~~~~A War-Smith's Lament~~~~
"'Sooner or later, we all have to choose a side', he said...?" Hverg sat on a bench in front of the wilted Gildergreen Tree in Whiterun. "Heh, ain't that the truth..." He took another drink of Honningbrew Mead. "I'm a War-Smith; of course I have to chose a side. But you say that like it's easy, don ya? Like it's as easy as flippin' a coin or spinnin' a sword... Heh, I wonder how long ima keep sayin' I've got no interest in the war. How long till it becomes true...or not....."
"....My pa, he was a heck of a Talos worshipper. In secret, anyways. He wanted me to understand, but I had no interest in Talos. I know most dads out there woulda felt disappointment or shame, cuz they're stubborn ol' crocks." He chuckled to himself lightly. "My pa, he just patted my head with a smile and said 'That's alright my boy.' That man, he had a firm belief that men and women should be allowed to live as they please. Even if I didn't worship or even believe in Talos, he still would've loved me like his own son. Way he said it, I believed he got that mindset for my sake... Anyways, he raised me up to be a fine young lad, and his teachings stuck firmly to my soul. Even now, I believe that mankind should live how it pleases."
His brow furrowed. "Which is why I was furious about that whole 'White-Gold Concordant' business. Abolishing the worship of Talos?My pa still tells me of the resentment he held, but having been an old war dog himself he knew the Thalmor were too strong. Looking back, the treaty was the best move, otherwise they'dve stomped on the Empire sooner or later. I got letters from me cousin in Skyrim, telling me about the dissatisfaction of the Nords there. By then, I had already picked up the hammer."
"My family has a lineage of smiths in it coming from me ma's side. She even told me her ancestors smithed the armor that ol' Talos ran into battle in. To this day I still think she had a bit too much o' the strong stuff, but I always loved how proud she was of her history. She used to say that the tide of battle could get turned at any time, if the losing side could just get some good arms on em. A good Battleaxe or a well-forged pauldron, and death turns into life and vice versa. Point is, power and protection. It's a smith's duty to see to both of these needs."
"She even forged a set of armor for my little Sabre Cat stuffed animal." Hverg chuckled as he took another drink.
"I'm a man now, and I think back to why..." He paused, as if swallowing his words. "....With each swing o' tha hammer, I kept my goals firmly in my heart. With my allies in arms, wearing armor that would protect them from almost anything, we would take the fight to the Thalmor and reclaim what we wanted most of all: The freedom to live as we desire. To that end, I wanted to join the Legion when my skills were sufficient enough. I thought if I could help unify us all, then we'd stand a chance. I wanted to be the one who provided the protection. I wanted to see soldiers raising a mug in joy from victory after victory. But more importantly, I wanted us to have a fighting chance. This was just a young lad's little dream, my own personal Ivory Tower. Somewhere along the line, that tower crumbled, and in it's place a fortress rose."
"I begged my pa to let me travel, so I could study with the best of em. Of course he was scared; his little cub goin' out on his own in such a dangerous world. That's why he came with me. Yup, my pa left everything he had in Cyrodiil and took me on a journey. Why?" He paused. "He believed in me." He rubbed his face. "That damn fool left everything behind for his foolish son's dream. If ma were alive she'd surely yell his ears off. Even then he'd go, if only to let his son live a life he could be proud of, unlike him. I traveled everywhere, learning from Orcs, Dunmer, you name it. By the time I turned 37 I could heat metal like the best of em."
"I was about 34 when I got into the War-Smith profession. By then, my dear pa had already passed to Sovngarde. I spent all my spare time either smithing or learning about arms and armor. I gained knowledge into basic fire magic from a good friend of mine. By 40 I was a true veteran. An' then I got the letter. It was another cousin of mine from my mother's side. Traveled all the way to Hammerfell just to see that man. Big ol' bear he was. Went back to his house and he gave me...a lot of things. First was a story from his family's past, about a man who forged armor and a crown from dragon bones. And the second..." He looked to his right hip, where his Mystic Smith's Hammer lay. "Was this hammer. Damn thing took the rest of the time up till now to learn how to wield properly. That bear never really explained where it came from..."
He looked up at the night sky. "An' now here I am, Hverg, a War-Smith with a hammer and a dream to create the greatest armor known to mankind. I thought that when I made my way to Skyrim, that everything would fall into place." Yet another drink. "Guess I'm still a kid inside." He looked down. "Captured by the Imperials, almost put to death on the Headsman's Block. By the same Imperials that I'd wanted to follow. Don't get me wrong; that didn't change my heart all that much but..."
A long pause....then finally, "I wanted to save my brothers. To do that, we need to fight together. We need to stop this senseless fighting; this isn't what Talos would've wanted to see. Brother fighting brother of a land they call their home. No man, no mother, wants to see that kinda thing happen. I wanted to stop the war, and bring back peace to the motherland. I wanted to join the Legion and fight so that I could free my brothers."
"...But I've just come back from saving a Stormcloak supporter from the clutches of the Thalmor. His family, the Gray-Manes, worried sick about their family. Meanwhile the Battle-Borns, supporters of the Empire, had been hiding news of his captivity? And they even threatened an old woman and insulted her son right in front of her face! Who in the nine holds does that?! But no, that's not the straw. It's the whole war..."
"I'd always believed in what my pa said, that each man was free to live how he pleased. And I do believe this. I don't hate the Legion; I hate the Thalmor. I thought that if I could fight for the Legion to unify the provinces then we could maybe take the fight to those damn elves. I mastered smithing for that very day, with the hopes of my gear being wielded by the Legionnaires that would become the heroes to Skyrim."
"I can't....." He lowered his head ever more so. "I want to fight; to free Skyrim. But....to do that, must I fight Skyrim itself? I must raise a weapon, forge a weapon, against the ones I want to protect? That makes no sense!" He rubbed his head in frustration. "After I'd escaped from Helgen alongside the Stormcloaks, after I'd saved the Gray-Mane's son. how can I just turn around and point my weapon at them? Will I have to face them one day? Will they be yet another enemy to be struck down by my weapon....? The thought... it's muddled up my head...and I have nightmares of the day when I must strike down the ones I saved. But I cannot just leave them to die, especially by the Thalmor's hands I..."
Tears began to sneak their way from his eyes. "This isn't right..."
He paused for a long moment...then wiped them. "But I still dream. I swing the hammer down, thinking of that dream. The dream that Stormcloaks and Legionnaires, that brothers can join together like in the old days, and become family again. That the whole of Skyrim can live and worship as they please, without fear of persecution. That people who were once as close as family will never have to face each other in battle again, nor feel the cold sting of watching their kin bleed out in front of then, their own blades having pierced the heart... I....."
As he continued to sit there for a moment, a familiar voice called out.
"There you are my Thane! I had been looking everywhere for you!" Lydia came by, panting and with a worried look on her face. Hverg had gone on his own after returning to Whiterun from Northwatch. He seems to have gotten separated from her as he sat and lamented to...himself. Indeed, there was no one there to listen to his sorrow; only the wind and Gildergreen paid any heed to his tale.
"Ah, I'm fine I just needed a moment's rest. You uhhh... go rest up at the Inn I'll be up in a moment." He tried desperately not to let it slip that he'd had a moment to himself.
"As you wish, my Thane." Lydia did as she was told and headed to The Bannered Mare, leaving Hverg alone once more. He lowered his head, returning to where he once was.
He could feel the presence of another yet again, though this time it wasn't Lydia; It was a small girl; Lucia was her name. She was a beggar child, and often sat near the tree, asking for coin. Although Hverg could do little to help the poor girl, he did offer gold when he could. She was a precious child, and the sad look she had did not befit her. Even now, she looked him with a dejected look. She slowly walked towards him and placed her hand on his, giving a bow before returning to...wherever it was she slept at night. When he looked down to his hand he could see a lone Septim. He sat and watched that coin for what felt like an eternity before gripping it tightly. He took a deep breath before straightening himself and returning to The Bannered Mare.
"Lydia..." She had been sitting in front of the fire, watching the Bard play 'Ragnar the Red'. He still held the coin firmly in his hand, as if he were scared some horrible spirit would appear and snatch it away.
"Yes my Thane?"
"I want you to.." He cleared his throat, as if pushing aside all the doubt that welled up within his throat. "I need you to return to Dragonsreach. Remain on standby there for now, and protect the Jarl with your strength until I return."
Lydia's face held mild shock, but still she asked. "Dragonsreach? Why? Have I done something wrong I- Was it because I interrupted you...what 'were' you doing on that bench?"
He placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. I...just remembered why I took up the hammer is all. I'll be leaving for a while. But I'll be back, so you'd better stay sharp. Wouldn't want that armor goin' to waste now would we?" He chuckled in his usual energetic tone, which seemed to lighten Lydia's mood as well.
"Yes, my Thane."
The next day, he prepared his gear for a trip to the other holds. He had a more definite goal now: He would find someone worthy of donning his ultimate armor and fight alongside them for the sake of this land which many called home. No matter which side he fought for he was resolute in his beliefs now, having found the true motivation he needed to push forward. Having steeled his determination, Hverg set out on his true journey.
Comments
But that's not a no, so possibly.
Pretty cool. Will this have a part two?