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Old 04-09-2012, 07:01 AM
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Default Re: TES V: Skyrim - Dovahkiin Reborn

A Plan In Motion

He became aware of the pain in his belly first. It felt like his insides were on fire. With a groan he opened his eyes and sat up, trying to ignore the increase in pain as he moved. His vision was blurry at first, but, slowly, his eyes adjusted to the light. It took his fuzzy brain a moment to realize he was in a different room. The room was warm, but he felt a slight chill on his bare chest from the sweat making contact with the open air. He looked down and saw that his wound had been dressed. He felt stomach sick.

Everything was slowly returning to him, the abduction of Ralof's family, the assassin, and Farengar's client. That sword, he thought as he threw his feet over the side, it was an Akaviri katana. He knew it for sure. He'd seen those dozens of times. He had used them before. The Akaviri katana was the signature weapon of the Blades, the once dragon hunters, and personal guards to the Emperor. They were sworn to follow and protect the Dragonborn. Once the Oblivion Crisis hit, the Blades were paramount to the salvation of Tamriel from the invasion of the daedra from Oblivion.

The last Dragonborn emperor died at the end of the Third Era. The Blades had no emperor to serve, and thus were cast aside, nothing but relics of a time now gone. Either this woman had a relic and was unaware of its origins, or she was in contact with the Blades. If that was true she probably was one. If the Blades still existed they would be honor bound to help him.

He stood. His legs felt weak from lack of use. How long was I unconscious, he thought, more importantly, who treated me? The empty, sour feeling in his stomach and the stiffness of his muscles was a familiar feeling. Poison, he thought with a sigh, the damn assassin's blade was poisoned.
He should have figured that earlier.

He spotted a mug on the stand next to the bed. Greedy with thirst he reached for it, his thirst now all but unbearable, "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he heard a woman's voice say from behind him, "you'll regret it when you feel like your insides are going to explode."

Smiling, Revak took a small sip. The water wasn't cool, but refreshing nonetheless. Sadly, he put the still full mug down on the stand. He turned and saw the woman who had saved him standing in the doorway. Her leathers were gone, replaced by civilian clothes, and she only had a steel dagger at her side. "You speak from experience?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her. She was a Breton; he could tell that much by her height, and her light hair and eyes. She was older, if Revak were to guess he would say in her fifties, but she was obviously in good shape.

"Something like that," she said with a smirk. She closed the door behind her, "You and I need to talk."

Revak nodded, "We do," he said as he made his way, slowly, to the table where there was a wicked looking ebony dagger and a folded note. Curious, Revak opened the note, revealing a large black hand printed on it. The Black Hand, he thought as he folded the note, I should have known that it was the Dark Brotherhood. "The Dark Brotherhood," he said setting the note down and picking up the ebony blade gently. It was a fine blade, something that the Brotherhood would have used back in their prime, "I forgot about them."

The woman took the dagger from him, "Well, it's going to be hard to forget about them from now on." She put the dagger down, "They aren't going to forget this, and they don't give up on hits." She looked at him, "They are going to hunt you until you die."

"Not unless I run into them first," he said with a smile as he turned back toward the bed and sat down, wincing from the pain.

"You don't seriously expect to challenge the Dark Brotherhood?"

"No," Revak laughed, "but if I run into them, I'll remember this." She smiled.

"So," he said, "do I get to learn the name of the person who probably saved my life?"

"Probably?" she raised her brow.

"Well," Revak shrugged, "he might have missed, you never know."

"No, I guess not."


She smiled, "My name is Delphine."

"Well then," he said, offering his hand, "Delphine, I thank you." She took his hand; Revak smiled at the strength of her grip. "So, that was an interesting blade you used last night."

"I saved you life and you're interested in swords?"

Revak stood, "You know who I am," she said nothing. "You know what I am?" Nothing. "I know what you are."

She crossed her arms, "Do you?"

"I do, Blade."


Revak took a step toward her, "It's been a long time since you were called that, wasn't it? After all, weren't the Blades undone?"

Delphine's eyes grew wide, "How do you know?"

"Your sword," he said calmly. "The Akaviri katana, it's not very common," he explained.

"Good eye."

"You weren't just saving an innocent man; you were saving me for a reason, why?"

She sighed, "Because I've heard the rumors. You're Dragonborn?"

Revak nodded, "I am."

"Follow me," she said as she walked to the wardrobe in the corner.

Curious, Revak followed and watched as Delphine opened the door, pushed aside the clothes and pulled a hidden lever. Suddenly, the back wall of the wardrobe slid to the left, revealing a stone staircase going to a hidden basement. Delphine went down the stairs, Revak following slowly but surely behind her. It took a moment for Revak's eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Once adjusted he saw a table in the center of the room, covered with maps and books, a chest in the corner, a book shelf and an alchemist table along the back wall. Along the wall to the right was a weapon rack, containing three Akaviri katanas.

"Very nice," he said once he was finished taking in his surroundings.

"I'm sure you understand the need for secrecy."

He nodded, "Of course. So, Delphine, who are you really?"

She leaned on the table and sighed, "One of the last of the Blades. How much do you know of them?"

"More than I should," he said as he moved slowly to the table. "They were - are - an ancient order, meant to protect and serve the Dragonborn. In the beginning they were dragon hunters and joined the Dragonborn to hunt dragons. Later, they were guardians to the Dragonborn Emperors. After the Oblivion Crisis, and after the death of Martin Septim, they were left without a clear purpose."

Delphine nodded solemnly, "Ever since we've been fighting where we're needed. I fought against the Aldmeri Dominion in the Great Dominion destroyed us. The Thalmor hunted us down, killing each member of the Blades they could find. They've been hunting the Blades ever since, now only myself and Esbern remain."

Delphine paused and shook her head, "We questioned them. We stood for what he Empire truly is, what it was meant to be, and we suffered for it."

"And what is that?" Revak asked, curious as to what her response would be.

"A union of Tamriel under one banner, a union of peace and brotherhood, ruled by the Dragonborn descended from Tiber Septim himself."


She nodded, "That was the biggest blow to the Blades. Removing Talos from the Divines? Not only had the Empire turned into a bastardized version of itself, but it abandoned it's most holy and iconic man that ever lived. It's founder! For our sake, I hope Talos finds mercy to those that still worship him, even in secret."

He does, Revak thought, "I agree."

She looked at him, determination in her eyes, "You truly are Dragonborn?" Revak nodded. "I've been tracking your progress since Bleak Falls Barrow," she said, "You've never been to the Greybeards. Instead you learned to Shout from the dragon at the watchtower."


She pointed out numerous points she'd marked along the map, "These are dragon burial sites," she began. "The fact that the dragons are returning isn't merely by chance. Something is bringing them back. What that is I don't-"

"I do," Revak interrupted. Delphine stared at him, "Alduin has returned."

"Alduin," she said slowly, "I recognize the name..."

"Alduin the World Eater, End Bringer, First Born of Akatosh," Revak said with a scowl, "he is the opposite of Akatosh; as Akatosh creates, Alduin was to destroy. According to legends, Alduin had forsaken his ancient role to bring the end of the world, and instead he wanted to control it. So the Nords of old, the Dragonborn, supposedly defeated him."

"But if he was defeated, how can he be back?"

"It said they 'defeated' him, not that they destroyed him. How can you destroy a god?"

Delphine frowned, "If this is true... what are we to do?"

"It is no mere coincidence that I, a Dragonborn, appeared just as the dragons return to Skyrim."

Delphine looked confused, "What do you mean?"

"I was sent by the Divines to stop Alduin, at all costs."

"Sent by the Divines? So what, they brought you back to life?"

"In a way. You don't need to believe me now, I'm sure it will make itself more obvious in time, but you and I have the same goal; to stop these dragons," he paused, taking in her reaction.

"Agreed," she said finally, "we must stop these dragons, whatever they are planning, whether it's this Alduin, or just a crazed act of nature." Revak held back a sigh of relief. He was worried that this would go the same way as it had with Lydia; instead Delphine asked no further questions, just left the posibility hanging in the air. "In any case," she pointed at a mark on her map, "Kynesgrove, I believe this is our next dragon. If we can catch them as they come back..."

Revak smiled, "It might save some lives."

"Exactly," Delphine said, "and if you really are Dragonborn, this is your chance to prove it to me."

It made sense that she would be skeptical, "Of course." Revak touched his bandages, "How long until I will be able to fight?"

She shook her head, "I'm not sure, let's go back upstairs and see how it's healing. The poison that was on the blade was a nasty concoction."

Going back up the stairs was more difficult that descending. Revak had to use Delphine as a crutch in order to get back up them. The room was spinning by the time they made it back to the bed. Carefully, Delphine removed the bandages. Revak winced as the fabric brushed against the wound. Once the bandages were removed Revak could see the injury for the first time. He had been stabbed in the left side of his belly. It was a long wound that was deep at the point of impact, then slid toward his side, leaving a long and ugly gash. He knew instantly that he would scar from the cut, "How long has it been?"

"Two days, you were lucky he missed your internal organs," Delphine said, reaching for fresh bandages. "It has healed well for how long it's been, the poison probably slowed the healing somewhat," she said as she began rewraping his injury.

Revak nodded, "I figured as much. I should be fine in maybe a few days."

"Five at least; we'll see, but we need to get to Kynesgrove, if you aren't well enough by then..."

"I'll travel injured," Revak smiled, "I'll make it."

She returned his smile as she finished wrapping his bandages.

Finally, Revak had a plan.

Filler chapter as well as good 'ol character development.

Remember to review or message me with criticism or suggestions! They make me a better writer!

Shout out to Knotted, and their fanfiction on called "Dragonsong" who's Dragonborn is also named 'Revak'! Great minds think alike! Check out their fanfiction!
Fanfiction |Gamertag: PhantomX0990
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Old 05-07-2012, 08:44 AM
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Default Re: TES V: Skyrim - Dovahkiin Reborn

Phantom Sky Hunt


Kynesgrove turned out to be nothing more than a small mining village just South of Windhelm. It was literally nothing more than a mine, inn, and abandoned lumber mill. Revak scratched absentmindedly at his armor where he knew the scar from the assassin hid underneath. Under Revak's insistence, he and Delphine had traveled a mere three days after Revak had awoken after the Dark Brotherhood blade attempted to gut him like a fish. He had kept the wicked ebony blade and carried it with him, a reminder that if he were to ever run in to another member of the Brotherhood that he would return it.

They traveled in full armor, and constantly on their guard. Regularly, Delphine would look over her shoulder, as if fearing to find another assassin trailing behind them. She was under the constant fear that the Thalmor were hunting her still. Revak tried to comfort her by reminding her that she was no longer alone; she reminded him that he was Dragonborn, and that if anyone knew his whereabouts, it'd be the Thalmor.

Despite being weighed down by armor and injury they traveled quickly, only stopping to water their horses and to sleep in short shifts. As they passed under the great mountain that lead to the Throat of the World Revak hung his head. He knew he was defying the Greybeards by not climbing the Seven Thousand steps now, but he had a mission, and stopping the dragons, any dragon, was more important that meeting with old men on mountains.

As they traveled Delphine told him of her life; her battles in the First War, the multiple attempts on her life (she once killed an entire Thalmor assassination team.), and how she was trying to keep the traditions of the Blades alive. Each night and morning she prayed to the gods, to Talos specifically. In fact, Revak noticed that she would grasp her amulet of Talos as if to remind herself that it was still there. He couldn't help but smile as he stole glances of her doing this, but she quickly would hide the amulet under her armor, safe from the world and from his eyes.

His nights were becoming sleepless. Memories of his life long lived were bleeding into his dreams. His dreams were of battles long since forgotten. One night he had dreamed of the battle of Sancre Tor; the bloody battle between the Bretons, Nords, and Imperials that had given him his Empire. He saw the faces of the men and women that he'd killed as he lead his army beneath the keep. His days were spent in silence, meditating on the images of the night before.

One day they saw an lonely shrine on the road. The stone relic was crushed, and the name of the god it was for had been removed by a rough hand, but that only made it more obvious that it was a shrine to Talos. "Dragonborn, do you worship the gods?" Delphine had asked him.

"Of course," Revak had curtly responded as they rode.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I just never notice you praying or even mentioning them."

Revak shook his head, "I do, but I guess I've been... out of practice of late."

"Do you worship Talos?" she asked, her hand on her chest where Revak knew her amulet lay beneath.

"Yes," he said slowly, "in a way." That was the last he would speak of it.

It was late in the afternoon when they finally saw the Braidwood Inn. It was late fall in Skyrim. The sun hid behind a thick layer of clouds, and still sweat soaked their horses, threatening to freeze. Revak's mood rose as he saw the inn, for it meant food, shelter from the cold, and a chance for sleep. He dreamed of a fire, a cup of ale, and a warm meal.

Sadly that would remain a dream.

A farmer was running down the road, catching the attention of a Stormcloak patrol. Delphine and Revak followed the patrol as they intercepted the farmer. The Stormcloak stopped the poor man, "Trouble?" he asked.

The farmer stopped, catching his breath, "A dragon!" he gasped, "a huge black dragon!"

Revak spurred his mare forward, "Where?"

"Up the hill, by the old mound!"

Revak put on his horned helm, "Delphine, take the patrolman and get reinforcements," he drew his Akaviri Katana, "I'll go to the burial mound."

He was about to turn to run of up the path when Delphine called to him, "Dragonborn!" Revak stopped, and looked at the Blade. Her eyes spoke of fear and concern, "Fight well." Revak smiled and turned, his horse going full speed up the sparse dirt road.


Delphine watched sadly as the Dragonborn disappeared from sight. Her horse sense fear and grew restless, prancing about where it stood, "You," she said to the farmer, "find somewhere safe," the farmer nodded and ran off toward the fields. "Stormcloak," she said to the soldier, who had an almost comical look of confusion on his face, "is there a post nearby?" He nodded and lead her down the road.

There was a small tower near the end of the town. It was a crumbling relic of the old Empire, but the Stormcloaks were like roaches. They would take cover and use whatever supplies they could muster, and if using abandoned Imperial outposts was necessary they would certainly make due.

"Captain!" the Stormcloak patrol called as he neared the outpost. An old soldier in a bearskin cloak stepped from the tower, followed by two more Stormcloak soldiers.

"What is the meaning of this? Who is this" the old bear asked.

The patrol stopped running, breathing heavily, Delphine spoke for him, "Reinforcements are needed in the village," she said, sitting tall in the saddle.

"Who are you?"

Delphine frowned, "It doesn't matter who I am," she said, "what matters is that there's a dragon at the burial mound and a man has gone to fight it alone."

The bear cursed, "Then he is a fool."

Delphine drew her sword, rage fueling her words, "He is the Dragonborn!" she yelled, her sword eager at her side, "show some respect!"

The bear stared at her for a moment, "Dinalla," he said to the young Stormcloak woman beside him, "get my horse."

As Revak crested the hill he saw the great black dragon circling the ancient mound. The darkness that he felt in his heart at the sight of it confirmed that it was Alduin.

A black cloud was spinning from the mound as Alduin hovered and chanted in the Dragon Language. The worm either did not notice him, or it paid him no attention. Revak's horse began to fret, refusing to continue toward the black beast. He dismounted, taking his steel shield once his metal boots hit the fresh powder of snow below. His horse fled, screaming as it sped back down the path.

Sword and shield in hand, Revak marched toward the mound, "DRAGON!" he shouted at the beast. The dragon made sound that was a mix between a growl and a roar as it hovered above the mound; Revak could almost imagine the beast laughing at him.
The dragon stared at Revak, his burning red eyes flared, "Dovahkiin," the World Eater said, his voice made the world grow cold and dark and made a chill run down Revak's spine, "Daar Lein los dii." He breathed a white mist into the black cloud.

The ground shook. Revak struggled to stay on his feet. From the dragon mound a skeletal dragon burst forth, spraying rocks and dirt in its wake. A bright light came from the dragon, blinding Revak. He cursed and put up his shield, not knowing what would happen while he was indisposed. The light dispersed. Revak lowered his shield.

The skeletal dragon had become flesh. Its scales were white as the new snow, and they sparkled like ice in the morning light; beautiful and dangerous. The beast crawled from its former resting place and Shouted to the heavens, "FRO KRAH DIIN!" a blast of ice blue frost streamed into the air. Frost breath, Revak remembered. The white dragon dipped its head in respect to Alduin, "Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik."

Alduin roared in response, "Sahloknir, krii daar jor!" Revak didn't need to speak the Dragon Language to know that the Worm had commanded the white dragon to kill him. The white dragon, Sahloknir Revak guessed, turned toward him as Alduin flew away, roaring as he fled. Revak held up his shield and waited for the dragon to make its first move. Revak's heart was beating wildly in his chest. He had no tower to jump from this time, and no plan.

The dragon stepped toward him, baring its teeth as it spoke, "I am Sahloknir! Hear my Voice and despair!" He Shouted a stream of ice at Revak, who barely managed dodged in time.

"You will die, dragon!" Revak called as he returned to his feet, his shield still held high.

Sahloknir hummed, "My Lord Alduin requires your death. I am happy to oblige him, " he said as he breathed another spray of frost, just missing Revak, "Hiding will not save you mortal!"

Revak charged, dodging Sahloknir's elemental breath by inches, but managing to bash the white dragon in the snout, "You mortals have grown arrogant while I slept!"
"Perhaps you are the one who's grown arrogant?" Revak said as he rushed back, dodging the dragon's claws. He felt the power of the dragon's blood flowing within him, "FUS RO DAH!" he Shouted. The dragon was buffeted backwards, using his wings to keep his balance.

"Your Voice is strong Dovahkiin," he released a blast of flame, forcing Revak back even further. Fire and ice? Revak cursed as he charged again, shield above his head he dived as another stream of flame flew over him, heating his shield and scalding his shield arm. He managed to slash at the beast's throat. He broke through it's scales and the dragon roared in pain. Revak was nearly crushed as the dragon took to the skies, blood trailing behind it like a comet's tail.

Revak screamed in defiance as the dragon dived at him, roaring as it fell from the heavens. The dragon crashed, parting the ground like water as it fell. Revak was knocked away. He felt his breath knocked out of him as he hit the ground. He lay there, gasping for breath. He slowly stood, the world spinning around him. The dragon stood, but was obviously hurt. It moved slowly and did not bother to speak to Revak again.

Revak half limped half marched to the dragon, who bared its teeth and growled, "I am Talos Stormcrown," the dragon stared, at a loss for words, "in the name of the
Divines I WILL DESTROY YOU!" he charged, sword high and shield low, ready to die, but also ready to kill the beast before him. His flesh began to glow gold, the blessing of a god made flesh. For the first time since he arrived in Skyrim... Revak was Talos once more.

Sahloknir tried to crunch the Dragonborn in his jaws, but the swift Dragonborn sidestepped him. The dragon was blinded by Talos' aura. The white worm was left wide open, and Talos took the opportunity. He stabbed the beast in the eye, once, twice, three times. Sahloknir roared in pain and despair as the blade sunk deep into his eye, and deep into it's brain. The dragon collapsed, shuddered once, then moved no more.

Revak stood, frozen in time as the soul of the dragon joined his. A bright gold and white stream enveloped him, giving him the power and knowledge of the felled dragon. When it was over Revak stood, burned, damaged, and tired. He stepped away from the dead dragon, taking in the sight.

He saw Delphine and the Stormcloaks coming up from behind him. He smiled when she stopped, frozen in awe. "Do you believe I am Dragonborn now?" he laughed.
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Old 05-15-2012, 07:19 AM
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Default Re: TES V: Skyrim - Dovahkiin Reborn

A/N: So this chapter new things, folks, new things. It's one of those 'in between' chapters, but trust me I am VERY excited for the next few chapters. I hope you are too. I promise longer chapters from here on out, as well as more characters. I will also try to update more.

The Next Step

Bardak the Bold

The Nord stood over the body of a white dragon. His horned helm cast a shadow that obscured his face from view, and his steel armor was painted with blood and grime. The warrior's sword was sheathed deep inside the eye of the beast. But that was not why Bardak the Bold and his ragtag company of six Stormcloaks was frozen where they stood. Bardak was stunned because he had just witnessed the warrior take in something from the dragon. He had heard the legends, every true born Nord had; the legends of the Dragonborn. It was a tale told to young children before they went to bed, something only adults would dream of. It was often told that the Nords of old, the descendants of the First Men, had learned to take in the power of the dragons they killed, and use it against them. They fought for freedom and glory. One of them even became a Divine. They were the pride of the Nord race, and, until now, Bardic thought they were only legends.

This man was Dragonborn.

Without a word Bardak drew his ax. It was an ancient weapon that had been in his family for generations; passed down from father to son. He fell to his knees, laying his weapon on the fresh snow before him. This was an act of respect to some, and an act of fealty to others. His Stormcloaks followed, for they too, knew what they had just been witness to.

The Dragonborn removed his sword from the beast's skull. Black blood coated the blade from tip to hilt. He thrust the still bloodied blade into the snow covered ground. Using both hands he removed his helm, allowing Bardak to see his face for the first time. The old Stormcloak captain was surprised to see how young he was. The Dragonborn's brow gleamed with perspiration, and his face and short blonde hair were caked with mud, soot, and blood.

Bardak held his breath as the warrior, the Dragonborn he reminded himself, march towards him. Bardak lowered his bear skin hood as the Dragonborn knelt in front of him. He met Bardak's old brown eyes with the Dragonborn's deep midnight blue ones. "Why do you kneel, Stormcloak?" he asked softly.

Bardak dipped his head, breaking eye contact, "Because I am a true Nord, and you are a Dragonborn of legends."

The Dragonborn stood slowly, and offered Bardak his hand. Confused and in awe, Bardak took it, and they stood, together, "Stand," the Dragonborn said, "this legend been written yet."


They would eat and stay for free that night at the Braidwood Inn. The inn keep was very gracious to the Dragonborn for slaying the white dragon. He even swore he would name his next son after him. The Dragonborn smiled and said he was honored, but that 'Revak' was an ugly name. Nonetheless the Inn was small. Its spread was sparse as the crop had been small that year, and so much of their inventory depended on the generosity of traveling merchants, which were, according to the keep, "Growing more and more skittish" as more and more sightings of dragons were being reported.

The entire population of Kynesgrove attended their little victory get together, all twelve of them, plus the Stormcloaks who had arrived with the captain Delphine had nicknamed in her head 'the Old Bear'. In truth, this Old Bear was only a few years older than herself. The cook served a thin but filling venison stew with carrots and cabbage. The soup was served hot, but by the time that the villagers let Delphine and the Dragonborn stop telling stories and eat it had grown cold. Delphine smiled when she spied the Dragonborn whispering to his stew, which was suddenly steaming. She guessed that it was probably improper use of the Voice, but she ignored it and passed him her bowl as well.

Where the Inn was lacking in food they were rich in alcohol, and soon the residents of Kynesgrove were laughing louder, tipping their drinks, and the Stormcloaks were comparing battle scars. The Dragonborn, Delphine noticed, politely refused drink, but he still laughed amongst the men, and was asked multiple times to spin them the story of how he'd defeated the dragon back at the Whiterun Western watchtower.

The women were swooning over the young Dragonborn. Delphine was sure that one who was particularly deep in her cups had actually proposed to him. But Delphine was impressed with the Dragonborn. He knew how to handle himself. He was always polite and courteous, and he always seemed know exactly what to say. He knew how to work a crowd. Only once one of the residents picked up a lute and started a very off key rendition of "Ragnar the Red" did the Dragonborn pull Delphine aside, "I think it's time we leave these folks to their festivities," he said just loud enough for her to hear. "Let's go up to my room, we need to talk."

Delphine nodded, "That we do," she agreed. She followed him up the stairs to the room he rented at the end of the hall. It was a simple room, inhabited by only a bet and trunk. The Dragonborn's armor rested on his trunk, cleaned and shined to perfection. He shut the door behind her, muffling yet another rendition of "Ragnar the Red".

"These small village folk know how to celebrate," he smiled.

"With Skyrim how it is," she shook her head, "you learn to celebrate whenever you can."

"I think we should split up," he said suddenly. Delphine was taken completely off guard. Her mouth sat agape, and she was about to ask what in Oblivion he was talking about when he put up a hand, "We know that Alduin is bringing back the dragons, but I can't just fight these dragons every blasted time he brings one back." He shook his head and continued, "For all we know he is raising another dragon as we speak. We were lucky this time, that's all. We need to stop this at it's source; Alduin."

Delphine scowled, she wasn't liking this, "And what are you suggesting, O wise Dragonborn?"

Now it was his turn to scowl, "Stop it, Delphine, you know that I wouldn't suggest anything without thinking it through. I need to go to the Greybeards. They're the only ones who might have any information on what to do with Alduin, or how the ancient Dragonborn stopped him before. But we also need to stop the dragons so they don't kill half the population of Skyrim before I can stop Alduin."

She looked at him, wondering whether or not the world had been cursed with a mad Dragonborn, "And how exactly am I supposed to fight dragons?"

He laughed, "I don't even know how I do it."


"You mentioned another Blade before."

"Esbern. He and I are constantly being hunted by the Thalmor. He went into hiding years ago. I haven't seen him or heard from him since," but she doesn't mean that she hadn't been looking.

The Dragonborn thought for a moment, "Then if anyone has any idea where he is, it's them. Find a way, Delphine, I know you have some plan. I leave for Ivaarstead on first light."

At that the conversation was over as he opened the door for her, "I'll find a way to contact you if I figure anything out."


He had to admit, he was nervous about going off alone. He had grown used to the Blade's company, but he was positive that she could handle the task he set out for her. Returning the Blades to their ancient roles as dragon hunters he thought was the best plan they could follow. He did not sleep well, knowing that she wouldn't be happy when she awoke at dawn and found his room empty. After a few hours of fitful sleep he woke, donned his armor, and slowly moved down the hallway. When he reached the tavern floor he found it empty. Even the inn keep was gone, Revak took the opportunity to take some supplies from the cupboard. He felt bad for taking the supplies, and even leaving a few coins behind, he knew, wasn't worth the price of the food.

His horse was still tacked from the day before. He mounted and rode South towards Ivaarstead.


It took almost three days to reach Ivaarstead. The town was larger than Kynesgrove, but compared to Whiterun it was tiny. He rode into the town, feeling the eyes of the villagers as he passed. They did not bother to speak to him. They were so used to pilgrims coming to the town before climbing the Seven Thousand Steps. He was tired and road weary, and decided to stay a night at the inn before Vilemyr Inn, Revak found, was better equipped to handle travellers than the Braidswood had been. He greeted the inn keep, ordered a meat pie, and sat in front of the hearth. He listened as a golden haired bard played her lute softly in the corner.

The morning was cold and the sky was overcast when Revak crossed the bridge and began his ascent up the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar, and to the Greybeards. The Seven Thousand Steps were, at their heart, a pilgrimage for any who wished to find something; whether it be something about themselves or some sort of spiritual fulfillment. Along the climb there were small shrines, with etchings that told the tale of the Greybeards and how they were founded. He passed the first etching, stopping to read the first words of the pilgrimage.

Before the birth of man, the Dragons ruled all of Mundus

Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs

For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land

He meditated on the first words. He thought of a world where dragons ruled. He began to climb. The steps were worn with time and use. He kept a steady pace, controlling his breathing, for he knew the higher he climbed the harder it would be to climb. A half hour later he found himself at the second etching.

Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus

The Dragon's presided over the crawling masses

Men were weak then, and had no voice

Before the Dragonborn then, he thought as he read the last line. That was a time when the Nords had worshiped the dragons, thinking them gods. He stared up the path, closing his cloak tight around him. He followed a small group of mountain goats. Soon he passed the third etching, then the fourth, all telling the story on how the Nords rebelled against their dragon overlords with the help of the Dragonborn. The higher he climbed the thinner the air became, and he soon found himself breathing heavily and growing more tired. He knew he was almost there when he saw a very familiar statue that hadn't been there the last time he'd climbed the steps so very long ago.

Underneath the statue of Talos he read the etching:

For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name

Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar

They blessed and named him Dovahkiin

He smiled at his old name. He remembered his first trip up the mountain well, for it was almost his last. Partway up he'd been attacked by a frost troll. It had the element of surprise, and the help of a snowstorm. It wasn't that he couldn't easily defeat the troll, it was the fact that while fighting it, he almost stepped off the mountain because he was unable to see the ground below him.

He continued on until he could see the home of the Greybeards, High Hrothgar. It stood ancient and grim looking in the shadow of the mountain, which still loomed just above it. He walked the worn steps, the last of the journey. He reached for the great doors, finding them unlocked, and entered.


She swore that if she saw the Dragonborn again she'd be sure to have a few strong words with him. Instead she followed his lead and left Kynesgrove, heading North to Windhelm. She had a plan. She had set the seeds in Kynesgrove before she'd left. Sending couriers this way and that, trying to contact the right people. If anyone knew where Esbern was, it was the Thalmor. So it would be the Thalmor that would lead her straight to him.

Windhelm was a completely different city than Whiterun. It was the center of the Stormcloak rebellion, and the war had clearly taken the toll on the ancient city. It's stone alleys and streets were guarded by Stormcloak soldiers, and their numbers were in full force. The city was as cold as its stone, and it's people were colder still. Dark Elves were restricted to the city's Grey Quarter, and Argonians and Khajiit to the docks outside the city. It was the Nordic race that was prominent within the city.

Wrapping her cloak around her she entered the tavern, ignoring the bartender she went upstairs and found a table in the darkest corner of the room. She gazed at the table, and there, carved into the side was a symbol; a circle within a diamond. She sat there, waiting for the contact to show himself. She was nervous he wouldn't show when she heard a voice behind her, "Are you looking for a professional?"


The man sat down, he was dressed in black leather and hood, "Tell me what you need done, sweetheart, the Guild is at your service."
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Old 05-15-2012, 07:20 AM
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Default Re: TES V: Skyrim - Dovahkiin Reborn

A/N: More frequent updates, as promised.

Old Men on Mountains


"Your invitation?"

Cato smiled lightly as the Thalmor guard blocked his path, "Why, of course," he said politely as he handed the High Elf the invitation scroll. Cato knew that the invitation was a forgery, but he was confident in his associate's skills. He wouldn't have been here if he'd thought otherwise.

The Imperial watched calmly as the Thalmor guard read the scroll. The Altmer nodded, "Welcome to the Embassy, Thane. It is an honor to have you here." Cato smiled. He was indeed a Thane - that part was true, but he was positive that the Thane of Riften, a rebel city, wasn't on the guest list for this party. The guard stepped aside, and Cato nodded to him politely as he passed.

The party room was of a good size, but packed with dignitaries; rich merchants, Thanes, Jarls, and stewards all. Immediately, Cato counted the number of exits. He had entered the party easily enough, but he knew that it would be in escaping that the real challenge would begin. He had dressed to impress, dressed in a black doublet with red trim, and his short black hair was neatly combed. He scanned the crowd, looking for his 'partner in crime', a wood elf by the name of Malborn. He spotted him behind the bar, tending to thirsty patrons.

Cato began to walk to the bar when he was blocked by a well dressed High Elf woman. She smiled politely at him, and he returned the smile, "Welcome!" she said, a little too enthusiastically. Ambassador Elenwen, and she's suspicious, Cato realized.

"It is an honor to be here, my lady Ambassador!" he said taking a bow. I've got her now, she didn't expect me to recognize her.

"Thank you, forgive me, I seem to have forgotten your name," she said politely, with a hint of malice beneath.

Now for the hook, "Of course, my lady, I am, after all, new to the court. We met during the funeral in Solitude recently? You may not remember me, we spoke only briefly, and I never told you my name. And I'm sure the funeral of the Emperor's cousin took precedence over meeting a minor Thane." Now she either 'remembers' me or doesn't. It'd be rude to forget someone, after all.

"Ah, of course, forgive an old woman."

Cato smiled sweetly, "No forgiveness needed, Lady Ambassador. I am enjoying your party; it is quite the get together."

She nodded, "That it is," she paused as someone called her name; some lord Cato assumed. "Forgive me, but let us speak again later?"

Cato nodded, "Indeed, I think I shall converse with the other guests." He watched as she left to speak with a very grumpy looking Nord. That, he thought, was close.

He made his way to the bar. The Bosmer greeted him, "Good evening, my lord, would you like refreshment?"

Of course everything was scripted before the party. Smiling, Cato gave his next line, "Do you have any Colovian wines?" Now he knows I am me, and not an imposter. One of the drawbacks of the Guild, everyone wore hoods. Last time he and Malborn met he had been wearing his hood.

"Of course, my lord," Malborn said, reaching under the bar and pulling out a red wine, "Cyrodillic red, as sweet as summer wine." Everything's ready.

"A taste then, my friend," he watched as Malborn poured a small amount of the wine into a glass. Cato took the glass gently in his hands, swirling the wine, and tasted it. It was sweet, and free of a bitter aftertaste. He would have enjoyed the bottle, if it hadn't been for the circumstances. He finished the rest of the glass, "A fine wine, bar keep." The guards are watching us, I need a distraction.

Malborn nodded, "I have never tried it. It is much too sweet for my tastes, my lord." I don't know.

Damn it, Cato thought as he handed Malborn the empty wine glass. Just then he heard a shuffling out on the main floor, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. He turned and saw a very drunk Nord stumbling to the middle of the room. He had the attention of all the dignitaries, including the Thalmor guards. Raising his already empty bottle the Nord smiled, "Attention everyone!" he said, slurring each word, "Could I have your attention please! I propose a toast, to Elenwen!" He teetered forward dangerously before continuing, "Our Mistress! I speak figuratively of course. Nothing could be more unlikely than that someone would want her in their bed," he laughed a little too loudly. "Although... most of you are already in bed with her!"

At that point the guards swept in, grabbing the drunk by the arms. But the drunk paid no attention, and he continued his speech. Cato did not bother to listen to the rest, even as amusing as it was. He slipped into the shadows and behind the bar. Malborn joined him, shutting the door and whispering urgently, "What luck! That will keep the guards busy for a few minutes."

Cato nodded, "Where is the equipment I gave you?" he asked.

"In the back," the Bosmer whispered, "but we must keep quiet." Cato nodded again and followed as Malborn led him to a back room.

The kitchen was empty save for the Khajiit cook. She scowled when she saw Cato, "What is this Malborn?" she growled, "Guests ain't suppose to be in the kitchens. You'll get us all fired."

Malborn turned, "This guest is feeling ill. Probably because of your foul cooking."

She growled again, "He still ain't suppose to be here."

Cato smiled and stepped toward her, placing two Septims on the table with an audible clink, "I hope this helps for your trouble."

The greedy Khajiit took the coins, "I didn't see nothin'," she said, and continued her work.

Malborn hurried Cato into the next room and shut and locked the door, "You shouldn't have bothered," he said curtly, "she'll just spend it on skooma."

"If it buys her silence," Cato muttered, "my conscience is clear."

Malborn pointed to a chest in the corner, "Your things are there." Without hesitation Cato removed his gear from the chest. Quickly, he buckled his black sword to his belt, put on his black leather bracers, and strung his black bow and put it and the quiver on his back. Lastly, he donned his black Nightingale hood and mask, obscuring his identity in case he was found. He was a Nightingale of course; he would never work without it. "Good luck, Guild Master," Malborn said respectfully.

"I don't need luck," Cato laughed, his smirk hidden by his mask, "I have skill."


Revak held his breath as he entered the citadel that was High Hrothgar. The place was dark and lit only by a few dim candles. His eyes struggled to make sense of the shadows that crept around him and along the walls. Old ghosts, he thought. His footsteps echoed as the sound of his heavy footfalls bounced against the ancient stone walls. It was all familiar, yet still so strange. He found himself stopping in the center of the room, feeling unseen eyes gazing upon him.

"We feared you would not come," said a calm voice in front of him, so close that Revak started at the sound of it. A figure stepped forward, and an old man dressed in grey robes appeared, then another, and another, and soon Revak found himself by a circle of Greybeards.

Revak dipped his head, "My name is Revakkaal. I have come to answer your summons, and to speak with you," he said respectfully.

"And speak we shall we have much to discuss," said the first Greybeard. "I am Master Arngeir, and I speak for the Greybeards. You have an interesting name, Revakkaal. "

"It is an honor to speak with you then, Master. And thank you."

Arngeir smiled, "We summoned you because we heard your Voice. We have not heard a new Voice in so long, not since Tiber Septim himself! It is true then, that you possess the gift?"

"Yes, Master, I am Dragonborn," Revak said, standing tall.

"We shall see. If you can survive against the Unbridled Voice of the Greybeards, you shall be named Dovahkiin."

"Dovahkiin!" the other Greybeards whispered, causing the floor to shake slightly, and, somewhere high above them, a bell rang out once.

"I am ready."

Arngeir nodded, "Then let us begin my Brothers!" he said to the other four monks. They closed around Revak.

It began as a whisper, but slowly the chant became louder and louder. The world shook around Revak, but he stood tall, resisting the urge to cover his hears. They were so loud that he couldn't understand the words they were saying. The Greybeards spoke faster and the noise became louder. Revak stumbled, fearing his head would explode from the pain and sheer volume of the chant that surrounded him like an unrelenting force. He fell to one knee, panting.

The chant continued to rise in volume, and by this point his whole body was shaking. But then, it was silence. Revak stood slowly, expecting the Greybeards were done with their chant, but when he looked at the monks they were still speaking. Their eyes grew wide when he saw he was no longer affected.

This hadn't happened before. Last time he had visited he'd been forced to hear the entire chant. As Tiber Septim he'd survived, but only barely. He didn't feel weakened now, though. In fact he felt a familiar power. He gazed at his hands and found familiar warmth; a golden light surrounded him, blocking the combined Voice of the Greybeards. He knew it well, for it was his Divine Aura, the same he had as he walked Sovngarde as one of the Nine. The very same that had shown itself in his fight against Sahloknir. His skin felt feverish and hot with power. Sparks of electricity cracked as his strength rose.

The Greybeards finished their chant, their eyes flickering nervously toward Arngeir, who only stared in awe. Revak could swear that tears forming in his eyes. Their faces were lit from his golden glow, four of the monks knelt before him, murmuring "Dovahkiin". Arngeir remained standing, "What is your name, Dragonborn?"

Revak was silent for a moment. He felt the sheer power within him; the power of a god made flesh, "Revakkaal," he said, surprised to find that his voice was much lower, but different, as if he were not one person, but two.

Arngeir was shaking where he stood, "Your true name, Dragonborn."

Revak smiled, "Talos Stormcrown."

Immediately, Arngeir fell to his knees, tears flowing down his face freely, "Hail Tiber Septim!" he said, taking in the sight of the god of men, "Hail Talos!" he cried. The others joined him, the world shaking as they spoke.

"Werid kos Talos revak kendov, drog se jul!"


Lydia sighed as she stared at the flames of the hearth. How in Oblivion had she landed herself here? she wondered. Here she was, guarding an empty house for a mad Thane who was off chasing dragons and rumors of dragons. Does he really think himself sent by the gods? Or is it just the size of his ego?

Then again, she'd seen him fight that dragon at the Western Watchtower. She'd watched as he killed the dragon, and Shouted in victory. After that everyone claimed that he was Dragonborn. It seemed to be the only word on people's lips nowadays. Dragonborn this, Dragonborn that. The man had been gone for over a month and a half, and so far they had heard no more news of their precious 'Dragonborn'.

It was once thing to call the man Dragonborn, but it was something else when he claimed he was sent by the gods. She had a hard time swallowing that. Dragons were beasts to be slain, she didn't believe any of this nonsense about some evil dragon lord returning to rule the world, and that Revak was the solution and their only savior.

She was adding another log to the fire when she thought she heard a noise. She turned to the front door, and found a tall man in black and gold robes standing behind her. She drew her sword, cursing herself for not wearing her armor, "This home belongs to the Thane of Whiterun," she said strongly, "what business do you have here?"

The man lowered his hood, his appearance was Altmer, "In the name of the Dominion, in accordance with White Gold Concordat, you, Lydia of Whiterun, and Housecarl to the Thane of Whiterun, also known as 'Dragonborn', are hereby under arrest until further notice or until your hearing is concluded." The Elf stepped aside as two more appeared, these in golden heavy armor, and blades drawn.

Lydia scowled, "What is the meaning of this, Thalmor?"

The Altmer warriors stepped forward, "Will you come quietly?" one said beneath his helm.

"Never!" Lydia cried as she charged him. He blocked her attack easily with his sword. Lydia spun striking him in the leg and knocking him off balance just long enough so that she could bury her sword in his neck. He fell to the ground, gurgling on the floor as he choked on his own blood.

Blood streaming down her blade she attacked the second, but was frozen. She couldn't move. The first Thalmor stepped in front of her, blue magic gathered in his hands, a hold spell, she realized. The other Thalmor warrior struck her with his shield. She felt blood creeping down her face as the world became black.

Attn: So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please be sure to review and tell me what you think about the new perspectives, and what you think of the new original character, Cato! On to chapter fifteen, "A Blade in the Dark"!
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