Retreat into myself

This finds me in Dawnstar after many weeks.  It has been some time since I have been in these pages.  Much has happened. 

I awoke one morning realizing suddenly that the western watch tower that was on fire, made no sense.  The map the steward of Whiterun was examining showed the legion forces clearly to the east.  The tower should rest securely in Whiterun's hands.  I remember the rumour of the dragon being about, so I grabbed a quick breakfast.  The college could wait.   I tried to dissuade Faengal from coming, but he insisted.  It was not a far ride and the tower still burned.  Observing from a distance I saw the soldiers of Whiterun with blades drawn but no enemy apparent.  So I dismounted and walked down to see what I could learn.

Suddenly, a dark dreadful shadow crossed the sky and flames rain down upon us all.  If this was Martin, he was trying to kill me.  With Glamdring in one hand and the power of lightening in the other I fought for my life.  And won.  Glamdring is now the slayer of dragon.  She is now Amarthamlung, dragon doom in the ancient tounge.

The soldiers who survived looked at me with wonder, shock,... dread. "Dragonborn" they called me.  What is dragon born I asked?  They told me of a myth of old, of dragon lords who upon killing their foe absorbed their power, power which manifested in voice.  At those words, the hidden word inside me pulsed.  I climbed a rock and gave voice to the word and a great power flew from me, a power of pure force shoving all away that was infront of me.  The looks of dread turned to horror in some and amazement in others.

I fled.  Retreating into my home and my books searching for insight, for answer.  What was I?

But nothing could I find in my collection.  Only an obscure reference in one writing to a potion that might make one invisible using vampire dust.  Of all things.  Maybe being invisible would be a good thing.

I returned to the fort to look upon the bones.  This was not Martin, the once emperor.  The dragon was too small.  This was something new.  The watch captain approached and helped me take specimens of the bone.  And he shared a concern that no word had been heard from the fortress just to the east.  So I decide to ride out to see.  It looked fine as I approached, sentries on the wall.

Bandit sentries and a mage.  Inside I found a dead imperial soldier.  And burned bodies. Why burned?  There was no hint of answer for this.  This is land of riddles.

Faengal and I turned back to head into Whiterun to share with the steward that dragons were about.   The watch captain had ordered me to speak to the Jarl, but to be honest, I am not ready to be a puppet of a petty king and his war on dragons.  Not until I know more about the beast, about myself, about if they have any connection to Martin.  As we drew near the stables once again that oppressive dark force was felt and a horrible shout was heard.  But then nothing.  After a bit the crickets sang again.  I looked at Faengal and he said nothing, but we both knew a dragon has passed overhead and likely not a small one like the one I had faced.  And it felt like rage.

The city is abuzz. Even though it was night, a guard stopped me asking "are you dragon born"?   It will be necessary to return to the college, but first it must quieten down.

I sold a few things, closed my house once again, and Faengal and I sat out for Riverrun.

Faengal's love interest had a gift for me.  Two very fine sets of light armour, one in white and red and one in white and blue. Amazing workmanship.  But I don't feel ready for such yet.  My ability to enchant so anemic now, that I will wait hoping for it to mature to make the most of such garments.

Riverrun is the most temperate of what I have seen in the north.  It is winter, but there is still green here and much game.  So I took a few days to go hunting. I took a few deer, wolves, even a couple fox.... and a small dragon.  It attacked me on the slopes southwest of the village.  Small but deadly.  Amarthmalung once again drank the blood of a dragon.  But this time though I felt the power wash over me, it did not become part of me.  The other word remains locked inside my soul. 

Looking at the bones, I watched the rain drip from its massive head.  My eyes narrowed as I remember it had been raining too at the tower.  Was rain and storm somehow connected, a harbinger perhaps of their coming?

I returned to town and its people once again welcomed me.  I immersed myself in manual labor focusing on learning the skills of turning skins to leather.  I made myself a number of belt pouches.  I never seem to have enough pockets.  It will be a useful tool.  And they are nice if I do say so myself, a pale gray to match my armour thanks to learning how to make a gray dye from local flowers.

I talked Faengal into staying in town convincing him he needed to spend some time with his love interest.  I snuck back to my home in Winterrun to store dragon bone.  Who knows it may be useful.

I left heading north further into the cold for Dawnstar and later the college.  I found a dead mage on the road and a mercenary looking for work, but I had none.  And in Dawnstar I once again found the smugglers cache with some useful items.  I don't take all.  I don't want them to catch on that I know it is there, but I'll continue to check it when I pass through town.