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R.I.P. neildarkstar. Haven will miss you dearly.
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The Call of the Wind
Topic Started: Mar 5 2018, 12:43 PM (582 Views)
Kane
Overlord
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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!”

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Areial
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Et'Ada
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:clap: Great Read!!
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Serethil
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Love it! Excellent chapter!
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Lapuaboy
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Great read! It seems like Kirin and Lydia get along very well ;)
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Kane
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Thanks Lappy! They do, but not in that way. :P
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neildarkstar
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Very very good! You've got a nice touch with descriptions of the environment they're in. I really like that!

"Delphine and Esbern charged in without regard"... Ever wonder why the Blades are all but extinct? ;)
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Kane
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Thanks neil! I'm no wordsmith, but Tolkien influences me on those parts. I love the way he describes environments - I can always picture it perfectly.
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Kane
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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.”
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neildarkstar
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Well told indeed!

I have only one slight criticism to add, if you don't mind... It's a touch confusing because Kirin either gets a sex change or becomes Lydia as he heads off to talk to Fastred. It may be just how I read it, but it confused my poor little mind for a moament or two kinda breaking the spell you'd woven with words.
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Kane
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Whoops, good catch neil! I missed that in my quick proofread.
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Serethil
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Yeah, noticed that too.... might need a bit edit there Kane!

Very well told indeed!
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Kane
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Thank you! I fixed it up. :)
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Kane
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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.’
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Serethil
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Et'Ada
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GREAT update Kane! Excellent read!
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Areial
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caught up... Great reads!!
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Kane
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Thanks! :)
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Kane
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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."
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Serethil
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Oh boy.... here we go! Great read Kane!
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Areial
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:clap: Nice read... love what's comming.
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Kane
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Darkness Envelops

Crossing the northern ice floes was treacherous, but Kirin and Lydia found some measure of respite inside Septimus Signus’ Outpost. Deep inside a glacier, the elderly scholar studied an ancient dwemer construct of enormous size. The artifact was, according to Septimus, a lockbox of some kind that hid away an immense power. Luckily, he too was in need of the Elder Scroll sought by the two Nords. After minutes of inane prattling, Septimus finally revealed that he knew the location of it – Blackreach. A lost Dwemer city far below the ground, spanning many miles beneath Skyrim’s northern mountains.

Before they parted ways, the scholar produced two objects for them to take – a small sphere, and a blank cube.

“Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round. The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But... empty. Find Mzark and its sky-dome. The machinations there will read the Scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Trust Septimus. He knows you can know.”

He then told Kirin where to being his search for Blackreach and the Tower of Mzark – Alftand. Lydia took the lead this time, eager to get out of the cave and away from the addled scholar. The evening sun cast a warm glow down on the blue ice beneath their feat.

“Let’s hop back over to the shore below the college,” said Kirin. “If we make good time, we’ll hike west along the sea until dark. I’d feel better about making camp with solid earth under our feet.”

“Sounds good to me, my Thane.”

Lydia ducked just in time to avoid the snowball Kirin flung at her.

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

A few hours later, dinner sizzled in a frying pan atop the fire that kept them from freezing to death. A horker loaf Kirin purchased from Birna earlier in the day emitted a wonderful aroma that had their stomachs growling. Fuel was plenty due to the endless supply of driftwood that lay scattered along the Sea of Ghosts and the flames were roaring. After they ate, Kirin and Lydia elected to sleep in shifts, keeping the fire lit at all times for warmth…and protection from the local wildlife.

The northern shore was teeming with Ice Wolves, and they roamed in huge packs hunting anything they could find. Horkers also lumbered around the stony beaches, but they are not to be trifled with either. The wolves generally avoided them, leaving smaller critters and unlucky fools that wandered into the wild unprepared for the dangers within.

But the fire kept them at bay, and allowed Kirin and Lydia some relaxation time.

“By the way, Kir…you never did elaborate on your dislike of that Bard’s song in the Bee and Barb. What had you so upset about his piece?”

“This civil war is an utter joke, that’s what. Ulfric and his goons have half the province up in arms over such a trivial matter. The Stormcloaks are blind and too pigheaded to see who the real enemy is – the Thalmor. Not the Empire. We should be manning the borders as proud members of the Imperial Legion, not squabbling over the holds of Skyrim.”

“I see,” said Lydia. “You are right for not wanting to voice that opinion in Riften – they are staunch supporters of Ulfric and you likely would have been hanged for treason. I do see your point, though…even if I might not completely agree with it.”

“Well, then that is your choice. But if you want to see what Ulfric is really about, you need to look no further than the Gray Quarter in Windhelm.”

And with that, Kirin retreated into his tent to sleep for a few hours while Lydia took first watch.

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

Morning had come much to fast or both Kirin and Lydia, but they nonetheless packed up and began the uphill trek to Alftand. Kirin was suspicious as to how Septimus knew where to find a lost Dwarven city, but they really needed the Elder Scroll. The trip up was miserable – seemingly endless Frost Trolls wandered about the barre, snow-covered land between them and their destination. By the time they found the entrance, and the ruined camp outside of it, they were exhausted. It was too dangerous to stop outside though, so they decided to head into the glacial crevasse and look for a spot to hunker down.

The first warm room they found did the trick, and they stopped there to set up a small camp for the night. The stone floor was uncomfortable, but it was damn warm from all the steam that poured out from the maze of pipes that flowed throughout the ancient city. Neither Kirin nor Lydia wanted to sleep in shifts, so instead the Dragonborn tested out a Shout he just recently learned.

LAAS

His vision blurred as a cascade of energy emanated from him and spread through the surrounding area. Far off, he could see the glow of unknown foes as they meandered to and fro aimlessly as the patrolled the long forgotten halls of the Dwarves.

“We should be fine to sleep through the night,” whispered Kirin. “There is nothing within any meaningful distance of us.”

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

After resting a few hours each, they were back to quietly advancing through the endless tunnels and huge chambers that were packed with automatons, and later, the Falmer. These sickly creatures caused more problems for Kirin and Lydia than anything they had faced before. Everyone arrow loosed and every sword swung was laced with a virulent poison that the Falmer concocted from their Charus pets. Throngs of the hobbled creatures spread through deepest depths of Alftand, and there seemed no end to their massive numbers.

Eventually, Kirin and Lydia came to a huge, open air cathedral far beneath the surface. A large gate stood in their way, and once they dispatched the couple Falmer patrolling it, Kirin climbed to the balcony above. Two levers on either side of the balcony released the gate, and the two Nord warriors soon found themselves facing a new problem.

The massive Steam Centurion awoke from its arch the moment their light footfalls landed on the top step of the central dais. It roared into life as pistons pumped steam out of every orifice and marched towards Kirin and Lydia with surprising speed, ready to swing its massive hammer down upon them. To their fortune, it was not an agile construct. Darting in and out of its long reach, they were able to whittle away at the metal beast in tight and drop it before the machine caused any real damage.

Resting on the stone steps for a moment, they passed each other water, food, and healing potions before continuing on. Once through another gate, they found the entrance to Blackreach that brought them here. Kirin pulled out the Attunement Sphere given to him by Septimus and inserted it into the control panel. Beneath their feet, the ground shook briefly, before the stones surrounding the column sunk into the floor, revealing a staircase down into Blackreach.
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