Chapter 50: The Dragonborn Comes
"Your lust for loot is unseemly." Skjor whinged as I securely tied down the last of my loot to my enormous homemade loot sled.
In a pile on the loot sled lay all the weapons and armor from the bandits we'd hunted down earlier in the day, their valuables, and a bunch of mammoth tusks they'd been stockpiling. It was a killer haul.
"You are going to want to climb on." Jack told him as she stood at the top of Mt. Murderhobo, "Grunt's going to want to get back before dinner time and he won't wait for your old wrinkly ass if you fall behind."
"If you think I will be outrun by a lizard hauling all of that," He indicated to me tying myself into a harness to pull the loot sled, "then you have lost your mind."
Two Hours Later
Skjor had fallen to his knees in front of the south gate into Whiterun as he struggled to both catch his breath and keep from puking after the pace I set on our return trip.
"Next time…" he gasped, "I ride the loot sled."
"Told you so." Jack mocked as she dropped down from Mt. Murderhobo like the queen of the world.
Despite having to navigate the streets of Whiterun at a sedate pace, we still made it back in time for dinner, and afterwards were inducted into the Companions in a ceremony I'd give a five out of ten. I'd been declared the Overlord of the Krogan and the Archon of the Hutts. Unless I get crowned the King of Asgard, I don't think I'll be attending any ceremonies that stick out.
The next morning I took up an apprenticeship under Eorlund, melting down the gear we took from the bandits into fresh bar stock and then beginning the laborious process of transforming regular steel into Skyforged Steel. Each bar needed to undergo one hundred folds using the heat of the magic forge to reach the quality expected in weapons made for the Companions and their associates.
While this process could be continued in perpetuity, each fold resulted in diminished returns. Hundred fold Skyforge Steel swords are comparable to elven swords, while thousand fold Skyforge Steel swords are comparable to glass swords. While the effort wasn't near worth the pay off, I did find that my prowess as a smith improved far faster in the last ten folds of a Skyforge bar that in the first ten.
It became apparent to me that Eorlund, despite his many years of experience, wasn't very smart. He basically grinded out his levels in blacksmithing forging iron daggers. Over his long career he had never thought to use fire salts to cut down on heating time, never experimented with alchemical quenches. It literally took me three weeks to dial in the right amount of fire salts to increase the forge efficiency without risking ruining the product and that using even the cheapest resist fire potion for quenching reduced the risk of stress failure to zero and hardened the metal even more than an ice water quench.
Unfortunately, some intelligent being has patched out the fortify skill potions and enchantments, so I couldn't just exploit the shit out the crafting system to produce the Iron Sword of OP Brokenness with world ending enchantments. Feels bad, man.
Despite Eorlund being a complete square, he was handy for helping me increase the grind speed on my smithing skill and connecting to the Smithing Stars. I found that the final quality of the Skyforge Steel also drew on the smiths metal lore, so I connected to the entire constellation and discovered that my hundred fold steel was now of the level of Eorlund's thousand fold steel, and I found it far more responsive to my shaping.
This discovery along with the love my fellow Companions now held for the loot sled and its more professionally crafted descendants made me the most popular member of our group. Not that it was hard as my only competition was Farkas, Kodlak, and Jack.
Who could have guessed that making badass weapons of badassery and increasing the profitability of our battles would make a band of mercenaries like me?
I made new suits of armor for Jack and myself as well as updated our weapons to use my new super alloy. Given our raw strength and the intense difficulty involved in killing us, I may have gone above and beyond in making the armor scary as fuck. When I was done with mine it looked like General Raam and Garrosh Hellscream had pulled off the fusion dance and become a heavy metal hell lizard.
I'd worked the skull of the mega bear into a workable visor for my helmet and armored my arms asymmetrically as the left arm would operate a brutal spiked pavis and wouldn't need any further protection. Then I studded the right arm with the mega bear's brutal claws like a prehistoric Shredder.
I covered all the darkened steel with nordic scrollwork in honor of the setting and The Mule 2.0 gave Torvar an erection that lasted longer than four hours.
Jack got similar upgrade and especially liked the hagraven feather mohawk crest I put on her helmet.
The coup de grace came in the form of the Skyforge Steel bows I made. Mine was more akin to a one man ballista and I carried a bag of javelins shaped like arrows for it, while Jack's was a more toned down reflex bow that could launch the heavy bodkin arrows I made her over 300 meters.
When Aela asked me if I was planning to takedown a dragon while we practiced our archery I told her, "Absolutely."
"Well, you will have to go a long way to Akavir to accomplish that." she nodded and continued her practice.
I chose to ignore her accusatory glare when one of the Jarl's soldiers ran into Jorrvaskr shouting about a dragon attacking the Western Watchtower.
The morale of the guard force improved greatly when we arrived at the rally point with Aela, Kodlak, and Athis. Mine; however, dropped significantly. I didn't see the horned badass from the video game trailer anywhere, and instead the only person who stood out did so for the wrong reasons.
I spotted a nord girl with straw colored hair hanging out of a homemade hide helmet, clutching a self forged iron dagger to her chest in a blood stained too big Stormcloak uniform. She looked sixteen and terrified, and I realized that Skyrim wasn't going to be saved by some unstoppable epic hero powered by the gamer's insatiable desire for loot and adventure. The fate of the world was in the hands of a modern hero. A scared teenager with no business being a hero.
Ah shit.
"With Bearsbane here we won't need to do anything!" Shouted someone who was much happier than I was right now, "He'll just pin the damn thing down and fuck it to death!"
I see that Whiterun's epidemic of limping females had only improved the mood of these former adventurers.
"I'll be remembering your mother the whole time, Mika." I told the chatty guard.
"She has been pestering me to get you back in her bed lately." the man admitted without shame, "I am glad the memory is so strong, makes my job convincing you all the easier."
What the fuck is wrong with these people.
"And don't forget my sister!" Shouted Sturn, "And we can get a drink when you're done at the Bannered Mare!"
Don't these people realize that fucking their mothers and sisters is supposed to be the end of our friendships. We aren't supposed to go out for a night on the town after I have plowed your sister into a blissful stupor, Sturn. You are supposed to fight me.
The emboldened guards followed Balgruuf's housecarl Irileth out to the Western Watchtower and we followed them with a shaking teenager trudging along with us.
"What's your name, kid?" I asked her.
"Brienne." quavered the young nord woman.
"Brienne." I repeated, "Nice name. I see you too cannot contain your excitement about the coming battle. I am also shaking in joy, you just can't tell because of all my neat armor."
"Shouldn't the armor make the shaking more noticeable?" she asked in confusion.
"You would think that..." I shook my head, "Do you think that some dragon bones will look good with all the others, or will it be too much? Maybe swap out the mammoth tusks for a pair of dragon horns? Change out the leather for some dragonhide."
"You definitely look like you have tried very hard with your look." Brienne stated with a bit more ease in her tone, "But I definitely think you should swap up to dragon parts after you finish fucking it to death."
"Don't let these foulmouthed barbarians taint you, kid." I chided her.
"Did you really lay with Mika's mom and Sturn's sister?" She asked.
"Yeah." I answered.
"Why?" her virginal question made me chuckle.
"Cause it felt good… and apparently didn't bother anyone." I told her, "Do they respond so well to this kind of thing where you are from?"
"No." she shook her head, "I had a friend Tifa who took up with a man and her family disowned her. I was her only friend left after the rumors got out. They called her all sorts of terrible things, but I couldn't believe that about my friend… but I should have. Tifa ruined everything for me back home."
"I am sorry to hear that, kid." I sympathized with her, "The last guy who betrayed me got cut into three pieces. I tried for four, but I didn't get all the way through both arms in one swing and taking another would be unsportsman like."
A few smoking corpses lay about the Western Watchtower as we approached, but no dragon. I kept my eyes on the sky while everyone else spread out looking for survivors. In preparation I stabbed a handful of my big boy arrows into the ground and strung my humongous Skyforge Steel bow.
Jack and Aela did similarly at other positions and we waited calmly.
"Hurry up and get in here!" A man called from the tower, "That thing is still out their.
A roar echoed off the nearby mountains and a green dragon came bearing down on us from above.
When I say dragon, that is only in the Elder Scrolls sense of the word. Physically he is a wyvern, as he lacks the forelimbs of a proper dragon.
I sent up an arrow that tore through his wing membrane, but did not seem to cause him any trouble flying, and soon the other archers began firing upon the approaching beast, many missing, and others bouncing off his scales.
I missed my next two shots while the beast rained fire down on us in passing, but a third landed in the beast's side and caused it to cry out. It controlled its descent and upon landing used a clawed foot to pull the arrow out.
With the beast on the ground I sprinted over to it with my shield raised and the new and improved Mule in my hand. The beast's deadly fire was reduced in power by my connection to the Block Stars, allowing me to close distance without too much damage and smack the damn thing in the face with my hammer. As it reeled from the blow I circled around it and slammed my axe down in near the joint were its wings unfold and I yanked the scythe like axe underjaw down, splitting the wing and ensuring the beast couldn't take off again.
The maneuver put me in perfect position for the retaliatory tail strike that sent me flying. Thank God I broke my fall with my neck, otherwise I could have really been hurt.
The dragon didn't get the chance to admire his terrific golf swing as Jack hit him in the face with a Warp attack, the grinding sphere causing him to scream until she detonated it with a Shockwave that lifted the dragon slightly and primed it again for the detonation she caused with her biotic Charge. Jack arrived at the dragon in an instant and buried her sword in its chest before twisting it and walking the weakened beast down while our friends harried it from the sides.
After I collected my scattered thoughts off the ground, I ran at the big bastard and executed a Critical Charge attack that bit deeply into the dragon's neck. A trio of Savage Strikes later and the beast's head came away clean.
I took off my helmet and licked the tasty blood off my axe while the dead dragon lit up like the northern lights and the beast's soul was sucked into Brienne. While most people gaped at the girl, I grinned at the dead beast who had not turned into a pile of bones.
"Mika, Sturn." I yelled at the stunned guards, "Run back and have them send down some carts full of mead. As for the rest of you, get a bonfire going. The enemy brought the victory feast with him!"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
JManM
JManM Big chapter, both in word count and importance. Once again, Grunt's expectation was subverted and the Dragonborn he was hoping would roll Alduin like a joint and smoke him is a modern style hero rather than the traditional type.
While she is more a Frodo than the whiny whingy protagonists who just need to accept thier role to be great enough to overcome the big bad (Looking at you Gohan), she is definately not the epic style hero the Dragonborn is from the game.
Characters like Beowulf and Achilles epitomise the values of their cultures and are hard men who go out and face their hard fates head on. You don't get many tales like those any more and I hope that Grunt is the kind of protagonist that they are.
If you want to see a modern version of this kind of hero in film go watch the movie Extraction. Hemsworth's character Rake is the kind of unapologetic bad ass you don't often see in good movies anymore.
You can support me and my family at
ko - fi . com / jmanm
Chapter 51: Come On and Grab Your Friends
I'd have to check with the mages whether or not complete envy could cause adverse magical effects, because when the rest of the Companions returned from their various missions and saw the five of us decked out in dragon gear and practicing with our new dragon bone bows, I could see them transforming like gremlins that had been fed after midnight.
After testing I found that dragon bones couldn't hold an edge worth a damn, but could take a beating and a half and were quite springy, making them perfect for armor and bows. I also worked with the scales and wing leather to ensure that our pal, Mirmulnir, didn't go to waste. All in all the fight was a substantial upgrade for Aela, Athis, Kodlak, Jack, and me.
I was so thorough with using that guy that even his sinews were used for bow strings. It made me feel like one of those hippy dippy nature guys who is all about connecting to mother earth and the ancestors and respecting the animal for its sacrifice. Fuck those guys. Nature exists to kill you and the only reason you are alive is because your ancestors were hard as fuck and did their best to ram nature in the ass every chance they got. Every time one of those asshats gets mauled by a bear or killed by a deer I laugh.
Oh mister deer, you are so beautiful and majestic. OH MISTER DEER WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME WITH YOUR ANTLERS! OH NO, AHHH!
Good times.
We were halfway through dinner listening to Vilkas and Farkas planning out a tour of the old dragon burial mounds to search for another dragon to slay when Brienne of Bruma appeared.
The girl looked much improved since the fight with Mirmulnir, decked out in warm wool clothing with fine leather boots and coat over a chainmail hauberk. She finished her ensemble with a Whiterun yellow wool cloak and a new targe and dirk with a short spear that could double as a walking staff.
"Excuse me everyone." Brienne tried to speak over the boisterous dinnertime feasting.
"Excuse me!" She shouted over the din.
"The young Dragonborn has come to Jorrvaskr." Kodlak spoke, halting the various conversations, "How can we help you, girl?"
"I've been tasked with traveling to High Hrothgar, and though the Jarl has been very helpful, I do not know the way and have heard the path ahead is dangerous."
"Then you have come to the right place." Kodlak stated, "Many of us have made the climb, and for the right price will do so again as your escort."
"I'm afraid I do not have much in the way of coin." she shook her head, "When the Jarl offered to pay me for services rendered I asked that he help me gather what I needed to make the journey."
"Then you have nothing we want." Scoffed the sourpuss Njada Stonearm, "Away with you."
Brienne looked properly mollified by the refusal, and it appeared no one else was going to stick their necks out to help the literal Elder Scrolls Messiah. Like all things in life, it is better for the giant lizard man to lead the charge.
"Some Companions you all have turned out to be." I spat quite literally at Njada who leapt at me in anger and ate a knockout knuckle sandwich for her troubles.
"I'd been told that this is where the true spirit of Skyrim lives. Honor and blood and all that." I stood up and looked around, "But all I hear is 'Where's the gold?'. When the gods damned dragon born shows up looking for help on an adventure, even one that sounds simple, are we not the people who should leap at the chance. The dragons have returned and the Dragonborn comes, the world is changing and for all time it will be remembered that the Companions refused the call of adventure. But not me. You have my axe, Brienne."
I raised up The Mule and Jack looked at me like 'You did not just rip off the Council of Elrond, you fucking dork.'
She just sighed and lifted up her longsword, "And you have my blade." She deadpanned.
"And my bow." Agreed Aela.
Soon all of the Companions had declared themselves for the journey, even Njada after she got up and declared that she hadn't been knocked out.
"Then it is settled!" Kodlak declared, full of more vigor than I had ever seen him, "Tonight you join us for a feast in Jorrvaskr, Dragonborn. And tomorrow the Companions join you for the battles to come."
Brienne made her way over to me with a pair of misty eyes.
"I came here hoping I could just convince you and your wife to help." she said as she sat down, "And now you have rallied all the Companions to aid me. I don't know how I could ever repay you."
"It was silly of them not to see this for the offer it was." I shook my head, "The adventure of a lifetime. For the coming of the dragons means the coming of Alduin, the great black dread, the world eater, the end of existence."
"The dragon that destroyed Helgan!" Brienne looked at me with wide blue eyes hinting at panic.
"The very same." I nodded, "It will be up to us to defeat him, or he will devour the whole world. No pressure."
"That seems like a lot of pressure." Brienne looked at her empty plate full of anxiety.
"Don't worry about a thing, kid." I chucked as I loaded her up with meat and a side of meat on top of more meat, "You ain't never had a friend like me."
The next morning we locked down Jorrvaskr and gave the fragments of Wuthrad to the Jarl for protection. Once more the Loot Sled proved itself when we loaded it up with the provisions and supplies needed for the journey. Mostly we were loaded down with barrels of mead, but what more do a pack of badasses need for a road trip.
"I say we keep heading west from the towers and hit the burial mound in the hot springs." Farkas insisted while Skjor shook his head.
"That will add an entire week to our schedule." The older man denied.
"Come on Skjor!" Torvar begged, "Athis hasn't stopped rubbing his dragon scale hauberk in my face since we got back. If there is a chance there is a dragon in the area, we need to take it. Otherwise that smug elf will keep being an insufferable ass."
"Even if you do get to slay a dragon, I will always have the honor of being apart of the first to do so in this age." Athis smirked at the slovenly nord.
"Oh my!" Torvar mocked, "Remind us again about how you rode Jack and Grunt's coattails to an easy win."
"You say that like you wouldn't have run face first into a stream of fire, you worthless drunk." Athis countered.
"Enough." Skjor called, "We will camp out at the towers and Farkus will run ahead to check. If he sees a dragon in the area, then we will make the detour. Now be silent before I get angry."
"Where are the horses?" Brienne asked while looking at the huge load on the sled.
I just laughed and strapped myself into the harness.
As we set out on our way to High Hrothgar we did so to the weeping and lamentations of many women as they threw flowers down on the path.
"It fucking kills me every time I see this." Torvar muttered.
"What exactly is happening right now?" Brienne asked in concern.
"Everytime they find out Grunt is leaving they put together this big sendoff!" Torvar exploded, "Like the last source of good dick has left town and they will be in morning till he returns. I've got what you need right here!" he shouted and grabbed his junk.
"What you got and what he got can't even be called the same thing!" Someone in the crowd of weeping women shouted, "Take your sad penis elsewhere, Skyrim is for smooth lizard cock!"
I snorted when I heard that racist catchphrase perverted, quite literally. Who knew sex appeal and prowess was the cure for racism? Or is it that my dick is too powerful to be tied down by petty ignorance? I can fuck my way through the fabric of reality, so can I fuck my way through the evil in the human heart? It will require more testing, and I am sure the people of Skyrim are happy to help.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
JManM
JManM
The last two days have been rough, but I posted this anyways. Between allergies and fatigue I almost chose to not work on this today, but once you start doing that you will find more reasons to delay your writing until pretty soon you might as well let people know you have dropped the story.
Seen it happen a hundred times, and I don't want it to happen to me.
You can support me and my family at
ko - fi . com / jmanm
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