Druthza
I awoke surprisingly early the next morning, slowly rising into consciousness as my ears were met with an eerie silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. The only noises that I could hear were my breathing, the creak of the bed as I shifted slightly, and the crackling fire pit in the common room. I strained my ears to pick up any other possible noises, like footsteps or muffled voices, but turned up with nothing.
The inn was practically empty, its only inhabitants being me and, possibly, the innkeeper and her daughter, who I'm certain slept in another part of the inn. I opened my eyes and rubbed them clear of the blur that always plagued my sight after waking up. I slowly sat up, letting out a yawn as I stretched my arms over my head, cracking my neck before shifting my position so that my legs now hung over the side of the bed. I took a moment to simply allow my brain to kick itself into a more conscious state. I sat there silently for a minute or so, staring into Oblivion before I looked towards the nightstand.
My belongings were still present where I left them, which made me internally sigh with relief whilst I grabbed the armor I had put aside last night, quickly putting it back on before grabbing my iron sword and sheathing it. As I slipped my septim pouch back into my bag, I briefly took out my map and examined its contents in the semi-darkness. I trailed a claw along the inky blue line that represented the White River, tracing its length and wondering where else it flowed.
It appeared to start from a massive lake southwest of Riverwood, trailed down to the mentioned village, then swerved around the massive mountain present to the east where it would then start to branch off towards other parts of Skyrim. The river forked and curved around a bit of land further to the east, an area speckled with pools of water and almost entirely encompassed by mountains. My curiosity had begun to flare up as I began to ponder the possibility of following the river down to that stretch of land, my tail wagged a little in response, for I always enjoyed wandering off the beaten path to new locations yet to be seen by mine eyes.
I then rather roughly tapped a claw against the parchment, in the general area of the mountain-encircled land, watching as that icy-blue arrow manifested where my claw had touched the paper, and I still wondered to myself: what enchantment is that?
As I rolled the map up and slipped my bag onto my back, I got to my feet, cringing as the bed creaked from my movement. I then, as quietly as a Saxhleel could, made my way out of the room, watching my step as I hurried down the stairs. The warmth of the flames swirling in the fire pit reached out for my scaly form as I approached it, welcoming the heat with a small, tired smile. After warming up, I approached the Bannered Mare's door and opened it, stepping out into the moonlit streets of Whiterun, shivering slightly as a brisk breeze slipped by.
I doubted that any normal inhabitant of Skyrim was awake at this hour of the morning, except maybe the guards, but they don't count. The streets were awfully quiet, and with them only being lit by the braziers and the two moons (Masser and Secunda) it was, admittedly, a bit unsettling. I silently made my way to the entrance of Whiterun, and upon making my way outside of the city's walls, I nearly had a heart attack as one of the guards cleared his throat.
I looked to the Nord who had made the noise, and he looked at me. "Ah, you're the Argonian that the Jarl has spoken about. I must say, it's not every day that an outlander such as yourself is seen aiding us Nords with our affairs. But, I suppose this time it's different, considering the dragon situation at Helgen."
"I think so..." I mumbled, stifling a yawn. I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, it was way too early for me to be conversing with other living beings. But then again, it's also way too early for someone like me to be awake... "now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of..."
As I trudged off into the chilly night, I heard the man murmur a "good luck" under his breath, and I inwardly smiled. Using the moonlight, I examined my map, finding the little waypoint I had set for myself. Let's see... hmm, this might be a bit of a trip, I realized, I have some distance to cover before I get there. Luckily, I have time to waste, and that Dragonstone quest can wait a while, because I've still got to prepare myself for THAT journey too. I imagined the icy gales clawing at my clothing as I struggled up the snowy mountain, and I could almost feel the frost sweeping over my scales and dulling my senses as the cold sank in.
Shaking away the thought, I set my focus back on my current journey, walking the cobblestone path which led me away from Whiterun, past the stables and the farms, and I eventually came upon the Honningbrew Meadery and the crossroad. There was a bridge on my left that led to the north, the path to my right led back to Riverwood, and the bridge in front of me continued onward, which leads me in the right direction, I thought. If I crossed this bridge, I'd be able to follow the river and, eventually, reach my waypoint.
After about an hour of following the river, I had to stop for a break, seating myself on a rock whilst trying to ignore the lingering chill in the air. The sky was quite vivid tonight, the blanket of cosmic majesty above my head was decorated with twinkling diamonds, rippling ribbons of many colors, and two fascinating crescent moons, which vaguely reminded me of a Dovah's gruesome talons.
I sighed at the thought of the dragons. Such a wonder to me... so rich in lore, so powerful, so... eccentric. I felt a smile playing about my lips as a daydream sprang to life inside my head, causing me to shut my eyes and embrace my mind's creation.
I now was standing face-to-face with a green dragon, a Blood Dovah to be specific, I could tell by its various and unique facial features, the sail on its back, and its overall color scheme. The dragon's eyes were a gorgeous goldenrod color, as if Akatosh himself had captured sunlight and fire, putting them into this Dovah's eyes, which also carried a faint glow to them. Its gaze was stern, yet curious, and deep down, I could see... something more as I got closer. Looking past the stoic expression and into those beautiful yellow depths, I saw what I could only assume to be a glimpse into this dragon's soul--
"Oomph!" I exclaimed, snorting with dissatisfaction as my daydream abruptly dissipated into nothing. I had leaned too far forward on the rock I was using for a seat, causing me to fall face-first into the dirt, my tail sticking up in the air. I slowly picked myself up, wiping the dirt from my armor and my face before seating myself back on the rock again, still not quite done with my break.
But sadly done daydreaming... for now, at least. Despite being a lovely figment of my imagination, that Dovah was... quite beautiful, its gaze was so full of emotion...
I wonder if anyone in Tamriel's history has ever had a dragon as their companion...
I then abruptly snorted. Of all the things I've read about the dragons and their interactions with mortals, none that I've read ever mentioned a Dovah and a mortal being on friendly terms, at least, not in the way that I'm thinking.
My way of thinking about a friendly Dragon/Mortal relationship involved each one fiercely protecting the other, leisurely flights across Skyrim, and a heck of a lot of typical conversation that normally wouldn't be done between a dragon and a mortal. Imagine a Dovah talking about the most mundane of things, like just how cold the winds can be up above Skyrim, or how tasty a mouthful of fish was... it honestly sounded quite far-fetched, even for my vivid mind.
And yet, there was always that one part of me that questioned everything: what if it was possible? What if what I was thinking wasn't as insane as it sounded?
I scratched my head in contemplation, but decided to not think about this topic any longer as I watched my breath drift from my nostrils in short-lived clouds of steam. I sighed, looking skyward as I once again marveled at the heavens. "Well, there's one perk of being up extremely early: I get the pleasure of stargazing as I travel," I commented to myself, "but the one major downside is just how cold it is..."
I certainly wasn't going to be swimming in the river at this hour despite it being a faster way of travel for me, I'd more than likely fall ill if I did. Instead, I would either keep close to the riverbank or stick to the path before me, only really interacting with the river itself when I needed a quick drink. I then looked at my map, finding the little white arrow that symbolized me. I noticed that I was a little over halfway to my set waypoint, and as I turned my head I could see what appeared to be two stone towers in the distance, connected by a sturdy stone bridge that stretched across the river. I also took notice of a few distant deer trotting along the left riverbank up ahead, which made me wonder unexpectedly: "what does venison taste like...?"
Before I could slip into a slew of mouth-watering thoughts that made me inexplicably hungry, I got up from my seated position and proceeded down the road, humming a tune under my breath to chase away the silence that followed me. I have never been one for prolonged silence, for if it lingered too long, I became uneasy. I have grown used to having others around me, someone to talk to when the quiet finally swept in at night.
I suppose what I'm trying to explain is: I've grown accustomed to not being alone, and now that I was traveling alone in a province I knew little about geographically, I was beginning to get a tad nervous. As I approached the towers, I could see a small campfire burning outside the nearest one, with what appeared to be a cooking pot situated over the flames. This caused my pace to quicken as I desired to get warm... and perhaps get a taste of whatever is in that cooking pot, if anything, for my sad excuse of a meal last night was really only meant to hold me over until today.
Which was right now. Which meant I was hungry. Upon coming closer to the crackling fire, I then took notice of a human figure leaning against the doorway of the tower, her eyes glittering in the light of the flames as she took notice of me. She appeared to be dressed in armor made of various animal furs, and strapped to her waist was a sheathed dagger.
The Nord bandit approached me once I was within earshot, "you there- this here's a toll road, see? You're gonna have to hand over, say... 200 gold if you want to use our road." She explained, holding out her hand to me. "C'mon, hand it over, Argonian."
I scrunched my snout up at her, "look here, stranger: I've got places to be, I'm not in a very talkative mood, and I don't even have enough gold to give you. Now please get out of my way." I stated, about to walk past her when her arm shot out in front of me, keeping me from advancing any further. "I'll only demand this of you one last time: hand over your gold, and I won't slit your throat."
I then suddenly unsheathed my sword, the cold iron blade now resting up against the woman's throat as I yanked her closer to me, my eyes narrowed. "And I will only demand this of you one last time: get. Out of. My. Way." I snarled, baring my fangs.
The Nord woman froze, and I could practically feel as her heart began to pound out of fear for her life, and the bandit glared at me. "By the Eight- fine. You can go. Just don't let me catch you using this road again, or else your scales will be making me a fine suit of armor. Understand?"
"Right... but who, right now, has a blade at their throat, hmm?" I asked, a little smirk tugging at my lips as her gaze became a harsh glare. I then let go of her, sheathing my weapon before stomping away, a tinge of agitation plaguing my expression. Damn bandits, don't they have anything better to do?
Oh wait... no, no they don't.
And without so much as another glance at my map, I continued eastward.
. . .
The sky had begun to lighten as the sun started to rise, its golden rays sweeping across the land as I came upon a fort. At first, it seemed to just be an imposing structure with no inhabitants to be seen, but as I curiously walked closer, I had seen the distant form of a black-robed individual patrolling the upper part of the fort. I squinted to get a better look before mentally deciding that I didn't currently want to engage with anyone, instead returning my gaze to the bridge that went over the river up ahead, which had itself a raging waterfall to not only add to the scenery, but it brought with it a loud, churning rumble that nearly drowned out the other noises around me.
As I crossed the bridge I was met with two different paths: the cobbled road which continued out towards civilization (and what looked to be a little settlement,) and a dirt path leading up the hill. I, for one, was looking forward to seeing what I could find, and so- up the hill, I went.
There wasn't much that I found on the way up, but with where the path was leading, I kept going, finding myself heading toward a series of waterfalls. The churning, rumbling roar of the water was enticing to my ears as I approached them, and once I was close enough to the water, I found a rather rocky area with a collapsed pillar on the ground. A second pillar with a burning stone brazier mounted to it stood beside a rather ancient-looking doorway carved into the rocks, the iron doors were about as dark as ebony ore, with intricate designs carved into them.
"Huh... that's intriguing," I muttered to myself, "where does it lead, I wonder?"
Only one way to find out...
Taking in a deep breath, I drew my iron sword, squared my shoulders, and proceeded to push open the iron doors, both wary and curious about what I'd find on the other side.