The Call of the Wind, Children of Kyne, Volume I Options

[Kane]

I just finished up the long volume II of this series, so I thought I'd start posting them both here. This entry is one of my first real stabs at writing out a tale and one of only a couple I ever finished. The dialogue is a little stilted and the chapters are short (needed more practice) so it isn't a long read. If you are interested in reading it, I hope you enjoy! (PS, I'm too lazy to proofread this one and I wrote in 2018, so if there are any spelling or grammar errors, I apologize in advance!)



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Prologue

The morning dew lay gleaming on the lush, green undergrowth of Cyrodiil’s Great Forest as the morning sun shined through the branches of its lofty trees. Deep in the heart of the woodlands, sat a small clearing and at its center lie a large rock, covered in silky green moss. Here upon this stone, sat an impressively large brown hawk - it looked far out of place among the other birds of the province, but it was not without purpose. Sitting as still as the unmoving stone beneath it, a wanderer could have mistaken it for a small statue to some long forgotten god.
Nestling its head into her wing feathers, she waited impassively for her prey. Soon thereafter, a crashing could be heard in the forests nearby. Quite suddenly, a pale, sickly looking Colovian emerged from the dense brush and scampered right through the clearing without so much as a glance at the large hawk.

Craning her neck, she listened for the pursuer she was expecting.

And sure enough, the gentle footsteps of a practiced stalker could be heard approaching the clearing, following the rampant destruction of the woodland left in the wake of the panicked, clumsy runner. The hawk lifted her head and waited for this new, but nonetheless expected visitor.

Ah, I see this predator is much too clever to wander into a forest clearing. The professional that he is knows to avoid such a thing, as it is ripe for ambush. Perhaps a little encouragement is needed…

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The mercenary did not like what he saw ahead. Peering through the bramble, he intensely surveyed the clearing, looking for any sign of an ambush. The vampire he pursued had thus far been crashing through the forest like an ogre, but that may have been a ruse. Vampires, he had always thought, were usually much cleverer than this oaf was.

Hesitating outside the clearing was wasting time, but his instincts were kicked into overdrive as he approached it. Long ago he learned to trust those instincts, and many times they had been the difference between life and death. So there he sat, eyes darting around the forest opening, searching intently for signs of danger.

Quite suddenly, the once calm morning changed as a brisk northern wind began to flow through the woods, rustling the treetops and bringing a slight chill to the air. Our mercenary barely noticed the change in clime, until he heard the whispers on the wind. Startled, he relaxed his eyes, and instead strained his ears to the wind, where he swore a voice had whispered to him. The breeze fluttered once more, and this time he was positive…his name was carried gently on the wind.

Kirin...approach my child. Follow your instincts…and my voice…

Standing up nervously, he shouldered his composite bow, and walked boldly into the clearing. To his utter surprise, the hawk he’d mistaken for a statue hewn above the boulder stretched its impressive wings, and spoke to him with an undoubtedly feminine voice.

“It is time for you to return home, my child. Skyrim awaits you, and your destiny has come. Left behind will be your days of mercenary work and feeble pleasures. They matter not now, and only what you accomplish next will be of any consequence.”

This was unexpected, and temporarily froze Kirin, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. He settled on only one, though.

“And if I refuse?”

“It will matter not. The aspect of destiny is inescapable, and utterly final. Try as you might, it will simply catch up to you later, at a time when you may have less choice in its subtleties. Heed my words, and I promise you will not regret the choice to follow them.”

Kirin pondered on her words once more, and quickly realized what he was dealing with. One should not refuse the finality of the divines… He removed his helmet, and knelt on the grass before the large northern hawk.

“Lady Kyne, I see the wisdom in your words, and I pledge myself and my service to you.”

“Very well, young Kirin. Your time in Cyrodiil is at an end. Return to your fellow brothers and sisters of Skyrim, and your true journey shall begin in earnest.”

She then spread her wings once more, and took to the skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.

This post has been edited by Kane: Dec 10 2024, 03:08 PM

[Kane]

Fire and Darkness

Many years had come and gone since Kirin took the bitterly cold Pale Pass up into the Jerall Mountains, and down into Bruma. The weather hadn’t changed, but he was shocked to find Helgen a smoldering ruin. Memories of enjoying many mugs of Juniper Mead and getting into several bar brawls flooded in as he watched the smoke rise high above the walls. As he approached the northern gate, and immense black being took flight from somewhere in the city and flew east, paying little attention to the Nord standing out in the open.

Mouth agape, Kirin could only think of one thing…that ancient dragon lore didn’t seem much like fairy tales anymore. Eyes closed, he raised his head to the heavens and addressed his new patron.

“Lady Kyne, I see that much more than I expected is afoot in my home land. I only hope that I can rise to whatever occasion is laid out for me.”

A gentle breeze of encouragement fluttered through the area, rustling the leaves around Kirin, and uplifting his spirits. A fitting reminded that Kyne was ever watching over him.

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Sometime later, Kirin knelt beside the ruined body in the midst of Helgen. A small journal had survived the destruction, and the owner had managed to write down a last few words before being consumed in fire. It told of a cave beneath the Keep, and the possibility of survivors. Standing up quickly, Kirin hastened out of town, looking for an entrance to this cave. With the Keep to his right, he scoured the undercliff for any kind of ingress point. Only a few minutes had passed before he found what he was searching for, as Kirin came across a tunnel leading into the rock face.
He ventured forth, soon coming across a large cavern with a small stream babbling gently through it. A ray of light shone down through the rock ceiling, landing right on the injured body of an Imperial soldier. His armor denoted a man of some rank, and he looked to be in bad shape. Just before heading to see if he could help, Kirin spotted another man further in the cave. This time…an injured Stormcloak.

This presented a hard choice for Kirin, but not as hard as one would expect. He’d kept up on news from his homeland while earned a living in Cyrodiil, and knew all about Ulfric’s insurrection. Many days were spent pondering the subject, but in the end, Kirin knew where he stood. He just didn’t expect a need to make that choice so soon upon his arrival.

Grabbing a healing potion from his pack, he went to help the Imperial soldier to his feet.

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Hadvar was a good man, and Kirin felt a sense of kinship with the stout Imperial. The young officer had a good head on his shoulders, and in another life, they may have been good friends. But for now, Kyne had another purpose for Kirin, even if he didn’t yet know what it was.

In the meantime, Kirin set about to do what he did best. Help others to the best of his ability – but no longer as a mercenary. He had pledged to leave that part of his life behind, but his instincts still drove him onward, to some unknown end.

The town of Whiterun was a few hours walk to the north, and Alvor had asked Kirin to take word of Helgen to the Jarl, as soon as possible. Kirin agreed, but something deep inside told him to help out the local shopkeeper first. Thieves had broken in overnight and stolen a rare trinket - some sort of gilded dragon claw. The proprietors, Lucan and Camilla, even knew where the bandits had came from and that helped to eliminate a lot of legwork. Deciding to help them, Kirin followed Camilla out of town, to a small bridge over the roaring White River.

And so it was, that he ended up standing outside the large iron doors to Bleak Falls Barrow, sword in hand.

[Kane]

The Wheel Turns

Fighting his way through the ancient Nordic tomb was no easy matter, but Kirin handled it professionally. He had plenty of experience with the undead whilst exploring the extensive ruins of the lost Ayleids in Cyrodiil. Surviving a barrow in Skyrim was more about avoiding the various traps, and less about the numerous Draugr that walked the halls of the ancient fanes. The only real challenge was the Overlord at the end of the winding mass of corridors – and that was only because Kirin was caught off guard.

The moment he crested the stairs, and stepped onto the raise dais a slight breeze blew through the immense cavern, as the sound of chanting and the whispers of some long forgotten language began to flow towards him from the half-moon wall. It grew louder as he approached, drawing him in almost completely unconsciously. Kirin reached out to touch the glowing marks, but before he could lay his hand on them, his vision darkened and a burst of knowledge flooded from the wall, right into his mind. The sudden inrush of power, brought him to his knees but faded quickly. As quickly as it had come, it was now gone, and only whispers of what he learned could he remember.

Raising back to his feet, he slowly turned his attention back to Nirn, or more specifically, the large wooden chest that stood nearby him in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. Kirin walked towards it, but stopped in surprise when a sharp crack echoed through the cave. The lid had burst off of the carved stone coffin that lay nearby, and a rather large Draugr stood to face him. The Nord was not ready for what came next, as the ancient undead turned his gaze towards Kirin and uttered three short words, that nearly blew him off his feet. The hide shield he carried disintegrated under the force of power that rushed at him, as the echoing of thunder reverberated throughout the cavern.

Kirin was unprepared for what had hit him, but not inexperienced. He quickly noted the dark potion vial on the nearby embalming table, and recognized it as some kind of poison. Moving faster than the Draugr probably expected of him, Kirin deftly stepped towards the table, smashing the flat side of his blade on the vial, lathering it with the deadly concoction. It only took a single parry and several quick slashes of steel, before the Overlord fell back into his long, dark sleep.

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After the long adventure in the barrow, making the short journey back to Riverwood and Lucan was a sweet roll walk. The shopkeeper rewarded Kirin handsomely and welcomed the young Nord to his shop anytime he liked. Kirin bartered with Lucan for food and supplies, before striking back out on the road. He had to figure out what to do with the hefty stone tablet he found in Bleak Falls, but nary a soul in Riverwood had any clue to what it was.

The damned thing was heavy, and Kirin was going to leave it behind after he plucked it from the chest to examine it. But just as he began to set it back down, the same gentle breeze that ushered him towards the mysterious wall blew by him once again. ‘As you wish, Lady Kyne.’

And so there he was, lugging it towards Whiterun. Kirin reasoned that since he was already going there to warn the Jarl, he may as well stop in to see the court wizard. The wizards were usually well trained at their College in history and the oddities it contained – maybe this one would recognize the intricately carved stone.

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A few hours later, Kirin stood before the leader of Whiterun hold – Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, and his court. After informing them of the dragon issue at Helgen, Kirin stood back while they debated on what to do. He detested politics, and would have left right then and there had he not gotten a stern glance from the Jarl’s housecarl, Irileth. The Dunmer had a fiery look about her, and did not look like someone to disregard. A few moments later, Balgruuf addressed Kirin again.

"Well done. You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it.
The Jarl then rose from his seat, and handed Kirin a reward for his effort. A steel battleaxe with a nice enchantment on it. Kirin bowed short, and accepted the offer gratefully, even though it didn’t fit his preferred method of combat.

"There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps,” continued Balgruuf. “Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and...rumors of dragons."

That suited Kirin perfectly, as he needed to speak to the wizard anyway. To his delight, Farengar’s job offer had been to retrieve exactly what Kirin was coming to see him about! The wizard was pleased, and had just begun to dismiss him when Irileth rushed into the chamber.

“Farengar! You need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby! She then turned to look at Kirin, “You should come, too.”

[Kane]

Destiny Rising

The sun was beginning to set as Kirin, Irileth, and a detachment of guards jogged passed the Whiterun stables, turning onto the western road. Off in the distance, the Western Watchtower stood alone on the tundra, plumes of smoke rising from within and all around it. A sense of foreboding fell upon the small force, as they upped the pace towards the keep.
Just down the road from Whiterun, they passed a large house that appeared to be devoid of life. Kirin made a mental note to investigate it on the way back to town. ‘That is…if I survive whatever lies ahead.’

The crew stopped a small distance away from the ruined tower to survey the scene. There were still a few guards left around the keep, but it was badly damaged in the attack. Standing back up, they made their way towards the tower, and were soon spotted by a guard standing near the doorway.
He began to yell about the dragon still being nearby, but was cut short by a distant roar.

“Shor’s bones – here it comes again!”

What followed next was the single most harrowing experience of Kirin’s life. Alongside Irileth and handful of guards, they battled with the winged menace for nearly an hour. Arrows cut through the air and weapons clashed, as they whittled away at the stout hide of the immense beast. Finally the dragon landed, allowing them to rush it with sword, axe, and hammer – all swinging endlessly at its thick scales.

The defenders were quickly losing stamina, and after what seemed like forever, the dragon finally let out a dying roar, as Kirin’s blade pierced it’s underside with a killing blow. They all backed up hurriedly, trying to avoid its death throes, when, to their wonder, the great beast became engulfed in flame.

Kirin stood front and center, sword drawn in anticipation for whatever may come next. But he was not ready for the life force that came rushing out of the dragon, and absorbed itself directly into his own. The feeling was euphoric, as the knowledge and power of the dragon, Mirmulnir, flowed through Kirin’s mind and blood. Suddenly, the ancient power that he learned in Bleak Falls Barrow made complete sense, and he lifted his head to the sky and shouted a single word that echoed across the vast tundra, followed by a crack of thunder.

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The guards had been suitably impressed by Kirin’s powerful shout, but Irileth less so. She was a touch read, but Kirin didn’t mind it – she was a good ally to have.
Masser and Secunda had long since risen and shined brightly down upon him as he slowly headed back east to Whiterun. The empty house would have to wait for later…he had much to tell Balgruuf and more than anything else, Kirin just wanted to sleep. And maybe have a stout mead beforehand.

But he had survived his first dragon encounter, and that was all that mattered to him. The moment it was all over, he quickly thanked Kyne – before the guards started to awkwardly stare. What he didn’t expect, though, was for the elation of power to wear off so quickly… The rush of energy culminating in his Shout wore off fast, leaving Kirin to ponder whether or not his newfound ability was a good thing. It had its advantages, but he was also aware that his soul was no longer just his own. The life of knowledge and experience he absorbed from Mirmulnir also came with sorrow and fear.

The dragon never expected to be killed, and his waning moments were filled with dread. Kirin wouldl never forget that feeling, but his thoughts were cut short when a thunderous sound raced across Skyrim, and shook the very ground beneath his feet.

“DO-VAH-KIIN.”

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Dragonborn. That is what Kirin came to be known as in the peaceful town of Whiterun. As far as the people of the city were concerned, it fit nicely with his new title of Thane. The Bannered Mare was raucous that night, as everyone in town drank and cheered and sung about the Battle of the Western Watch and the coming of The Dragonborn.

Eventually Kirin managed to slip away with a mug of mead, and headed up to his loft room for well-deserved slumber. Not even the continuous clamor of the party below was enough to keep him awake, and he fell asleep quickly, while his new friend Lydia nodding off in the chair nearby.

[TheCheshireKhajiit]

Ooo what happened with the “vampire” in the prologue?

The whole time I’m reading this, I had “Call of the Wind” by Xandria playing in my mind, lol

[Kane]

Ooo what happened with the “vampire” in the prologue?

The whole time I’m reading this, I had “Call of the Wind” by Xandria playing in my mind, lol

Just a lost thread. Didn't seem very important to him after a literal god showed up.


A Gift from the Goddess

The Bannered Mare was quiet and still when Kirin awoke the next morning. Lydia was gone from her chair, and he could hear voices drifting up to the loft, alongside a sweet smell of berry and spice from whatever meal Hulda was concocting. Rising from the bed, he gathered his gear and walked downstairs into the main hall of the inn. Various partiers from the night before hadn’t made it home, and were still passed out on whatever soft bed they could find – be it a pile of hay or a fur rug.

Lydia was seated at a table near the bar, conversing with Hulda, the proprietor. As he slid into one of the other empty chairs they gave him a polite nod and continued talking while he dug into a berry crostata.

“I’m surprised you let these drunks loaf around here overnight, Hulda.”

“Oh, well, I normally wouldn’t, but it was a special occasion I suppose.” She glanced over at Kirin, “It’s not every day we have a hero in our midst, after all.”

Kirin swallowed a bite of crostata before replying, “I only do as Kyne guides me, Hulda. We all have her to thank for my return to Skyrim, so if you would thank someone, I would do so at the temple. My days of seeking glory are over.”

“Be that as it may, you still have found what you don’t desire. You should at least embrace it for the people – in these trying times, they need someone to look up to.”

One of the drunks began to stir in the corner and she rose to rouse him and usher the braggart out. He grumbled something about a headache as he pushed open the front door, and nearly fell over again when the bright morning sun beamed down on him.

Chuckling, Kirin turned back to his breakfast.

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A half hour later, he leaned back in his chair with his cup of herbal tea and began to contemplate on where his journey was taking him next. Ivarstead was a long walk, and High Hrothgar even longer. In his youth, Kirin had made the pilgrimage at the behest of his ailing father. Kroval was a deeply spiritual man, and wanted them to make the journey together when Kirin was of the right age. It was not a pilgrimage for the weak or weary, and many dangers lie upon the Seven Thousand steps of The Throat of the World.
Lost in thoughts of his childhood and family, he barely heard Lydia address him.

“So, you’re a follower of our Lady Kyne, Thane?” she asked, candidly.

“Kirin, Lydia. And yes, but it goes a little further than that. We talk about that later, though…for now I have only one question – what is going on with that empty house on the western road?”
“Oh, you mean Elysium Estate? Not much is known about it. It’s believed that the original owner as a patron of Kyne, much like yourself. The place is decorated with banners and tapestries adorned with her crest.”

This piqued Kirin’s interest immensely. “Oh?”

“Mhmm. No one has lived there in some time, though. Those that visit return emptyhanded, and sometimes a bit…different.”
“Different? In what way?” asked Kirin.

“Well, a few are touched in some way by Kyne…other refuse to talk about what they find. There is an air of mystery around the entire matter, so if you intend to go there yourself it’s my duty to advise against it.”

“Come now, Lydia – enough with talk of ‘duty’. You may have been assigned my housecarl, but you’ll learn quickly that I am not one for rigorous tradition.”

Lydia shrugged and got up from her chair. “I need to stop at Belethor’s before we leave. Do you need anything?”

“No. I’m a little overstocked as it is, and I will need somewhere to place it all before long. I’ll be waiting by the main gate.”

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The sun was approaching its midday stride when Kirin and Lydia met back up at Whiterun’s main gate. Kirin looked over his supplies once more to make sure nothing was missing, and then together they headed out through the gate and down the winding path towards the stables. At the road’s junction, Kirin turned west once again, heading for Elysium Estate.
“I take it your curiosity has gotten the best of you, my Thane?”

Kirin sighed. “Some habits are hard to break I suppose. But, yes, it has. It’s more than that, though…I believe that I am supposed to go there. My instincts have never steered me wrong, and that was before I had a goddess nudging them.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Kirin winked at her. “We’ll get to that later.”

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Soon after, they were walking down the path towards the wooden gate of Elysium. The place definitely did seem empty, but that’s what intrigued Kirin the most. Pushing through the gate, he looked around the yard and to his amazement, a ghost appeared off to his right, near the drinking well.
Before Kirin could decide what to do, the ethereal specter walked towards them, speaking in an otherworldly tone. She spoke of past owners and the Lady Kyne, who had domain over the estate. The ghost was once a caretaker for Elysium, and even after death had been tasked with keeping it up, until the right owner came to claim it. She instructed Kirin to go around the western side of the house, to pray at Kynareth’s shrine.

“If you are worthy, she will speak to you.”

And so around the other side of the house, Kirin and Lydia went. As they walked, Kirin gave her a reassuring touch on her shoulder. He could tell she was a little rattled, and that she was not ready for that particular outcome to the mystery of the estate.

They found the shrine under a small porch roof across from the stable. Kirin knelt before the shrine to prey, but had barely begun when Kyne’s voice rang in his head.

“You’ve done well so far, my child. You’ve proved yourself against the dragons, and learned about yourself – all while honoring me faithfully. But your true path has only begun to unravel. High Hrothgar awaits you, but before you depart for the lofty summit, speak to my priestess Danica in Whiterun. She has a task for you.”

“I will do as you wish, Lady Kyne. But I also have many questions for you.”

”And I will answer them in time. Do not fret, Kirin – we will speak again soon. In the meantime, enjoy this house as your own. You are my champion now, and it will suit your needs amicably.”

Kirin bowed his head in respect one last time, rose to meet Lydia. She had been watching him nervously while he communed with Kyne, and was pleased to see that he was well.

“Come, Lydia – we need to find The Caretaker once more….and get the key to my house.

[Kane]

The Road Less Traveled

Lydia waited impatiently in the dining hall of Elysium Estate, while Kirin unpacked his belongings and accustomed himself to the various amenities it offered. A couple hours later, he returned to the main hall, and poured himself a mead before joining her at the table.

“Go ahead and ask away, Lydia. Before you boil over!” Kirin chuckled.

“When were you going to tell me just how entwined you are with Kyne? Following her as a patron is one thing, but actively communing with A GODDESS is something else entirely, Kirin.”

“First of all, thank you for not calling me Thane,” said Kirin.

At that remark, Lydia shot him a look of daggers.

“Second – and this is important – I had to know I could trust you. I would attract all sorts of attention, wanted or not if I paraded around as her champion.”
“Champion! You’re not serious – are you?”

“Aye. That I am.” Kirin nodded, and then began to tell her of his encounter with the hawk in The Great Forest, and everything that led up to this point. By the time he reached the end, Lydia was suitably astonished.

“My word, Kirin – do you realize how bless you are? The Divines speaking to worthy people at their shrines is one thing, but to actually speak to an avatar of Kyne? I’d be surprised if such a thing has ever happened before.”

“I know, Lydia,” replied Kirin. “Which is why it’s something I do not share around. Now get yourself settled in for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we head back to town, but for now I will be out back, putting together some new gear at the forge.”

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Dawn broke as Kirin and Lydia walked quickly back to Whiterun, bound for the Temple of Kynareth. He had visited the temple on his first arrival to Whiterun for a quick prayer, but the priestess hadn’t been there at the time. Today, though, they found Danica healing a poor soul with a terrible injury from some needless skirmish out in the wilds.

Once she finished her incantation, Kirin approached her in conversation. They talked quietly while Lydia kept an eye on the door. It wasn’t long before Kirin accepted her request, and motioned for her to join him as they headed back outside.

“Did she have something for you, Kirin?”

Kirin nodded, “She did – but it will not be easy. We are tasked with restoring the Gildegreen to its former glory and our first step involves finding a specific dagger.”

“Well that doesn’t seem so bad,” said Lydia.

“No? You might find that opinion to be untrue, once we try to take Nettlebane from the Hagravens.”

“Hags? Oh dear…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

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The oppressive blackness of a cloudy night filled the air around the two friends, as they sat around a small campfire on the outskirts of Ivarstead. The journey there had been long and exciting, leading to a quiet dinner under the lofty fir trees at the mountain’s feet. The flames danced merrily as Kirin and Lydia each sat in their own thoughts, reflecting on was to come.

“We should turn in for the night, Lydia. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the path up the mountain is no easy feat.”

“Have you made the climb before, Kirin?”

He nodded, “It was the last thing I did before departing for Cyrodiil. Father had always wanted to make the trip together, but he took ill when I was seventeen. After he passed, I felt it my duty to make the climb in his honor. I did not enter the monastery or even knock on its doors, but I did pray to Shor to allow Kroval safe passage to Sovngarde.”

“You still miss him, don’t you?” asked Lydia.

“Yes, of course. It’s been nigh on ten years, but it feels like only yesterday that we laid him to rest in the marshes of Morthal.”

“Morthal? You’re from Hjaalmarch? I didn’t know that about you.”

“And for good reason. I had a falling out with the Jarl before I left. I don’t even know if I’m welcome there anymore,” said Kirin.

“Well, things are different now, no? Soon enough rumors will spread of the coming of the Dragonborn, and you’ll be recognized everywhere.”

“I suppose so…but we may be getting ahead of ourselves. Only Balgruuf and some guards have given me that title. We need to see the Greybeards before we jump to any conclusions.”

And with that, Kirin stood and rolled out his bedroll before crawling into it, and gazing up at the sky. Lydia rolled out hers, as well, and nestled down inside it. She was soon fast asleep, leaving Kirin to lie in thought under the dark clouds. Feeling himself drifting off, he said a quick prayer to Kyne before he closed his eyes.

Once he finished, a swift breeze rolled across Skyrim, pushing the clouds out over the horizon and leaving behind the bright twinkling stars of Mundus. Kirin smiled, and thanked Kyne aloud before falling asleep.

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They hadn’t climbed very far before Kirin and Lydia both wished they were laying warm in their bedrolls again. The wind howled around the mountainside, blowing snow and ice around like icy pellets and wolves came bounding out of the gales, hungry for food. Stopping to rest an altar high on the southwestern slopes, they took stock of their food and water before heading back into the freezing winds.

It was nearly sundown before the storms finally subsided, leaving them with a clear path to High Hrothgar. Now they needed only to worry about whatever manner of creature dwells in the smattering of tree groves and rock outcroppings that remained ahead of them. After climbing well into the evening, they noticed that the wolf attacks seem to have dropped off entirely. Lydia was pleased with that, but Kirin suspected something worse.

And he was proven right when a hulking, snow-white Frost Troll leaped down from a stone shelf and charged them with alarming speed. The beast had the element of surprise in its favor, but once Kirin and Lydia regained their footing, they made short work of it. Attacking and feinting from both sides, the troll was soon overwhelmed and fell to its knees after Kirin severed a tendon in the back of its leg. Lydia finished it off with a quick thrust up under its jaw, and they both stumbled over to sit down under the stone ledge for a breather.

“What do you say, Lyds…do we camp out here for the night or carry on up? We are on the western slope, which means the monastery isn’t far off now.”

“Let’s continue on. It’s damn cold out here.”

Getting to their feet after a drink from the waterskins, they trudged on once more. Midnight approached as they finally climbed the final steps up to the entrance to High Hrothgar. Pushing the great wooden doors open, Kirin and Lydia stumbled inside, to find a robed figure walking towards them.

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

[Kane]

A Brush in the Nettle

Two days later, Kirin sat at a table in the Vilemyr Inn contemplating over his mug of Black-Briar. Lydia was at the bar nearby, ordering a hot meal for the two of them. It had been a long trek back down the mountain, and they were both ready for a night of sleep in a warm bed. She soon returned with a platter of food to split between them, but didn’t yet address Kirin.

He’d been quiet and distant since they left High Hrothgar, bound for Ustengrav. Lydia suspected that Kirin wasn’t ready for a return to Morthal just yet, even though it would be unavoidable…but it seemed deeper than that.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence.

“I know you want to help, Lydia – but there is nothing to be done about it. It’s just something I’ll have to work through on my own.”

“That’s understandable. Sometimes just talking about it can help immensely, though. My prior charge used to bounce thoughts off of me all the time.”

Kirin said nothing, as he swirled the last few drops of mead around the bottom of his mug. For the last ten years, his life had been a solitary one. Moving on from town to town and from one job to the next left little time for friendships, and all of his contacts were little more than acquaintances. And yet, here he was, sitting with his housecarl – someone he considered a friend…unable to open up.

Lydia remained silent, but he could tell that she wished for more from him. Her plate of food sat untouched, even though she tried to give off an air of inattention.

With a sigh, Kirin spoke once again.

“So far, being a Dragonborn isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Lydia looked sharply at him, listening raptly.

“The Greybeards may say otherwise, but all they do is sit up there on the mountain and meditate on the Thu’um. Everything they learn is self-taught with endless practice and pragmatism, and they have no idea what it feels like to absorb the life force of another being.”

He paused to finish off the last of his mead.

“It’s not just knowledge and power I gain – far from it. The memories and emotions of that dragon are also a part of me and it is overwhelming when they flow in. I know its sorrow and its joy. Its confidence and its doubt. Its love and its hate. No amount of meditating will assuage that experience, whatever Arngeir might say on the matter. I have to find a way to live with that, every time I take a dragon’s life – and so far… I’m struggling with just the one.”

A long silence lingered between the two of them when he finished speaking. Kirin sat wishing he had another bottle of mead to down, and was rising up to get another one, when Lydia grabbed his hand.

“Sit back down, my Thane.” She looked up at him sternly. “Drowning yourself in mead will not do anything but dull the pain.”

Kirin glared at her for a moment before lowering himself back into his seat with a laugh.

“How is it that we’ve only been together for a short time, yet you know to push all my buttons, housecarl.”

Lydia grinned, “It goes with the job. Now…off to bed with you! We’ve got another long journey ahead of us, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk more then.”

------------------------------------

The walk through the western edge of The Rift was pleasant as the sun shone down through the gold-red leaves of the endless birch trees that filled the forests of the peaceful hold. For Kirin and Lydia, the walk was too short, as they soon found themselves climbing up through the snow once more, as they wrapped around the mountain towards Falkreath Hold and Orphan Rock. The Hagravens and Nettlebane awaited them there, and Divines know what else they’d encounter. Just dealing with the hags would be taxing enough.

Soon that question was answered, as bolts of lightning streaked through the trees around them, and witches appeared on two fronts. Splitting up, Kirin and Lydia each took one of the witches before circling back around towards the tall rock, and fallen timber that led to the sacrificial altar where the Hagraven awaited them. Charging across with shields raised, they hoped to catch it off balance. But she was ready for them, until Kirin Shouted his two words of Unrelenting Force at her. The hag staggered backwards, buying time for the two warriors to rush in and subdue her quickly.

Kirin pulled Nettlebane from its deadly claws, before kicking the lifeless body over the rock ledge.

“I despise these creatures with all that I am. I do not know what God or gods they claim to serve, but sacrificing a living being should never be acceptable. Especially one that is under the protection of Kyne.”

He strapped the intricate dagger to his belt, and together they turned back towards the road. Whiterun was a long ways off yet, and the sun was already beginning to set.

------------------------------------

After walking for a few hours more, they stopped to make camp somewhere between Helgen and Riverwood. Once the fire was roaring away, Kirin set about skewing some of the salted meat from his pack, and mixing a pot of stewed vegetables. Lydia had wandered off to check out the surroundings, but soon retuned satisfied and with a faggot of wood.

“Doesn’t seem to be any bandits holed up nearby, so we should be safe to sleep without a watch. The fire will keep the critters away.”

Kirin nodded, “Works for me. I could use a few solid hours of sleep. I think we will stop into Whiterun tomorrow. Ustengrav isn’t going anywhere and we’ll need to stock up on supplies.”

“And give that dagger to Danica, I presume?”

“Of course – there is no need for us to carry it around forever. The last thing we needs is for it to get lost somewhere out on the tundra.”

“Whiterun it is then,” said Lydia. “Maybe Adrienne will have some new stock to check out. My sword is nicked up and on its last leg I’m afraid.”

[Kane]

Under an Ancient Sun

By the time Kirin and Lydia left Whitreun City, the sun had fully risen over the vast plains. The warmth from its rays beamed down over them giving a false sense of comfort from the chill air of the northern province. It also meant that any idea of hunting was out of the question, since any prey would sense them a long ways off on this clear summer day.

They made good time, though, since most of the tundra predators were also bedded down for the day. So far, only a hulking tundra spider had given them any trouble, but that trouble was well worth it – their venom was rare and made an excellent poison when applied to a weapon. Mid-afternoon approached, as Kirin guided them past the ruins of Silent Moon and continued westward.

This intrigued Lydia, since conventional wisdom was to take the northern path through Labyrinthian towards Hjaalmarch.

“Where in the name of Talos are you taking us, Kirin? The pass through Labyrinthian is back that way.”

“And it’s also filled with Frost Trolls. Trust me – as someone who grew up in Morthal, I know the best ways in and out. The route we are taking may be a bit longer, but it is substantially safer.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Lydia.

----------------------------

Kirin barely heard Lydia shouting at him over the roar of the dragon and the fire it cascaded down upon them.

“What was that about a safer route!”

Even in the midst of battle, Kirin couldn’t help but laugh. At least she was livening up from the always serious demeanor she carried out of Dragonsreach.

“You’ll note that I said ‘substantially’ – not completely!”

“I’ll remember that the next time we take a detour!”

The dragon continued its assault on the grassy slope, flying to and fro and all the while spitting its powerful Thu’um at the two Nords below it. Arrows whistled through the air, some hitting their mark and others sailing off through the trees. For over an hour this went on, until the dragon finally landed with an earth-shaking thud as the Kirin and Lydia rushed in from two sides to hack away at its scaly hide.

Roaring its head back in pain, it eventually let out a final shudder before collapsing to the ground and engulfing in flames. Kirin got down on one knee in preparation for the onslaught of life force that issued forth from ancient beast, flooding his body and soul. The world began to go dark, before he felt the sturdy grip of Lydia’s hand on his shoulder, bringing Nirn back into focus.
Getting shakily to his feet, sheathed his blade and moved to sit down on the nearest stump.

“You sure weren’t kidding around when you said the Greybeards have no idea what you go through is like. Even I could feel the power radiating of its dissipating body – and you looked to be
about a thousand miles away while it hit you.”

Kirin nodded. “I don’t think it is something I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I would be more concerned if you did get used to it,” said Lydia. “Kyne chose you for a reason, and your empathy towards the dragons may be exactly why.”

“I suppose that’s possible. But don’t forget…Akatosh also has a hand in this matter.”

----------------------------

The journey after that event was significantly less intense. After scaling Eldersblood Peak and making sure the dragon’s roost was empty, they began their descent down the other side of the mountain, towards Morthal. Along the way, Kirin reflected on the Word of Power they found on the half-moon wall at the mountaintop. It called to him just the way the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow had, and left only a partial understanding of its meaning imprinted in his mind.

Following the Way of the Voice would be somewhat necessary, it seemed. He’d have to learn to understand these partial words by mediating, or searching the memories of slain dragons. Neither idea appealed to him, so for now he put it from his mind and turned to the task at hand.

“I don’t want to linger in Morthal. I have no doubt that Igrod will recognize me, and that will only cause trouble.”

Lydia nodded in agreement, “Isn’t she some kind of mystic, though? Even down in Whiterun we heard rumors of her…eccentricities.”

“She is a gifted Seer, yes. All the more reason to move through quickly and before she picks up on me.”

Luckily, time was on their side, and it was well after dark when they approached the upper gate of Morthal. The moons were directly overhead as they approached their midnight zenith in the night sky, and all was quiet in the town, save for the patrolling guards. They heeded the travelers not, as Kirin and Lydia moved quickly though the small village and across the old stone bridge, an up passed the mill.

Once they were certain the made it through without attracting attention, they made camp on a stretch of marsh-land. This time however, they took turns on watch throughout the night.

[Kane]

A Call to Arms

Frustration couldn’t even begin to describe the sure of emotion that was coursing through Kirin’s body when he plucked the note off of Jurgen Windcaller’s ancient tomb. It took every ounce of restraint he had to not toss the note in the air and hack it to pieces with his longsword. Even Lydia, who was standing a few feet off to the side of the tomb could sense the anger pulsing out of her charge.

The slow crawl through the barrow had not been exceedingly difficult, but it had been long. Ustengrav stretched out for what seemed like miles underground, eventually culminating into a huge underground cavern with another word wall at its base. Draugr and skeletons patrolled the expanse in large numbers, never giving Kirin and Lydia a chance to rest.
And all that…only to find that someone else had come first and taken the Horn as bait to meet them.

“By the Nine, I will strangle whoever is playing this game with us,” said Kirin. “Now we have to walk all the way back to Riverwood.”

“Not necessarily,” replied Lydia. “Come on, there looks to be another way out down that tunnel. We’ll head back to Morthal and take the carriage to Riverwood. It will save us time, and give you a chance to cool down.”

“Tell me – why exactly should I cool down? We just risked life and limb for nothing. NOTHING!”

“I know, I know. But whoever did this is obviously skilled, and may have something important to tell us. Now hand me that note, before you rip it to pieces.”

-----------------------------

A day later, the carriage they rode stopped just outside of Riverwood and dropped off Lydia and a much calmer Kirin. The Sleeping Giant Inn was right near the village battlement, and so they went straight to it without stopping anywhere else. Kirin went to see Orgnar about a drink, while Lydia asked about renting the attic room. They hoped a little deception would give them an edge with whoever they were dealing with, so they decided Lydia would take the lead on the matter.

Kirin sat at the bar with a mug of Honningbrew while he listened to the innkeeper, Delphine, respond to Lydia’s inquiry.

“Attic room, eh? Well, we don’t have an attic room. But you can have the one on the left.”

Lydia thanked her, and headed for the specified room. Shortly after, Delphine followed her in and shut the door. Kirin heard muffled voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. A few moments later, Delphine and Lydia both came out of the room, and headed across the inn to the largest room at the back. Lydia glanced at Kirin and winked, letting him know to follow.

Delphine seemed to have taken the bait, but now Kirin had a new challenge. How to follow them through what was obviously the innkeeper’s bedroom without attracting Orgnar’s attention. He reckoned that he would handle the burly barkeep in a fight, but he rather liked the man and didn’t want to hurt him.

Thinking quickly, made a move to grab his coin-purse and knocked over his mead bottle in the process, spilling out its honey-colored contents all over the bar and down behind it. He apologized to Orgnar with a slight, faked slur and when the he bent down to wipe up the mess, Kirin darted into the bedroom. He’d heard the wardrobe open and shut, so he knew where to look. Sliding back the false panel in it, Kirin slowly crept down the stairs to find Delphine waiting with an amused look on her face.

“Finished playing around up there? Maybe now we can get down to business.”

Lydia sat on a chair nearby with a bored look on her face.

“So, I guess you didn’t buy her as the Dragonborn?” said Kirin.

Delphine chuckled, “Not quite. I knew who I was looking for when I took the Horn from Ustengrav. Lydia has it, by the way. I gave it to her to show that I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, you have me here, now. What is so important that you felt the need to waste our time?”

-----------------------------

Kirin wasn’t any happier than he was when they found the note deep inside Ustengrav. He had his own things to deal with before going off on some wild goose chase with Delphine to prove to her something that he already knew. And that was why he decide to make her wait for him at Kynesgrove, while he and Lydia returned to High Hrothgar.

The climb wasn’t any easier than last time, but the animals they encountered last time hadn’t been replenished by nature yet, so the climb was less dangerous. Once at the summit, the Greybeards allowed him to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, and gifted their knowledge of the word to him. Now all that remained was to formally recognize him as Dragonborn.

Kirin stood at the center of the main chamber, bracing himself while Lydia stood in the back near the shadows and watched. All four Greybeards then began their incantation.

“Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau. Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth. Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok.”

Once they ground beneath their feet quit shaking, the other three Voices filtered off, leaving Arngeir to talk to Kirin. In her corner respite, Lydia sat with her head in her hands, waiting for the ringing of her ears to subside. Kirin excused himself from the Master, and tended to his companion.

[Kane]

In The Arms of the Elder’s Gleam

Kirin and Lydia stayed in High Hrothgar for several days to rest up. Lydia’s hearing recovered slowly, while her charge learned more about the Way of the Voice, and conversed with Arngeir on a great many subjects. He was thirsty for knowledge and always seeking their advice on what to do about the dragon souls he absorbed. It wasn’t long before his meditation reflected in on what he sought – the knowledge and understanding of the words Kirin had learned from the walls at Eldersblood Peak and Ustengrav.

Dawn came on the morning of their departure, as Arngeir gave Kirin one last parting word.

“Breath and focus.”
And so hey set back out to scale down the mountain once more. Having made the trip a number of times now, they were much more adept at the climb, and soon descended down into Ivarstead, across the bridge and east out of town.

Eldergleam Sanctuary was their destination, followed by Kynesgrove. Retrieving the tree sap for Danica was more important to Kirin than rendezvousing with Delphine for her dragon witch-hunt. The Greybeards had provided them with a new map they drew up from their lofty perch on the mountain, and it was much more detailed than the one Kirin had from his youth. It depicted a nice path down from The Rift, into the lowland hot springs of Eastmarch, where the sanctuary lie.
“Have you ever been to Eldergleam, Kirin?” asked Lydia.

“No, I wasn’t even aware of it. I knew of the Gildergreen in Whiterun, but when I left ten years ago, it was still living. I had no idea it was cutting from a much older tree. What about you?”

“I visited many years ago, with Jornir.”

“Oh? You haven’t mentioned him before – was he a friend?”

“Yes and no,” she replied, solemnly. “Jornir was my previous charge, and the last Thane of Whiterun. He was a brave warrior and an excellent mentor. But he passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Kirin. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “If he was as honorable as you say, then he surely drinks in Sovngarde with Shor.”

“I’d like to think so, because he did not die an honorable death. Instead he got piss-drunk and fell off of the Jarl’s balcony in Dragonsreach. So you’ll forgive me if I frown at the sight of you draining tankards of mead.”

Lydia didn’t say anything after that and neither did Kirin. An understanding had passed between them, and they both had plenty to think about while they trekked across the hot springs.

---------------------

Several hours later, they sat resting outside the entrance to Eldergleam Sanctuary. Passing a quick meal between themselves, they chatted aimlessly about the past and what lie ahead. Being so close to Kynesgrove, Kirin thought it necessary to head there next, to meet Delphine. Windhelm wasn’t much further, and such a large city no doubt had a carriage service in case they needed to hightail it somewhere else. Once they finished eating, they set about repacking everything before heading into the cave mouth.

“Any idea what we’ll find in here, Lydia?”

“Only a large tree and some worshipers of Kyne. This is a peaceful place of nature – nothing more, and nothing less.”

“Good. I could use a break from all the excitement we seem to find.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” She motioned to the cave with her hand, “After you, my Thane.”

---------------------

Lydia was absolutely correct when she told Kirin that it was a peaceful place of worship. The sanctuary was idyllic and serene like nothing he’d ever seen before, and Kyne’s radiance flowed through every corner of the immense open-air cavern. A winding path lead up to the interior summit where the massively ancient Eldergleam tree grew from the bones of the earth. The sacred tree dwarfed any other that Kirin had ever laid eyes on, including the old trees of the southern Blackwood.

They began the short climb up to it, stopping talk to the pilgrims that lay among the grassy slopes and babbling streams of pure, clear water. All were giddy and eager to bless the fine day and the beautiful sanctuary they found themselves in. Towards the top of the winding path, though, they encountered their first obstruction.

Huge roots from the Eldergleam had worked their way out of the earthen soil, stretching their way across the only pathway up to the tree’s base. Unsure of what to do, Kirin reluctantly unsheathed Nettlenbane from his belt, and raised it for a strike.

“Are you sure about that?” said Lydia. “Attacking the tree of your matron doesn’t seem like a smart move.”

“Aye. But what else can we do?”

He hesitated before lowering the blade on the root, but a gentle breeze blew past that ruffled his hair and gave him all the encouragement he needed. Slashing downwards gently, Kirin nicked the root as slightly as he could, and to his and Lydia’s utter surprise, it shook loose and withdrew from the path. Continuing up, he repeated the action twice more, until they were at the summit, face to trunk with the oldest living tree on Nirn.

They stared up at it for a few moments, entranced with its great beauty, before the screeching call of a hawk rang throughout the caverns. Right before their eyes, the same great brown hawk that Kirin met in The Great Forest of Cyrodiil alighted down from the upper branches of Eldergleam and landed on the ground before them.

[Kane]

Kyne’s Truth

Kirin immediately knelt down, and Lydia followed suit. They both kept their eyes locked to grass, as Kirin address the Lady Kyne.

“You honor us with your presence, my Lady. Had I known you would be here yourself, I would have come much sooner.”

A gleaming flash of the whitest light filled the air around them, bursting through every branch of the old tree, and every nook and cranny of the sanctuary cavern. Kirin and Lydia closed their eyes against its intensity, waiting for the staggering brightness to fade.

Within a few moments, the light subsided and Kirin opened his eyes when he heard gentle footsteps moving towards him in the grass. A warm hand then rested atop his head with a soft touch, and the voice of an ancient, powerful being issued forth from the mysterious figure, asking Kirin to stand.

“Rise, my child.”

The stout Nord stood up from his kneeling position and looked upon the Goddess Kyne, in her pure form. Light seemed to radiate from every fiber of her being, and a gentle wind constantly rustled her long dark hair. She was clothed in robes of a deep sky blue, but the fabric seemed alive all on its own, shimmering and changing like the living sky above them. Songbirds flew gently around here, landing here and there sing their chorus of joy and basking in the warmth that radiated from the Divinity that loved them and all manner of nature’s life.

“You need not bow before me when I visit, Kirin. You have proven your faith to me already, and your companion has proven her loyalty, to you.”

Kyne the turned towards Lydia, “You may rise, too, child. Fear not my presence, but embrace it as you would embrace the presence of your own patron, Talos.”

Lydia bowed her head, and thanked the Goddess for kindness and acceptance.

“Of course, my dear. Now – Kirin…I sense you have much to ask me?”

“I do indeed, Lady Kyne. But I feel that only one of my questions is truly important… How is this possible? You first appeared before us as the very hawk I met all those months ago, and yet now, you stand before us in your pure being. I mistook you for an avatar when you spoke to me as your ancient symbol – speaking through a bird as one would expect the Divines to do.”

The Goddess did not answer right away, but instead turned and began to walk slowly the summit and her tree at the middle. She did not seem angry, as she did so with a faint smile on her face. And then suddenly, she began to sing as the birds do. A beautiful chorus of song that filled Kirin and Lydia with wonder at the most serene music they had ever heard and will ever hear. The birds that flitted about the cavern joined in, and soon the very walls echoed with the joy of Kyne’s Song.

And then she stopped. The many birds fluttering around Eldergleam all nestled into its branches, as the Lady Kyne approached Kirin and Lydia once more.

“Forgive me for delaying you an answer, but first I had to – encourage – the other denizens of my Sanctuary to leave. They are devout followers of my way, few are ready for the truth of my being here.”

She waved her hand, and around table laden with food suddenly appeared in the beneath the boughs of the ancient tree. Three chairs surrounded the homely white table, and The Goddess motioned for them to sit down with her.

“Please, enjoy yourselves. I know that you hunger for food and thirst for water. Do not let my presence stop you from satiating yourselves.”

Kirin and Lydia bowed their heads in respect, before digging into the delicious food spread out before them. Kyne watched with an amused look across her pleasant features as the two friends went at their meal with a zest. They ate and drank their way across the table for near one half of an hour before they were full and satisfied from the delicious meal that Kyne had conjured up for them.

Certain they were finished, her smile widened and she turned her attention back to Kirin’s lone question.

“Now child, as for your question about my presence here on Nirn, or – and perhaps more specifically – here beneath the Eldergleam with you.”
Kirin nodded, with a look of boundless curiosity on his face.

“The truth of the matter is simple… I never left. Scholars, historians, and zealots have preached for thousands of years that we Divines fled to Aetherius in our entirety, once we learned of our sacrifice to Nirn’s existence. But after what they did to my husband Shor, I could never leave this place. I aided him fully in his endeavor and Nirn is as much a part of me as it was a part of him.”

A moment of silence followed her words, as Kirin and Lydia dwelled on their newfound knowledge. They were stunned to think that Divines could still be among them, their very existence a secret. Surprisingly, it was Lydia who broke that silence.

“Forgive me Goddess, but I’m curious – are there other Divines that remain here on Nirn?”

Kyne smiled gently. “There are, but that is a matter for another time. At this moment, you need only concern yourself with me, for I will be guiding Kirin and yourself down the winding road that lies before you.”

She then turned her attention back to Kirin, “and that road continues in Kynesgrove.”

At that statement from his Lady Kirin groaned, causing Kyne to softly laugh.

“Now, now, Kirin. I know you are not happy with how she has used you thus far, but she walks the correct path towards understanding – even if it is for the wrong reasons. I ask that you meet her in Kynesgrove, so that you too may begin to unravel the mystery of the dragons.”

“I will of course do as you ask, Lady Kyne,” bowed Kirin. “Forgive me, as it was not my place to doubt you.”

“Nonsense, child. I told you when I appeared before you that you need not bow. You also need not worship me as you do. I have chosen you to be my champion, and also my son. All I ask is that you love me so.”

And with that, the Goddess arose from her seat at the table, giving them one last smile before she vanished in a flash of light. Kirin and Lydia both stood and watched, as the large brown hawk flew up and out of the break in the cave ceiling.

“As you wish…Mother.”

[Kane]

Resurrection

The trip to Kynesgrove was an uneventful one. Kirin and Lydia mostly walked in silence, still in partial disbelief at their encounter beneath The Eldergleam. It seemed surreal in hindsight, but nonetheless, both of the Nords felt truly blessed to have been there. But Kirin understandably wished it had been a longer experience. He was able to ask the one question he considered most important, but a multitude of other questions for the Goddess remained.

‘Maybe next time,’ he thought.

----------------------------------------

Darkness was beginning to overtake Skyrim, as the sun lowered itself gracefully into the western sky. Kynesgrove was just ahead of the two friends, and they soon were walking up the stone path towards the small town’s inn. Delphine awaited them outside of it, and quickly ran up to them as they approached.

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

That seemed to be an understatement. The innkeeper, Iddra, also came running towards them shouting about a dragon attack. In that same moment, the weather took a drastic turn, and the once clear evening turned into a fierce snow storm, with driving winds. With no time to waste, the three of them headed through town and started up the windy path to the summit above Kynesgrove. As they climbed, they could hear the roar of a dragon, and echoing of thunder as it spoke in its ancient language of power.

Once the ground evened out, they found themselves face to face with an unwelcome site. A massive black dragon that Kirin recognized immediately, seemed to be Shouting some sort of necromantic incantation at an old dragon mound.

And then, right before their very eyes, the ground shook as a skeletal dragon burst through the surface of its grave and crawled out towards its raiser.
“Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?”

“Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.”

Kirin, Lydia, and Dephine watched on in horror and amazement as the newly risen dragon began to reconstitute itself, and was soon covered completely with its hide, as if it had never been slain. The great black dragon then turned its head and looked right at them.

“Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah. Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.”

He then flew off, leaving the newly raised dragon, Sahloknir, to attack the three onlookers. It was as harrowing a fight as any, but Kirin was getting the hang of fighting these beasts, and Lydia wasn’t far behind. Delphine seemed to struggle a little bit, but she held her ground and released arrow after arrow into the dragon.

Before long, it was ready to go right back into the burial mound from whence it came.

----------------------------------------

A few days later, Kirin and Lydia sat around the dining room table at Elysium. They were due to meet Delphine back in Riverwood later that day, but needed the break and a long bath. Dragon fighting in particular had a way of upping the adrenaline levels and really making a combatant sweat quite profusely.

The home cooked meal was also a much needed event, and together they damn near prepared a feast for the two of them. Roasted leg of goat hit the spot nicely, followed by the coveted sweet roll and a stiff glass of Colovian Brandy.

“Anything we need to grab before heading back out, my Thane?”

Kirin groaned. He knew that at this point she was just teasing him, but ignored it for the most part.

“Nah. I just need to sharpen my blade on the grindstone before we go.”

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, me too. Dragon hide is tough, and I think I’ve just about ruined another steel sword. Do you think we have time to stop in Whiterun for a new one?”

“I suppose so,” said Kirin. “But do you really want to buy another one? At this rate, you’ll be out of gold within a month. Come out back with me when we’re finished here, and I’ll see what my stock of ore and leather looks like. I might be able to fashion something up for you.”

[Kane]

The Sleeping Giant

Lydia sheathed her newly minted Dwemer blade after felling the final wolf of the pack that was straddling the road in to Riverwood. It came through unscathed, which was a testament to the deadly simplicity of dwarven design, and the skill Kirin had used to smith it.

“I’m sorry to say it but, this is a much better blade than anything I’ve purchased from Adrienne. You are quite the amateur smithy, Kirin.”

“Thank you. It’s a trade I’ve always practiced, going all the way back to when I sharpened axes for da.”

Quite suddenly, their conversation was cut short by the familiar roar of dragon reverberating off the mountainside and down through the small village. The townsfolk immediately ran for their homes, as the guards formed ranks with eyes to the sky. The two Nords joined in to the defense, with Kirin Shouting a quick word of power to let the guards know they had a strong ally on their side.

They rallied around him as the dragon swooped down, releasing a cascade of fire over the small defense group. Arrows poured in to it for nearly ten minutes, but they were beginning to run scarce. If the dragon didn’t land soon, Riverwood didn’t stand much of a chance. Luckily, a well-placed shot from Lydia caused the beast to roar in pain, causing it to land right in the middle of the village.

Without hesitation, Kirin bounded forward with his sword at the ready. The dragon began to laugh at the sight of the lone Nord charging him, but it was quickly stifled as it bore the full brunt of Kirin’s voice and staggered backward at its force. Inspired by his reckless bravery, Lydia and the guards charged in and surrounded the dragon, hacking at it from all sides. It died quickly after, and Kirin sat on steps of the nearby inn, as the life force of the dragon poured in.

------------------------------

Delphine pushed her way through the door of her inn about three hours later. She found Lydia in the corner, made straight for her.

“Another dragon attack, and this time right outside? We really do need to get to the bottom if this and fast.”

She paused, and looked around. “Where’s Kirin?”

“Asleep in the second room. He’s been hiding it well lately, but absorbing the life essence of a dragon really takes it out of him. The power is overwhelming and there is a whole other issue that no one else considers. But that’s his business, and he will talk to you about it if he wants to. For now – let him sleep.”

------------------------------

Kirin woke from his slumber a good while later, only to find the inn quiet and dark. Lydia was nodding asleep on the chair nearby, but roused herself quickly when she heard Kirin stirring. As he got up and began to put his armor back on, Lydia went out to brew a pot of tea and pack up some pastries for the road. Upon her return to the room, Kirin was ready to go.

“All set boss? We can head for Solitude whenever you are ready.”

“Solitude? What about our rendezvous with Delphine? Is she here yet?”

“She’s back, but I already talked to her about our next move. You’ve been out of it for near 10 hours, and she was getting impatient.”

Lydia went on to explain in detail where they were going and what they’d be doing. They had to move fast, though, since Solitude was a long way away, and the Embassy party was in two days. Malborn would be waiting for them at The Winking Skeever, with Delphine not far behind.

------------------------------

The journey north was long, and they encountered many obstacles along the way, including another dragon resurrection. Kirin handled the end result much better this time, and only needing to rest for a few moments before they were underway again.

Solitude did not offer a good first impression when they arrived. Walking into the middle of an execution is not a welcome first sight, and they didn’t bother to stick around for it. Instead, they headed right for the inn and looked for the Bosmer contact Delphine had arranged. Malborn sat at a table near the back, and got right to the point when Kirin and Lydia introduced themselves.
Kirin was uncomfortable parting with his gear, but did so willingly. Malborn would smuggle it in for him and together they would meet up during the party at the first chance they got.
A few moments later, Kirin and Lydia were walking down towards the stables.

“I don’t like this, Lydia. I feel naked without my mail.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Besides, how do you think I feel knowing that I won’t be there to help you? Delphine will probably drive me up the wall, but I’ll be a nervous wreck while I wait for you back in Riverwood.”

[Kane]

Seeking Knowledge

Upon arrival, Kirin met a personable Redguard named Razelan outside of the embassy. He was a regular party-goer who accepted the Dominion for what they are and kept relations with them in the interest of business. Razelan was also a drunk, as evidenced by him already being intoxicated before even going in to the party. Kirin kept that in mind, because a friendly drunk can be very useful.

After presenting his dubious invitation, Kirin climbed up the outer stone steps and pulled open the iron reinforced wooden door and stepped into the Embassy vestibule. A tall female Altmer immediately walked toward him to introduce herself and the first thing Kirin though was, she wears way too much makeup.

"Welcome. I don't believe we've met. I am Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim. And you are...?"

Kirin greeted her and spoke amicably to her for a few moments before she was called away by the bartender, Malborn. Afterwards, she excused herself and went back to hosting her party. Not wanting to jump the bow on this operation Delphine cooked up, Kirin decided to mingle with some of the guests for a while, so as to not draw any suspicion. After speaking to various dignitaries for small bit of time, he made his way back to Razelan, who by this point in time was very drunk, and cut off from the bar as a result.

Spotting an opportunity, Kirin brought a drink to him as a way to butter up the inebriated Redguard even more. It didn’t take much convincing, though, and before long Razelan was causing one Sithis of a scene in the middle of the party. Malborn and Kirin quickly darted into the kitchens, where the wood elf directed him to his gear, and a door into the rest of the Embassy.

-----------------------------------------------------

Getting past the Thalmor patrols wasn’t easy, but it was manageable. Dealing with Rulindil and the other elf in the interrogation chamber was dicey, though, and Kirin barely managed to save Malborn’s life when two more guards showed up with him in tow. The end result was a mad dash back to Riverwood with the news that the Thalmor were searching for another former Blade named Esbern.

Delphine was overjoyed that the old man was still alive.

"Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thalmor must have got him years ago. That crazy old man... Figures the Thalmor would be on his trail, though, if they were trying to find out what's going on with the dragons."

He was an archivist for the shadowy organization for a number of years, and was quite possibly the last remaining expert on dragons and dragonlore. In other words…Kirin and Lydia were now off to Riften.

-----------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you made it back alive, my Thane,” said Lydia. “And I’m glad you made it back before I strangled Delphine.”

Kirin chuckled. “She can be hard to deal with sometimes. But Delphine is valuable to us nonetheless, and I will continue to follow Kyne’s path.”

And that path now led them through the dense birch trees of the Rift hold. Their journey was a slow one, as they contended with rain and what felt like near constant bear attacks. Sunny days didn’t speed them up either, though – they instead found themselves stopping to enjoy the beauty of the southern forests and relaxing under the vibrant colors of the fall foliage.
The Rift always had a special place in Kirin’s heart, and had the Lady Kyne not gifted him Elysium, he likely would have settled upon making a home for himself somewhere amongst the dense trees he and Lydia now walked beneath.

He was particularly lost in these thoughts when Lydia noticed the far way look in his eyes.

“Is everything alright, Kirin? You look a thousand leagues away.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about life, and how things don’t always turn out how you expect. I always imagined settling down in here in the Rift someday, but now that I have Elysium, I’ll likely never need anything else.”

“Funny how things work out, eh?” mused Lydia. “I thought I’d never get out of Dragonsreach and Whiterun, and now….here I am – charged to the Dragonborn and the chosen son of Kyne.”

Kirin nodded before beginning to pack up his gear again.

“Better get to it, Lyds. We’ve got another day or two before we reach Riften.

[Kane]

Vagrants and Vermin

After numerous stops along the way, Kirin and Lydia were finally fast approaching the capital city of the Rift. Riften lie just ahead, beyond the tree line, and all was quiet among the early morning emanating from Lake Honrich. They were making good pace towards the southern entrance of the walled town when they heard the screeching call of a hawk from somewhere far above. Stopping to wait in anticipation, they looked skywards and spotted the great brown hawk gliding amongst the break in the trees over the road.

The hawk flew began its downward descent, gently landing on the ground before them.

“Good Morning, my child.”

Kirin bowed. “Hello, Lady Kyne – er – Mother. What brings you to us in this unexpected visit?”

“I must not tarry while others are about, so this will have to be a short visit. When you enter Riften, please visit the Temple of Mara. The clergy of my Sister are always ready to help those who seek Mara’s blessing, and it is a noble blessing indeed. My Sister can help you with your journey if you help spread her glory.”

“Then the Temple shall be our first stop, my lady,” said Kirin.

“Thank you, Kirin. Now I must be off, but do not hesitate to call on me if you ever seek guidance, child. I will always hear your prayers.”

Kyne spread her impressive wingspan, and quickly took flight once more – just as a patrol guard rounded the corner. He gave them a puzzling look, but said nothing and Kirin and Lydia resumed their walk towards the city gates. They were stopped unexpectedly, though, when trying to enter the south gate. The guard on duty told them to go around or get lost, which Kirin found highly suspicious.

“What do you reckon, Kirin?” said Lydia.

“In Riften? Extortion. I’ve no doubt that most of the guards here are dirty in more ways than one.”

And that proved to true, when the lout guarding the northern gate tried in vain to shake them down. Kirin called him immediately on the fool’s idiotic plan to harass travelers, and soon enough they were heading to the Temple.

----------------------------------

Leaving the Temple of Mara with a new task, they set it aside for the more prominent one that had brought them to Riften in the first place. Luckily, the innkeeper was in good spirits and in hushed tones, told them where to find the Ratway on the lower walkway of the city. Down at canal level, the city had a particularly foul odor, and Kirin and Lydia found themselves walking rather quickly to the gate that led them into the sewers.

The dank, wet smell that greeted them beyond the first wooden door nearly made them retch.

“Why in Divines name would anyone want to have a bar in a foul smelling pit like this?” gasped Lydia. “This is the foulest air I’ve ever had the misfortune to breathe!”

“I suspect the guild likes it that way...less chance of someone bothering to put a stop to them.”

Marching on through the dark, rank tunnels they soon found themselves in the Ragged Flagon – the infamous hang out of the Thieves Guild. The bartender was decidedly less amicable Keerava had been, but he helped them nonetheless. Probably just to get the two Nords out of their hair! Every eye in the place watched them closely while they stood defiantly among the Ratway’s finest, asking about Esbern.

Kirin passed the bartender a bag of gold, thanked him, and led Lydia through the nearby door that led deeper into the sewers.

----------------------------------

It took a little convincing but soon enough, Esbern began to unlock the various bolts and chains that locked his heavily reinforced door off from the rest of the vagrants infesting the Ratway Warrens. He let them in and quickly slammed the door behind them, and asked them to explain what they were doing there.

After Kirin explained why they were seeking him, Esbern went on to say that none of it mattered, now that Alduin had returned. As he saw it, the situation was hopeless, and they were all doomed. But that somber mood changed quickly, once Kirin told him that hope was not lost, and that the gods had sent a final Dragonborn to Nirn.

“This changes everything! We must go – quickly now. Take me to Delphine! We have much to discuss!”

And so, a few moments later they were heading back out into the Ratway, only to find the Thalmor waiting for them. The haughty elves couldn’t resist shouting a few insults before attacking, and that only made things worse for them, now that Kirin and Lydia knew where they were. The armored and robed Altmer were not ready for the onslaught that the two Nords threw at them, with Esbern bringing up the rear. The old man was a competent mage, and not nearly as old and feeble as he looked. A hulking frost atronach of his summon pushed past Kirin and Lydia providing an excellent distraction for their swords.

Before long, the Thalmor lay dead around them, as they jogged towards the surface at a quick pace, in case more of the elves were on their way. Nothing more met them on the way out, except for a single Khajiit assassin that fell quickly to the three companions and the guards of Riften. Within moments, they were seated on a wagon and bound for Riverwood.

[Kane]

Reaching for the Sky

Kirin and Lydia were relaxing in the outdoor bath of Elysium with a plate of food and a bottle of wine when Lydia began to chuckle.

“Just who long do you plan on making them wait, my thane?”

“Not long, my housecarl,” he winked. “But we’ve earned the chance to relax at home for a day. Besides – we are both in desperate need of working on our gear. We’ve put our arms and armor through hell the last few weeks, and I’m of mind to smith some new items up for us.”

“Well, time is a-ticking. You better get to it soon, if you plan on outfitting us better.”

“As you wish, my liege!” mocked Kirin. He rose out of the pool, making sure to splash Lydia on the way out, prompting her to toss an apple at him.

“Oy! At least wait until I have my armor on before you go throwing things at me!”

Lydia laughed, as Kirin through on some more clothes, and began to stoke the fires of his forge. Rummaging through the supply shelves, he began to pull out various ingots and pelts they collected on their travels, and set to work on a new set of armor for himself. He toiled away for several hours before heading back into the house, laden with new gear for the both of them.
A late dinner came next and they set into the small feast Lydia prepared with vigor. Everything was delicious to last bite, and after a quick nightcap they headed off to be. Tomorrow resumed their long journey, and they were getting an early start.

------------------------------

They’d always heard the Reach was dangerous, but since neither Kirin nor Lydia had ever been – they did not expect it to be as treacherous as the found it to be. Saber cats lurked among high outcroppings of stone, and the endless Forsworn hunkered down in every ruin or clearing that they could. Landslides of dirt and rock greeted them in the valleys, and rushing rivers cascaded over cliff faces with a deafening roar that drowned out all else nearby.

It was slow going as they two stalked quietly through the menacing hold, but they couldn’t help but be awed in its utter beauty. Juniper trees bloomed on every steppe and towering cliff faces hung ivy from every ledge. Mountain flowers and lavender lined the cobblestone road, with the occasional Nightshade drawing ones eye with its dark leaves, and deeply violet petals waving in the gentle breeze that flowed through the valleys.

Neither Kirin or Lydia spoke much as they walked, taking in the beauty around them. Before long they were stopped for a rest at Old Hroldan, but it was cut short when the familiar roar of a dragon penetrated the stone walls of the old inn. Gearing back up, they charged outside and up the mountain path, unsheathing their honed blades as they went. Unsure of where Esbern and Delphine were, they took on the powerful Blood Dragon by themselves, peppering it with arrows as it flew to and fro above the plateau they danced across.

Eventually it landed, and could not handle the assault from two fronts. It fell within minutes and began the familiar effect of slowly bursting into flames, as its life force expelled from the dragons body and into Kirin’s. He was slowly coming to peace with the ability bestowed upon him, and it was beginning to show. Lydia had reached out to hold him in case Kirin was overwhelmed again, but this time he took it in stride and breathed deeply as everything settled.

------------------------------

“You’re starting to handle that like a master, Kirin.”

“Hmm? Oh, you mean the dragon soul?” responded Kirin. “I’ve been meditating on it whenever I can, and trying to come to terms with it. I still feel their emotions, but I’m trying to embrace it as a union of kinship more than a usurpation of power.”

“I’d say that approach is working quite well,” said Lydia. “Now then, what about this problem.”

She motioned silently to the camp in the valley below them. A Forsworn encampment sprawled out over wooden docks and bridges that spanned the small creek running through Karthspire.
There were at least a dozen of the deadly Reachmen, and a Hagraven also nested in an offshoot from the main camp. Kirin studied it for a few moments before whispering to Lydia.

“There isn’t much we can do to even the odds. Our best bet is to take a few out with our bows befo – “

He quit talking with a groan and pointed down towards the stone bridge that led into the camp from the southwest. Delphine and Esbern were charging in without regard, apparently intent on wiping out the Forsworn on their own.

“What fools!” hissed Lydia. “Come on, we need to help them!”

“We’ll drop in over there, and get rid of the hag first. Let’s go!”

[Kane]

A Lofty Goal

Sky Haven Temple is nestled on a low mountain-top in the central Reach, ideally situated out of harm’s way, and shrouded by the low level clouds that settle throughout the valleys and dales. Its unique Akaviri architecture separated it nicely from the surround Nordic barrows, yet there was still echoes of Skyrim through ought the complex. Alduin’s Wall sat in the Great Hall, as the focal point of the entire temple.

It was a wonderfully carved bas relief, depicting the prophecy of Alduin, and the Blades that played their part – up until Kirin’s began. Even he must admit that it was a little nerve-wracking to see himself portrayed an ancient prophecy about the defeat of the World Eater. He never envisioned that he would grow up to become a challenger to a God.
Esbern, however, was in his element as he strode through the halls, taking in all the history of the once great Blades stronghold. Even Delphine was happy with the locale, and began dreaming up plans of rebuilding the Blades.

Kirin and Lydia, though, were enjoying a rest and meal out in the courtyard that overlooked the Karth River far below.

“So, what do you think of all this, my Thane?”

“I think that I rather do not like having my destiny pre-ordained. If it were not for Kyne guiding me on this journey, I would probably be lost and overwhelmed,” said Kirin. “Her loving support and you friendship mean a lot to me in these trying times.”

Lydia blushed behind the mug of wine raised to her mouth.

“Your words are kind, Kirin, but as your Housecarl I have only done my duty as best I can.

“Nonsense. You stopped being my Housecarl long ago, and it’s no more than an empty title at this point.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Kirin cut her off.

“You know it to be true, Lydia.”

Setting down her tankard, she didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Kirin searched her features for any signs of emotion, but Lydia’s face remained resolute. I should remember to avoid playing any betting games with her, thought Kirin.

After a score of minutes, Lydia finally broker her silence on the matter.

“It means a great deal to me that you think so highly of me, Kirin, and that you consider me a friend above all else. But, I cannot be both friend and Housecarl to you – my loyalty and the oath I swore to protect you is too deeply rooted in honor. As a Nord, it would be a great disservice to you for me tobe anything but a loyal subject to you.”

Kirin thought on her words for a moment. They weren’t unexpected, but he also didn’t expect them to be so blunt and honest. Following his instincts on the matter, he decided it was time to let friendship steer the course, and to place his faith in the bond they developed since that fateful day in Whiterun.

“Then by my right as Thane, I release you from my service. Your loyalty remains impeccable, and all will know that the honor of Lydia Steel-Singer is of the highest in the land, second to none,” stated Kirin, boldy. “Now then – will you continue to travel with me along this perilous road, as my sister in blood? Or will you return to Whiterun in service of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?”

Without hesitation, Lydia drew the finely honed steel dagger from her hip and slid it across her bare palm. She then set her elbow on the table, hand raised as Kirin quickly skimmed across the skin of his own hand with the sharp dwarven knife he kept stowed in is boot. They clasped hands firmly on the tabletop and intoned the ancient oath of Kinship as their mingled blood gently dripped upon the wooden table.

-------------------------------------------

Having made the both legs of the trip before, Lydia and Kirin found little opposition to them as they returned to Ivarstead from their newly found temple of the Sky. The cozy little town that hid in the shadow of the great mountain was still and quiet as they crossed the southern bridge into the village. Lydia turned towards the inn as they passed by, but Kirin continued right past it.

“You do not wish to climb the Seven Thousand Steps at night, do you Kirin?”

“Nah then,” said Kirin. “You may head inside without me. I have a matter to attend to for the Lady Mara.”

“Very well – I will see you shortly.”

Lydia entered Vilemyr with a quick snap of the door, as Kirin headed towards the farm at the other end of town. He knew Fastred usually tended to the animals after dinner, and was hoping to catch her away from the prying eyes of her folk. Mara’s guidance steered him true, and he found the young lass toiling away in the twilight.

Kirin spoke to her at some length, reassuring her that the Goddess of Love would not leave her prayers unanswered. She professed her love of Bassianus, but he sensed doubt in her conviction. Rather than speaking directly to him, Kirin instead took his leave of Fastred, and sought out her parents.

It was then that he learned of Klimmek, and the mystery surrounding their falling out. Kirin knew him to be a good man, and had even helped him with a food delivery to High Hrothgar. The fishermen was found to be standing near the mill, taking in the night air when Kirin approached him and struck up a conversation. He seemed to be a bit more down to earth than Bassianus, and genuinely seemed to love Fastred.

"Oh, Fastred. I'm not sure what happened. One moment she's smiling at me, the next I can't even meet her eyes.”

Sometimes it surprised Kirin how daft other men could be about speaking to women. Maybe his time as a mercenary gave him a different perspective on the opposite sex, but he never found it difficult to relay his intentions. Klimmek seemed genuinely astounded that simply telling Fastred how he feels could be a good idea.

But he heeded the advice well, and ran off to find the young woman. A feeling of warmth and content rose up inside of Kirin, assuring him that he made the right decision. The touch of Mara was a wonderful feeling, and knowing that his work her was completed, he nearly skipped off to the inn as the light of Mara filled his soul.

-------------------------------------------

After a long climb the next day, Kirin and Lydia rested in the drafty halls of High Hrothgar, where they enjoyed a cup of hot tea whilst the Greybeards mediated outside in the courtyard. The stone monastery was eerily quiet without the Thu’um masters shuffling about on their daily routines – all that could be heard was the crackling of flames illuminating the dark halls, and the wind howling about the mountain outside.

The hours passed and the day drew on as they two friends waited patiently for Arngeir to join them inside. It was nigh on supper time when the weathered old Nord emerged from the cold, and spied them sitting around a roughly hewn stone table, chatting amicably.

“Ah, my apologies for not noticing your arrival, Dragonborn. Is there something the Greybeards may help you with?”

Much to the Master’s dismay, Kirin explained their search for the lost Shout they learned of with the Blades. Arngeir lost his temper, and accused the Dragonborn of being nothing more than a tool in the machinations of the shadowy organization. It was only after Kirin asserted his own will, and Master Einarth broke his silence, chiding Arngeir in the tounge of the Dovah.

“Forgive me, Dragonborn – I have been intemperate with you.”

He continued on, explaining that he could not teach Kirin the Shout that he sought. Dragonrend it was called, but the words were unknown to the Greybeards, who felt it had no place in their ancient halls. Instead, he decided it was time for Kirin to meet the leader of the Way of the Voice – Paarthurnax. Leading them out into the courtyard, the Elder taught him one final Shout, assuring Kirin that this would be their final gift to the Dragonborn.

“Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time. You may find Paarthurnax at the peak of the Throat of the World. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, stay focused on your goal, and your path to the top will clear. Good luck, Dovahkiin.”

[Kane]

The Peak of the Monahven

The blood siblings stood alone on the summit of the great mountain, bracing themselves against the strong gales that seemed to blow in from all sides. All they found upon the peak was a snow covered plateau with a single dragon shrine tucked away in one corner. The true mountain peak stretched above them yet, but they did not doubt that this is where they were meant to stop. Nothing but the intense wind broke the silence, as they waited for a sign that they were not alone. Finally, a mighty roar echoed across Snow Throat.

High above, an immense and weathered Dragon soared down towards them and landed right in front of Kirin and Lydia, greeting them in the Dovah tongue.

"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah…my mountain?"

Kirin bowed his head in respect to the ancient one.

“I am known as Kirin, and some have named me Dragonborn. I seek knowledge from the master of the Greybeards, but I did not expect you to be a dragon.”

"I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you… Dovahkiin,” said Paarthurnax. "Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

Lydia felt a little out of her element, so she retreated a few steps and settled down on a pelt from her pack while the Kirin conversed with the ancient dragon. Feeling that she would never be able to sustain a fire for warmth, she resided to bundling another cloak around her to ward off the piercing cold. She watched nervously, unsure of where this dragon’s loyalties lay.

But Kirin sensed a felt a kinship with the beast, and had no fear or ill will towards the respected Dovah, and continued to speak confidently with him.

“I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Would you teach it to me?"

"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov,” replied Paar. He then turned toward the stone shrine, before continuing “"By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

YOL…TOOR…SHUL! The mighty dragon roared, and an incredible burst of flame issued forth from his maw, blasting the spoken words into the shrine’s wall. Once the flames cooled down, Kirin approached it and took in the freshly carved words, gaining a small understanding of Fire. Turning back to Paarthurnax, the dragon spoke once more.

"A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the dov do."

The knowledge and meaning of the Shout flowed from the great dragon, and absorbed itself into the blood and soul of Kirin, just as the Greybeards below had gifted him their knowledge. It was always a much more pleasant experience than that of a slain dragon, and the power that filled him could be handled much easier.

"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"

Kirin stepped backward and hesitated nervously for the first time since Paarthurnax landed before him. Pushing back Arngier with Fus was one thing, but shouting a burst of fire at a dragon was another thing entirely. The apprehension must have shone on his face, for Paarthurnax urged him on once more.

"Do not be afraid. Faasnu. Let me feel the power of your Thu'um."

And so, Kirin did. He called upon his newfound knowledge of Fire, and projected a single word towards the Dovah.

YOL!

The gout of fire sprung forward from his very being, washing the great dragon in tickling flames that cascaded over his entire body. Staggering slightly, Paarthurnax seemed to have been caught off guard by the intensity of the Dragonborn’s Thu’um.

"Aaah… yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind. Now then - you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor… mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

---------------------------------------------

The two continued their longwinded conversation as Lydia sat nearby and watched. She was immensely happy with her decision to hang back a good bit…especially once the Kirin and Paarthurnax began to shout fire at each other and the shrine. But they had since began to converse in more normal tones, leading to Lydia wondering what they could be talking about. She thought about inching closer to them, but worried about more Thu’ums being flung around.

I suppose I’ll just wait for them to finish, thought Lydia. It’s damn cold, though…I hope the wrap it up sooner, rather than later.

She bowed her head against the wind, and decided she would pay her respects to the Lady Kyne. It had been a while since she prayed to the Sky Goddess, and much had happened since that serene day in the garden of the Eldergleam. To her enormous surprise, the voice of Kyne answered her prayers.

‘Hello again, my child,’ rang the beautifully clear voice of the Divine. ‘I wondered when you would call upon me once more.’

‘Forgive me, Lady Kyne – I offer no valid reason for my lack of prayer in recent times. I have been too consumed with my own inner turmoil for some time, and it has only recently been settled.’

The Goddess replied softly, ‘that much I know, young Lydia. I am, however, very pleased at the way things turned out for you and Kirin. He needs your friendship far more than he needs your service. Your journey has already been long, but it is truly just beginning. Many hardships lie ahead, and you will need each other to overcome them.’

‘Your words are kind, my Lady,’ said Lydia. ‘And I will do all that I can to help my brother-in-blood on this journey, for no one has ever been so kind or caring towards me. He is a true Nord and a true friend. I can think of no one else who should be in his place.’

‘Yes, he is a rather gifted individual, and your friendship to him means just as much as his does to you. But we must always keep the faith in him – for he is our only hope. No one else - could - be in his place. That is why I gifted him the voice, and Akatosh bestowed upon him the dragonblood. You must do all that you can to help him. Especially in his greatest times of need. Ah – for now, though, I must take my leave…Kirin and Paarthurnax appear to have reached an agreement. Good luck, my child.‘

Lydia bowed her head in respect. ‘Thank you…mother.’

[Kane]

Ever North

Winterhold was a long way off, but carriage travel sounded awfully nice for the trip. And so, Kirin and Lydia found themselves walking east to Riften, instead of climbing back down the northern face of Snow Throat. The sun shone warmly down on them as they walked beneath the gold leaved birch trees spanning the forests of Skyrim’s southeastern hold. Small critters darted in and out of the dense undergrowth, and the occasional bear could be heard growling beyond the brambles lining the stone road that lead them due east along the Treva River.

Come evening time, they found themselves seated around a table at the Bee and Barb, enjoying a warm meal and a bottle of Black-Briar Reserve. A bard played idly on his lute for a few moments, before singing of Stormcloak triumph and Nord pride. Kirin listened to the song, shaking his head through most of it and setting his fork down in disgust afterwards.

“Something wrong, Kir?”

“Yes, but this is not the place to discuss. Once we are on the road again,” said Kirin. “Can you talk to Keerava about a room? I’ll head over to the temple and check in with Dinya and Mara.”

“Aye. See you in a bit.”

-----------------------------------------

It was quiet in the temple when Kirin entered through its wooden double doors. Dinya Balu and Maramal were both in deep prayer upon the altar and remained so for several minutes. Sitting patiently in a pew, Kirin said his own prayers to both Mara and Kyne while he waited for the clerics to address him.

Dinya was the first to stand up, and the Dunmer quickly spotted Kirin sitting in the pew, and went to join him.

“Have you returned from Ivarstead with good news?”

“Yes. Through the guidance of the Lady Mara, Fastred and Klimmek have found their love and are no longer confused about themselves,“ said Kirin.

"How wonderful. Like the sea, their love roils and swells, but brings life and nourishment to all."

“Does Mara require anything else of me? I enjoyed a wonderful sense of fulfillment for spreading her light.”

“Of course,” replied Dinya. "As you venture, Mara fills my mind ever more with visions of love in peril. Embers lie nestled in stone, needing only fuel to bloom to a flame that will warm all around them. Go to Markarth. There you'll find Calcelmo, wise, acid, and reclusive. Help him to emerge and state his intentions. This is the prayer heard by the goddess and relayed to her servants.”

Kirin nodded and thanked Dinya before heading back out into the town square. There, found Lydia haggling with Grilka over fine piece of armor and it sounded like it was getting pretty heated. He caught her just in time, recognizing that stubborn Nord look on her face. Thanking Grilka, he steered her away from the vendor's stall to cool her down. She protested for a moment, but then Lydia’s common sense kicked in before her face turned a minor shade of red.

“It was a nice piece…she just was asking an outrageous price for it,” mumbled Lydia.

“The Witchplate cuirass? You should have just asked – I could have smithed one for you the last time we stopped back home at Elysium. I think I have all the materials needed for it already.
Now come, it’s getting late and we have a long journey north ahead of us. We’ll need a good night sleep tonight.”

-----------------------------------------

As it turns out, it wouldn’t be as long as they thought. Kirin and Lydia were pleasantly surprised to learn that the carriage drive near Riften’s stables was willing to lug them all the way up to Winterhold. A day later (and a couple sore backs) the cart bumbled down the road into the once great city of Winterhold. The town was a shell of its former self, with over half of the city now lying among the stone rubble in the Sea of Ghosts far below. Miraculously, the College of Winterhold stood proudly throughout the catastrophic storm that endlessly battered the northern coast, leaving it perched high above the stormy waters. A worn bridge spanned the precipitous drop, and one could not help but marvel at it. No one could quite explain how the college still stood, let alone the gravity defying bridge that connected it to the mainland.

Just atop the stairs that lead down to the main (and only) street in Winterhold stood a tall female Altmer. She stopped Kirin and Lydia just as they crested the staircase.

“Cross the bridge at your own peril! The way is dangerous and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry!”

Kirin didn’t expect a warm welcome, but he at least thought it might be warmer than that. Most Nords feared the college and its mages, leading them to openly disdain it. This in turn seems to have led to those studying here to be wary and extra cautious of those seeking admittance. After conversing with the elf, Farlada, for a few moments they agreed upon terms to which Kirin and Lydia could enter the college. Stepping back a few paces and urging Faralda aside, Kirin uttered a single word of Unrelenting Force as a demonstration for what he could offer the College of Winterhold.

Excited at the power he possessed, Faralda immediately granted them entry, leading them across the long stone bridge to the courtyard. Pushing through the arched doorway, Kirin and Lydia headed upstairs to the Arcaneum – a vast library full of knowledge studied for countless years by mage after mage. A grumpy old Orc kept watch over the collection, and seemed to know a great deal about the contents within. But when Kirin asked him about Elder Scrolls, the old librarian couldn’t help but give off an air of distrust.

"And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand boy?"

Kirin couldn’t help but sigh loudly. Nothing in this place was easy, but he continued talking to Urag about it. After some persuading (and throwing the Dragonborn weight around once more) he gathered up a couple of books on the Elder Scrolls for Kirin to look over. One of them was nigh unreadable and raised more questions than it answered. A quick check with Urag confirmed that he wasn’t daft for not understanding it.

"Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls, but... well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

“Any idea where he went?” asked Kirin.

Somewhere up north, in the ice fields. Said he found some old Dwemer artifact, but... well, that was years ago. Haven't heard from him since."