim and fire down the tree length. My ward survives the lighting from the lesser witch but not the Fireball from the hagraven and shatters, leaving my fingers numb and trembling. I charge a Ward with my left hand now and it too shatters in flame but not before Hrongar emerges from behind me through the dissipating flame. He cleaves the first witch from her collarbone down and uses her body, still attached to the greatsword, to block the next Fireball. Hrongar then thrusts forward, body still attached, to impale the hag. His aim is true and the body of the burnt witch falls off like a husk as his sword plunges all the way through the transmogrified raven witch. I think it is all over before I realize that the hagraven is smiling.

 

These are not the same hagravens as in the game. No, like everything else in this world they follow my modifications to the base game and that includes making hagravens sexy. Well more like it attached bird hands and feet to a sexy lady. With raven black hair, bangin’ bod, and luscious lips on a sultry face she's a far cry from the ugly beady eyed hags from the games. At least until she makes her move. 

 

Using all four of her avian limbs she grips Hrongar like a caught fish, plunging her talons deep into his flesh. Hrongar tries to shake her off but even he can’t shake off the bird witch. It’s at this point I remember what hagravens really are and start running. They're witches who’ve sold a portion of their humanity for unnatural powers and bodies. The hag closes in her face to Hrongar’s and for a moment it looks like she’s about to give him a kiss before she moves further up. Wrapping her plump lips around Hrongar’s left eye I hear a sickening *pop* as his eyeball leaves his skull and fills her mouth. Hrongar screams and the hagraven gives a wicked grin, mouth bloody and full, before pushing off of the sword. When she lands the beautiful hag swallows and gives me a bloody smile. 

 

I square off with the bird demoness with my trusty sword and board, ready for whatever she might throw at me. That was a mistake. A burst of light suffuses her being and I realize she just got off an advanced healing spell that doesn’t require channeling. Wasting no more time I thrust my sword deep, too deep, and she parries it with a simple wave of her claw. With her free talons she grasps my arm and goes for a bite at my neck with her shark-like teeth. Having already planned out my next move I bash the hags face with my shield, successfully pulling the demonesses face away from my tender flesh. This only seems to annoy her further and she grabs my shield with unnatural speed and strength, locking it down with one arm. I attempt to slash down with my free arm but her flesh is too tough and my swing can’t even travel halfway down my original intended arch. She grabs my exposed arm and now holding both my limbs starts to peel me open like an oyster. I can see her lick her bloody lips, her eyes intent on my throat. Fuck that.

 

“Fus!”

 

The wave of force is not strong by any measure, good enough only for flinging dishes off a dining table. Still it's not nothing when it's injected right into your sensory organs and even the supernatural hagraven has to release me to cover her face. I don’t even get to capitalize on my success, Hrongar roars past me with a big overhead swing. The hagraven can only cower as the large blade comes down on her in the same arch that shattered the previous witch's collarbone earlier. The demonesses flesh is much tougher, and Hrongar’s sword stops at the top of her collarbone to our dismay. The evil bird woman smiles again and grabs Hrongar’s arm, her bloody teeth in a wide grin. Having seen this earlier I’m already on her and this time slide my blade under her exposed arm, thrusting with everything I have. It sinks in several inches, her flesh is thick and unyielding, feeling like frozen meat. The thrust does the job and even the hagraven has to yield to the pain, stopping her from going for Hrongar’s other eye. She scurries away from us, back to the cliffside and bleeding from under her right arm.

 

A dull thud shocks her out of her panic and as the demoness looks skyward. I can tell she knows she’s been beaten. The light leaves her eyes long before Hrongar’s final strike shatters her collarbone and causes her body to peel away from itself with a discussing fleshy sound. In her back is a well placed arrow from everyone's favorite housecarl

 

Hrongar stands there breathing and bleeding heavily staring at the bisected corpse of the once terrible bird demon. We both take a moment to couch our breath an process. Lydia’s approach rouses us both and Hrongar takes a potion to stop the bleeding. We take our time to rest and loot the hags camp.

 

It takes some serious convincing but I manage to make everyone agree to take at least some of the loot and not just give it all to me. Hrongar finds some cloth for his eye and an orcish greatsword. It’s green and lacks grace but has a rugged charm to it. Lydia finds a steel horned helmet, something I only now realized she didn’t have, and completes her set. It’s horrible and makes her look like a Power Ranger villain but it makes her happy so who cares. I take a whole bunch of mage shit and find a small chest filled with ruined amulets. These are amulets of the Nine Divines, all tarnished and ruined save for two in their own separate compartment. An amulet of Zenithar and one of Kynareth. It's fitting enough and I pass on Kynareth's amulet to Hrongar who accepts it gladly. With the evening sun setting in we head back to Helgen to get some food and rest.

Dinner is a small feast made of our enemies' provisions. We make cheesy breads and roast whole birds and rabbits on the fire. The rich food goes really well with the honey taste of the mead. 

 

“So you’ll be headed to High Hrothgar to see the Greybeards then?” Hrongar asks, much happier now after a few mugs of mead. His hands hardly leave his new amulet, like some kind of stress object. It's tear drop shaped, purple with a bird riding the air currents. A tiny sky blue gem rests inside the bird at the amulets center.

 

“You're coming too.” I say pointing at him. “It’s Kynareth’s sacred mountain and if you’ve never gone then now's the perfect time to go.”

 

“I appreciate the sentiment but if I’ve learned anything from today it's that I’m not ready yet. How am I supposed to fight dragons if even simple hags can best me? I fear those witches will haunt my nights after this. My heart isn't prepared for such a journey.” Hrongar says, cupping his missing eye.

 

“Oh my godsss, listen to me for once.” I say exasperated. “This whole journey from Lady Kynareth was to help make you ready, not to prove that you're worthy. It’s not an accident Orphan Rock was on the way to Hrothgar. You don’t really have to do anything but meditate, you literally can't mess up. You're not going to find a better opportunity to fight off nightmares anywheres and if you’re unhappy with your first trip you can always come back later.” I say while melting into the table, having had just a little mead. 

 

“I think my Lady has had enough to drink.” Lydia says, taking away my next bottle.

 

“You're a drink!” I retort.

I don't remember how I got to bed. I'm woken up by my sudden headache and nausea. An obvious hangover. Holding my head in my hands I feel utter depression at what a failure I am. How can I tell the others that I need a day to recover because I couldn't pace myself? Maybe it won't be so bad if I drink a ton of water now and secretly hide somewhere to recover for the morning…. Or I could just use Healing and feel better almost instantly.  How silly.

 

We all leave Helgen behind after my late breakfast which thankfully no one complains about. We should still be able to make it to Ivarstead before dusk. It's uneventful to say the least. The path through the mountains is narrow and grey with some snow at its highest point. We pass a lone traveler on horseback and some goats before making it to the other side. Spotting an abandoned building just beyond the mountain path we raid what turns out to be an old alchemist shack and fend off a few dozen frostbite spiders, most of whom die running. The only thing interesting there was a butterfly in a jar with some odd runes on the cork lid. 

 

We make it to Ivarstead with twilight to spare. The town is roughly comparable to Riverwood but definitely smaller and bleaker looking. Unlike the verdant valley Riverwood nestled in the grey stones of the mountain give the town a drained appearance with only the river that surrounds it adding any life. We find the inn immediately and get rooms for the night.

The Vilemyr inn is a cozy little inn built much like the Sleeping Giant from Riverwood. It's the default style of inn from the game and I guess having most of the country inns be relatively the same makes them easier to build and maintain. The innkeeper is a pleasant older Nord of little hair and he dotes on his serving girl who is just as pleasant to look at. I don't get very long to look, my companions are understandably eager to leave for the mountain.

 

The town is dominated by the lumber mill we pass, already working in the wee morning hours. By the sounds alone I can tell there's no smithy in town. Just in front of the bridge to High Hrothgar are two men, a Nord and a wood elf engaged in another conversation I've heard a million times. 

 

"On your way up the 7,000 Steps again, Klimmek?” the Bosmer asks. This wood elf is much… browner than the one in Riverwood and shorter too. He's much more representative of his race if I remember right.

 

"Not today. I'm just not ready to make the climb to High Hrothgar. The path isn't safe.” says a lithe Nord with a shaved head and graying beard.

 

"Aren't the Greybeards expecting some supplies?"

 

"Honestly, I'm not certain. I've yet to be allowed into the monastery. Perhaps someday.” 

 

I pause to ponder if there's a way to get something more out of this quest. Before I can even get a coherent thought out Hrongar speaks up.

 

“Apologies but I couldn't help overhearing what you said. If it's alright with you I would be honored to bring the supplies up to High Hrothgar and to the Greybeards.”

 

It's times like these that remind me that Hrongar was raised as nobility, even if it is a rougher sort. He’s perfectly polite and polished when interacting with the locals.

 

"Really? That would be kind of you. Here, take this bag of supplies. At the top of the steps you'll see the offering chest. Just leave the bag inside and you're done.” Klimmek says gratefully.

 

“I understand. I'll make sure the Greybeards get this. Come on times a wastin’.” Hrongar says to us.

 

A great stone bridge lies before us made of the same stone as the mountain. Perhaps the town has a particularly skilled mason hidden away here, the bridge is impressive for a town of this size and a river this rapid. The steps lay at the end waiting for us are even grander and older than the bridge. Made of the same stone but much older the steps are in varying states but most of the steps that are visible are in good condition. Along the path are ten little shrines that we take a moment to read as we ascend. In the game I would have ignored them but I don’t mind reading them now, I could use a refresher.

 

I

 

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.

 

II

 

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

III

 

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

 

 IV

 

Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man

 

Together they taught Men to use the Voice

 

Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue

V

 

Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world

 

Proving for all that their Voice too was strong

 

Although their sacrifices were many-fold

VI

 

With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer

 

Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice

 

Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World

VII

 

The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled

 

Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year

Meditation

 

To understand how Strong Voices could fail

VIII

 

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

 

 IX

 

For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name

 

Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar

 

They blessed and named him Dohvakiin 

 

X

 

The Voice is worship

 

Follow the Inner path

 

Speak only in True Need

 

After shrine five the snow started to become permanent and trouble with it, a pack of ice wraiths descended on us. Malevolent frost spirits that look like snake skeletons made of ice swim all around to attack us. I didn’t need to bother raising my weapons, my Nord companions are the natural bane of such frosty creatures. Their ire was raised by the interruption of this most peaceful of meditative hikes, and Lydia scares me with her ferocity. Thus it should be no surprise when I say the infamous ice troll stood no chance, with my companions being so worked up they threw him and his limbs off the mountain. I was shaking, despite my winter gear. 

 

High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Disconnected from the troubles of the world, even. Like the troll was disconnected from his body.