The Story of a Nord.
Chapter One - Introduction.
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Si'vey had just slaughtered a band of thugs on the road to High Hrothgar. She looked down upon the body of a sliced-up nord. A pity, he was a good man. She could tell from his eyes that he had a reason to be with this band of highwaymen. The rest of the people was Orcs and Dunmer. But none of them had the eyes like the nord. Honest, humble eyes. She started searching for anything useful on a dunmer. She got the impression that this person was the leader of the pack. His clothes were of dwemer-steel. Hard as dragonscale and with detail that could only be from a master-smith. Si'vey searched the pockets and found some gold, a drinking horn made out of mammoth ivory, and strangely - a leatherbound book. The book had a golden lock, and a sigil made of steel. The sigil had a emblem resembling a wolf. Odd - not many people could read in this part of Skyrim. Any less write. And this was a poor choice of lock. Golden, it would be easy to pry open once in safety. Safety - She chuckled. There was no such thing as "Safety" in skyrim.
The other thugs had nothing of value, exept a dagger and a couple of gold coins. She found some oil in a sack made from the bladder of a whale on a orc. She poured the oil over the nord and lit it on fire with her torch. As a nord, he should have the ending of a nord she told herself. Casting one last look at the nords face, turned around and began walking. She could see the Throat in the distance. She had a long climb ahead of her.
It was nighttime when she heard the howlings. This was not the howl of some forest wolf that had wandered to far north. This howl was deeper. Sadder. And it was close. Si'vey had been awake for at least five minutes. Her long golden hair was dripping with sweat. She sat in the bedroll, she was nervous. She grabbed her sword from next of the fire. She whispered "NAH" and the fire suddenly went out. She rose from the bedroll, slowly. She knew what was coming for her. But why? She had nothing of value. Nothing magical. What could stir the rage in a beast so intelligent. Darkness surrounded her. The howlings she had heard only minutes ago was now gone. Only silence and the slight breeze of the winds was to be heard. She looked around her. Nothing. Was it only her imagination? No, she knew. She could feel it's breath. She knew what she had to look for. A couple of big, amber eyes in the black shrubbery. She heard it. The breath of the beast was only a couple of meters away from her. She knew it would attack at any moment. White teeth ripping her flesh apart. This time it was clear what she had to do. She yelled. A deep, loud battlecry that made branches sway like if the wind took them. The beast roared and jumped out of it's hidingplace. But Si'vey was ready. She turned around, swinging her mighty sword. She knew she had hit it when the warm liquid splattered against her face. She smiled. But the beast was not done for. It just stood there. The yellow-orange eyes was examining her. She looked upon the wolf that stood infront of her. This was no ordinary wolf. It was high enough to reach her throat with it's ears. Almost as big as a bear. It's slender body was covered in grey fur. She knew that every hair on it's body was hollow, absorbing warmth and protecting the body. It's claws were sharper than most daggers and the mouth was filled with the biggest teeth you can imagine. But this was no mere animal. It's intelligence was beyond compare in terms of normal mammals. It snarled loudly, took a step back and leaped. "Shit" she cursed - not being prepared for another assault would prove a fatal mistake. She had just risen her sword when she saw the teeth tear into her leg. She screamed and stabbed the sword into the wolfs massive head. The grip loosened, but she was to late. She had heard the bone inside the leg break. The wolf was dying, but so would she if she didn't tend to the wound. She sank to her knees next to the Dire Wolf. This was bad. She would have to use all of her might to make it the last part of the journey. She took some of the linen bandage from her bag and tied it along with a log to stabilize the bone and minimize the bleeding. Damned. She had forgot the wolf -- it wasn't dead. She would have to bury it. Dire wolves was sacred to the nords. And if it wasn't buried, it's soul could not pass on to the afterlife. She took up her sword and looked into the eyes of the worg. They didn't show rage as they had done an hour ago. They were now deep brown and sad. It knew what would happen next. Si'vey took the sword and buried it deep inside the flesh of the wolf. She could feel it piercing the heart. Some time later she had put the wolf into it's final rest. She put stones on top of the grave, so that people passing by could see that here lay a mighty Dire wolf. Her leg hurt. But not as much as her heart. She knew that a dire wolf would not attack a nord unless he had done something to anger it. But she could not figure out what.
The first step. The throat was unusually calm this morning. Si'vey had slept bad in her bedroll, and with the leg hurting, she did not know if she could make the rest 6999 steps. She told herself that lesser men had climbed mountains without any legs at all, laughed a little, then carried on. Upwards. She was determined that she had to manage the rest of the journey. She carried something of great value. Not only for herself. But for the sake of Tamriel aswell. Step by step she climbed the great mountain. Each step made her body shiver. She feared that before she was at the top, her leg would crumble from the weight of her body.
Darkness. Black fog shrouded her vision. She felt her body floating in the universe. "YOU'VE FAILED" Arngeir yelled. She saw the giant black dragon flying amongst the starts. Alduin -- the world devourer.
She woke up in a bed. She was - for the first time in months - comfortable. Reindeer skin she noted. The bedsheets was made from it. In the corner of the room a fire burned brightly. The walls were made from cobblestone and on the ground, a mat made of the skin from a bear. She was finally in High Hrothgar. Arngeir sat on a stool next to the fire. He held the leatherbound book with the wolf sigil. It was open. "That book" She said "What is it". Arngeir looked up. He took a small breath, then paused. As if thinking if he should speak or not. Then he said - "It's a field journal". Si'vey replied - "Well, give it to me". "I want to read it". Arngeir smiled. "I think you've got enough to worry about" he said, and cast a look at her stomach. He was right. It was about time now. Nine month she had carried her soon-to-be son. She smiled. For nine month she had been protecting her stomach with all her power. "He won't be no ordinary boy" Arngeir said. "I know" Si'vir replied "I'm no ordinary woman". "It's not just that", Arngeir smiled. He closed the book. "You killed something in the woods. Didn't you". Si'Vir flinched. How could he know. "yes" Si'vir said, confused. "It was a Dire Wolf. It attacked me, but i do not know why". "I do" Arngeir said. "Then Tell me!". "Read the book, it will make everything clear". So Si'vir did just that. And it all became clear.
