The Equine Scrolls: SkyFiM

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 5: Legends Arise

Chapter V: Legends Arise
“By the Equines, I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!”

I rubbed my eyes as the ethereal lettering faded away. What had just happened, I had no clue, but the afterthoughts of every meaning of FUS hovered in my mind. Like reading a spell tome, I had just learned something without having to do anything at all. Only, this time I had no idea what I had learned.

I didn’t feel any different, but even so, the knowledge of FUS was burned into my brain. Bits and pieces of the thoughts and sensations I had experienced flitted to the surface of my mind every so often, but became less frequent and began to dull as time went on. Still, I was acutely aware the thoughts were still there, buried somewhere my waking thoughts couldn’t reach.

As FUS hid itself in my mind, I took another look around Calcion’s final resting place. My search was fruitful, as I found a secret tunnel behind one of the waterfalls. Following it, I emerged on the north face of the mountains. I could see Whitetrot off in the distance, sticking out of the flatlands. The dragonstone weighed me down, but I had somewhere else to go before I brought Faniar his ancient rock. I turned east, toward Riverwood.

I was so glad I didn’t have to trek back through Blank Flanks Barrow, I was taken unaware by a pack of wolves.

My war axe sank into the first one’s head as it jumped at me. Throwing it off, I spun around at the next one, my axe chopping through its throat. The next two I torched with my fire spell, and finished off the last one with a strike to the back, crippling it. Cleaning my weapons, I continued on to Riverwood.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

“Wherever did you find it?” Calciar exclaimed as I presented him with his golden claw.

After the wolf attack, the journey to Riverwood had been thankfully uneventful. All I had were the “crazy-thoughts-that-were-not-my-own-concerning-FUS” to keep me company. They were getting less potent, but still my mind seemed unwillingly drawn back to them.

“Blank Flanks Barrow,” I told him as he stroked the claw, “A thief hired by the Blackwings took it there.”

“The Blackwings?” he asked, looking unnerved.

“Yeah,” I said, “So maybe you should keep it extra safe.”

“Against the Blackwings? I doubt anything’s safe from them. But thanks anyway. Here’s 50 gold for your efforts,” he said, throwing the small bag of coins across the table.

“50 gold?” I asked, levitating the money.

“Yes,” he said, putting away the claw.

“Only 50?”

“Why, what were you expecting?”

“Something a little closer to the claw’s value.”

“Well, I gave you 50-”

“It’s worth at least ten times that!”

“Look, what if I throw in a set of armor too, yours is looking a little worse for wear.”

“I guess,” I said, settling for his deal.

I was still getting robbed, but I didn’t want to hurt my friendship with Calciar any more than I already had with my outburst. Besides, I would be selling the various items I’d picked up in Blank Flanks Barrow in Whitetrot.

With my new iron armor on, I headed out into Riverwood. The tiny town was quiet. The ponies here were able to live their lives like they always had, without fear. Even with the guards patrolling the town, nothing seemed to have changed.

“Dragon!” I heard the elderly pony near the edge of town yell.

It was the same pony who had called out the same thing the day I had first arrived in Riverwood.

“Mother, get back inside,” her son said again, “There’s no dragon.”

He was so very wrong.

A roar shook the trees around the town, and the ringing of metal on metal ended as the blacksmith stopped his work. With the thunderous flap of wings, a dragon swooped over the town. But it paid Riverwood no mind and continued on north, toward Whitetrot.

I had the get the dragonstone to Whitetrot now. While it still existed.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

When I made it to Whitetrot everypony was surprisingly calm. Apparently the dragon hadn’t come here after all. Not wanting to cause a panic, I kept the news of the dragon to myself.

I rushed to Dragonsreach as fast as I could. I vaguely noticed the blacksmith waving to me as I passed her by. A Priest of Talhooves had arrived in the city while I was gone and had set up a shrine in front of the statue of his favored deity. I paid no mind to his preaching as I climbed the steps beside him.

The guards gave me strange looks as I rushed into the keep, but let me pass. I finally made it to Faniar’s study, out of breath (Why was Dragonsreach so high?) He was rearranging the papers covered in runes (which I now saw where the same ones in the Barrow) when I trotted in.

“Back so soon?” he asked as I caught my breath.

“Yes,” I nodded, “I got you your dragonstone.”

“Excellent,” he said as I floated it out, “It wasn’t too much trouble, was it?”

“Actually, yes,” I admitted, “First off, bandits live in the Barrow, and secondly, the dead didn’t seem to want to stay dead.”

“Wait,” he said, placing the dragonstone on his table, “Are you saying the ancient dead of Horizon are alive again?”

“I guess,” I said, wondering at the significance.

“Those that served the dragons were cursed to never rest,” he said, his hoof to his muzzle, “Draugr, we call them. It means ‘Restless Ones’ in ancient earth pony. They used to roam the catacombs of Horizon, but since the disappearance of the dragons they’ve been still. If the Draugr live again, then the dragons must truly be returning.”

“What are you going to do with the dragonstone?” I asked.

“Translate it from draconic to the common speech. Then we’ll see what secrets the dragons held, and how we can use it against them.”

“Sounds great,” I said, heading toward the door, “If you don’t need my help anymore, I’ll be taking off.”

“Before you go,” he said, floating a book over, “Take this, and speak to the Jarl about any other rewards he may have for you.”

I took a look at the tome Faniar had given me. Upon the front was a soaring eagle with the title shimmering below it: Healing Hooves. I tucked it in my saddlebags to read later.

“Hold on,” Faniar said, as I turned to leave the room, “Where’d you get that?”

He was pointing at the sword at my side, the one I had picked up after the fight with Calcion.

“The Barrow,” I said, pulling it out of its sheath, “I took it from Calcion after I killed him.”

“Calcion the Vengeful?!” he asked incredulously, taking the sword to admire.

“Yeah,” I said, “He had the dragonstone.”

“Calcion’s Cleaver,” he said reverently, “Forged by the great steel-smiths in the Skyforge here in Whitetrot when the Skyforge was the only thing on this hill. Enchanted with great power for his war on his home, and augmented with dragon magic. This is a magnificent sword you carry.”

“Would you consider parting with it?” he asked when he finished ogling the blade.

“I don’t think so,” I said, taking the sword back and sheathing it.

“Of course,” he said sadly, “It would be extremely difficult to put an appropriate price on such a unique blade anyway.”

Looking longingly at the sword one last time, Faniar returned to translating the dragonstone. I left his study and trotted back into the main hall, approaching the throne of Jarl Valor’s Blade.

“What is it I can help you with?” the Jarl asked as I neared him.

“I’ve finished my business with Faniar,” I stated, “He said that you would have payment for my services.”

“Of course,” the Jarl said, turning to Protocus, “Steward, give this mare 100 gold and the Boots of Inexhaustibility from my armory.”

“Right away my Jarl,” he said, calling up another pony and sending her off to fetch my reward.

While I waited, I heard the sound of the great hall’s doors opening, followed by hoofsteps of great haste. A dull green earth pony wearing the lightest of armors decorated with Whitetrot’s crest (a pony head) galloped up the steps to the Jarl, sweat glistening in her coat.

“I bring a message from the Western Watchtower,” she forced out as she tried to steady her breathing.

“Calm down courier,” Darkfeather demanded, “You look as if you’ve just seen a dragon.”

“I have,” the courier said quickly.

“I believe the time for that expression has passed,” the Jarl said to Darkfeather.

“A dragon has been sighted flying in the western end of the hold,” the courier said, her breathing returning to normal, “Captain Burns requests assistance.”

“And we will send it,” the Jarl said, “Darkfeather, round up a platoon of soldiers and head out to the watchtower. Be ready for a dragon attack, but don’t provoke it. Sapphire, I would appreciate it if you would accompany them. You know more about dragon attacks than anypony else here, maybe even Faniar.”

I didn’t reply at once, but I took the gold and boots provided by the Jarl. I didn’t know how much help I would be. Let’s be honest, I really didn’t know much more about dragon attacks than the average pony. My advice would be to avoid them, but if Valor’s Blade thought I could be of at least some help, I would go along and try.

“Ready?” I asked Darkfeather as I pulled my helmet on.

She gave a grin and gallop-hopped out of Dragonsreach to round up the troops.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

Was it odd for a pony to wear boots? Apparently not in Horizon. I had thought they’d be uncomfortable things, but I actually quite enjoyed wearing them. In fact, they seemed to make my step lighter and I didn’t tire of walking all the way to the Western Watchtower. Boots of Inexhaustibility indeed. They were aptly named.

“How did a dappled pegasus end up working for a Horizon Jarl?” I asked Darkfeather as we trekked across the hold.

“When the Red Mountain of Morrowhinny exploded, displacing my kindred, the Jarl led a rescue mission to help get us dappled pegasi out. Of course, that was many years ago when he was Captain, not yet a Jarl.”

“But, there were many who did not wish us to be saved. A fight broke out between those that wanted to eliminate the burden we presented, and those that truly cared for our lives. Valor’s Blade saved me from being killed. And I’ve been by his side, serving him ever since.”

“Why don’t you fly?” I asked as the watchtower came in sight.

“You don’t know much about dappled pegasi, do you?” she said.

I shook my head.

“Not surprising, it’s not a subject most ponies are comfortable discussing. Especially the ‘pure pegasi’ of the Dominion that we once called kin.”

“Thousands of years ago, our ancestors were dissatisfied with the Featherrest Isles. They sought after a different kind of land, a land they found in Morrowhinny. But, over time, the land changed us. The odd magic of the realm dappled out coats. Seldom did we fly in Morrowhinny, and our wings shrank. Now the most flying we can do is short assisted hops.”

I nodded to show I understood.

“Of course, even if I could fly, I would need to stay down here to keep all these earth ponies out of trouble,” she said, gesturing to the Whitetrot soldiers with us.

When we reached the watchtower there was still no sign of the dragon. But I was sure it was around somewhere. I was also fairly certain it was the same dragon I had seen fly over Riverwood. But not the same one from Hoofgen. Now that I thought about it, the two dragons were different. But, there were still at least two dragons out there, if not more. I tried not to think about how many more.

“Thanks for the assistance,” a rust-red pony with a caramel mane in Whitetrot officer’s armor (Captain Burns, probably) said, “That dragon’s hiding now, but he’ll be back.”

I sure hoped so. Otherwise I would’ve come out here for nothing. What was I thinking? Why would I want a dragon to attack? I had no idea how to fight it.

Unfortunately, my wish came true. A roar sounded across the plains. Light glinted off the dragon’s scales as it glided toward the watchtower. Archers atop the tower began to fire as it came in range. Most of their arrows bounced off the dragon’s thick hide, but some found their way through cracks in its scales and stuck.

It launched a fireball at the tower before swooping away. I was blown off my hooves as the ball of flame impacted with the tower. The top swayed precariously as the middle of the tower was blown out. With the sound of crashing stone, the tower collapsed.

I crawled away from the rubble raining down. The screams of soldiers caught beneath the remains of the tower drifted out through the pile of stone. The flames burning on the ground flickered as the dragon swooped overhead, sending wind blowing across the wreckage.

Pushing myself to my hooves, I pulled out Calcion’s Cleaver. If that dragon got too close, I wanted to be able to hit it with the only weapon I thought would be able to hurt it. As it swooped back around the smoking remains of the tower, I hid myself behind a block of stone. Giving a fearsome roar, the dragon belched flame across the ground, charring the stone I was behind, but thankfully leaving me unscathed.

I inched my way around to the other side as the dragon passed over me. From my new vantage point, I caught sight of Darkfeather, her wing pinned beneath a fallen stone. I galloped up to her before the dragon could turn back around.

“Leave me!” she ordered, straining to pull her wing out as the dragon came around and caught sight of her.

Grabbing her around her neck, I pulled with all my strength. Finally, with our might combined, she was freed. The feathers at the end of her wing popped out and her wing began bleeding, but she was free from the rock. We rolled out of the way as the dragon roasted the spot we had just been in.

We took shelter behind a pile of rocks, out of the dragon’s sight.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Darkfeather said, smoothing out her remaining feathers.

“I know,” I stated, pulling out the spell tome Faniar had given me.

Popping it open, I let the pages fly past faster than my eyes could follow until the book was consumed in magical energy. I focused my new spell on Darkfeather’s wing, pouring magic into closing up the wound and sprouting new feathers.

“And you really didn’t have to do that,” she said, giving me a stern look, “But I’m glad you did.”

I shrugged and searched for the dragon. It was flying over a group of Whitetrot soldiers on the other side of the tower’s remains. They were quickly fried into ash as the dragon blasted them with fire. I pulled out a potion of fire resistance I had picked up in Blank Flanks Barrow and drank it down.

A slight shimmer covered my body as I strode out into the open. I fired a blast of lightning at the dragon, striking it in the head. Shaking sparks out of its eyes, the dragon swooped in for a landing. Dust billowed into the air as it landed heavily on the ground in front of me. I shot another blast of lightning at it before rolling out of the way of its fire breath.

I ducked behind a rock and hid from the beast. I was knocked to the ground as the rock flipped over my head, pushed by the dragon’s wing. The flames licked at me as I ran, but I was encased in a cloak of inflammability.

The dragon turned away from me, roaring in anger, as one of Darkfeather’s blades hit next to its eye. Giving a jump assisted by her wings, she escaped the dragon’s flames. The dragon took a step toward where she had run, spreading its wings. I thrust my Cleaver in the air as one of them passed over me.

A gash was torn in the membrane of its wing as my sword sliced through it. Hot blood reeking of sulfur rained down around me. The dragon jerked its wing away with a roar of pain. Lightning lanced through the wing as the sword pulled out, sending it twitching uncontrollably and throwing the dragon off its balance as it turned at me.

I ran, ducking behind a rock, as the dragon blew flame at me. It flicked the rock away with its wing, sending it roaring in agony again. More fire erupted from the dragon’s maw, engulfing me. Thankfully, my potion hadn’t run out, but my magical cloak was beginning to flicker. It died the same time the dragon’s flames did.

I jumped back out of range as it snapped at me. The sharp, wickedly curved teeth closed dangerously close to me face. Turning tail, I ran, looking back only to see the dragon had a new target. Captain Burns had grabbed onto the creature’s tail and was slashing furiously at it. It couldn’t quite twist its head around all the way and took to thrashing its tail around to throw her off.

Finally Burns was forced to let go, and went flying though the air before rolling across the ground. As she moved to pick up her sword, the dragon stomped on it. As she tried desperately to back up, the dragon, snapped her up in its jaws. Giving a few chomps to crack her armor, it threw her in the air and swallowed her. Pony blood dripped from its jaws as it turned toward me.

It turned away as Darkfeather slid under it, aiming a slash at its underbelly. Her sword hardly pierced its scales, but it infuriated it to no end. As it shot fire in her direction, I galloped toward the dragon.

“How crazy is this?” my mind asked as I neared the beast and time seemed to slow, “Galloping toward certain death. Dragons are meant to be avoided, not assaulted. You’re going to end up like Captain Burns!”

It was crazy, but I was the only one left who could attack at the moment. Other than me and Darkfeather, the field seemed to be empty of living ponies, and she was running for her life. Even if I could only distract the beast long enough for her to kill it, it would be worth it.

“You came to Horizon to hide,” my mind reminded me, “If you’re going to throw your life away carelessly, why did you come here in the first place? You could have better stayed behind in Unicornica and eked out a life as a beggar.”

I silenced the little pony in my head and jumped at the dragon, landing on its neck, just behind the head. It appeared to notice something was wrong, as it turned away from pursuing Darkfeather and tried to throw me off. I clung to a spike with all my strength as I was tossed and turned. Finally the dragon gave up on bucking me off and tried to swipe at me with its tail.

I dodged the tail best I could as it swung over my head. At least the dragon was being somewhat still now. Swinging Calcion’s Cleaver around, I swung at the top of the dragon’s head. Scales flew off as I slashed at the dragon with a dragon sword. I found it to be a bit ironic that it was being damaged by a weapon made by its own kind.

It continued to try to throw me off to no avail. Eventually my sword cut through to flesh. Bringing it up, I stabbed through into the dragon’s brain. Sparks danced over its head as lightning passed from the tip through the dragon’s skull. Giving a shudder, it fell down and died.

Still atop its head, I pulled the sword out. It was stained with hot, sticky dragon blood. Jumping off the dead dragon’s head, I wiped the blade off in the grass, causing it to wilt. Once I was satisfied it was clean enough, I put it back in its scabbard.

A crackling came from behind me. Turning, I saw the dragon’s carcass had caught fire. Flames of every color in the rainbow danced across its flesh. I backed up to avoid the blaze, though I felt no heat coming from it.

As its flesh was consumed, leaving only bones, streams of light began to flow off its body. I backed up quicker now as the lights began to head toward me. The streams of light began to flow around my body in elegant patterns. I was too dumbfounded to be too afraid. I just hoped this last spiteful act from the dragon would be painless.

Suddenly, thoughts flew through my mind. Memories, pictures, and sounds that were not my own. In seconds, I relieved the extremely long life of the dragon I had just killed. I couldn’t catch much, but I felt them flowing into my memories, melding with them, much like FUS had done.

Speaking of FUS, the thoughts were back, much stronger now. Everything I had learned about FUS and everything this dragon had learned about it were combined, strengthening my knowledge. I felt like I would explode with my awareness of FUS if I didn’t do something about it.

“What was that?” Darkfeather asked, trotting up to me.

“I don’t know,” I said, though my thoughts were still turned to FUS, “I think I just experienced that dragon’s memories.”

“Well,” Darkfeather said, “It’s dead at least. Looks like you were right.”

I barely heard her. The thoughts on FUS were still swirling through my mind. My head seemed filled with them. They threatened to destroy me if I didn’t let them out.

<FUS!> I yelled involuntarily.

The voice of my shout was so great, I could see it as it passed by Darkfeather, startling her. It continued on until it hit the skeleton of the dragon, sending its head flipping up in the air before slamming back down.

“Whoa,” Darkfeather said, “Watch it! I didn’t know you had the Voice.”

“The what now?” I said, my head finally clear of the FUS-thoughts.

“The Voice,” she said, “Gifted earth ponies of legend could do Shouts, like what you just did. I didn’t know unicorns could have the Voice.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, rubbing my head, the Shout had just happened.

“You should speak to the Greymanes about it, they’ll know more.”

<FUS!> I said again.

“Maybe until then you should avoid Shouting,” Darkfeather said as she staggered when my Shout passed her.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

I held off on the Shouting on the way back to Whitetrot. It wasn’t too hard. The urges to ponder FUS had faded away completely. Apparently my mind had decided I now fully understood it if I was able to project force with only my voice.

The sun had sunk behind the mountains by the time we reached Whitetrot. The stars glimmered in the crystal clear sky over Horizon. The town was silent but for a few barking dogs as we made our way past the burning braziers and up the stairs to Dragonsreach.

“What news from the Western Watch?” the Jarl asked as we approached his throne.

“The dragon lies dead,” Darkfeather announced, “Amid the ruins of the watchtower and the bodies of everypony there but us two.”

“How many ponies did we lose?” the Jarl asked.

“Nearly twenty.”

“The time for mourning will come later. Now we must be glad. A dragon has been stopped within our lands. We have shown the dragons that ponies are not as weak as they may think.”

“Most of the credit belongs to this pony here,” Darkfeather said, pushing me forward, “She was the one who killed the beast.”

Uncomfortably, I stood before the Jarl. I didn’t want this attention, and I hadn’t done that much.

“It appears, Sapphire, that you have become invaluable to our hold,” Jarl Valor’s Blade said, dismounting his throne, “And for that, I name you Champion of Whitetrot, and Thane of this great city.”

“Thane?” I asked, unfamiliar with the word.

“It is the highest title I can bestow upon anypony within my hold. As Thane, you will be highly respected wherever you may go. And everypony will recognize you as a representative of Whitetrot, and by extension, me. In addition, I present you with the residence of Breezehome within the city and the Axe of Whitetrot, weapon of my realm.”

As he finished his explanation, Protocus stepped forward and presented me with my new war axe and the key to my new house. I took them reverently, still feeling like I didn’t deserve any of it.

“I don’t know what to say,” I said to the Jarl, “Thank you.”

“You’ve earned it,” he said, putting his hoof on my shoulder.

Thane of Whitetrot. It did have a nice ring to it. And Whitetrot was one of the nicer places I had been to. I could certainly get used to living here.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

After a feast thrown by Jarl Valor’s Blade, I made my way down to my new house. Breezehome was built in the market district next to Warmare’s. It was just a short trot from my front door to any of the shops in Whitetrot.

Turns out, Breezehome had been the house of Captain Burns before me. I felt strange, moving into the house of a pony on the day she had died, but I needed a place to sleep for the night. She had a few things sitting out in the house, but it seemed mostly unlived in. Apparently she had preferred living on watch over staying in an actual house.

Protocus informed me that all her possessions would be removed in the morning. Only the furniture would be left. Thankfully, that included the bed I snuggled into. As I lay down to sleep, I thought about the strange turn of events that had befallen me.

I had been in Horizon three days now, and I had a home, several friends, and I was a Thane. Also, I apparently had “The Voice.” I would have to find where the Greymanes lived sometime and visit them. And, I had also killed a dragon.

Pretty good for a worthless blank flank. Almost too good. I checked my flanks before I went down to sleep but they were still blank. No cutie-mark for me. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I was awakened in the morning by the sound of the blacksmith hard at work next door. Rising, I strapped on my armor (but not the helmet,) Calcion’s Cleaver, and the Axe of Whitetrot. Strapping my saddlebags to my sides, I went shopping.

And by shopping, I meant selling some of the things I had picked up. My gems were sold, as was my old leather armor. I also sold the Draugr sword I had picked up in Blank Flanks Barrow for a good amount of gold (though I feared it wasn’t even close to the actual value.) I then used the gold I’d gained to buy a steel sword and mace at Warmare’s.

As I left the blacksmith shop with my increased arsenal, I saw the guards at the gate were blocking the path of a pony with a coat so brown it was nearly black. He pushed past them and galloped up into the city, heading straight for Dragonsreach. As Thane, I figured it was my duty to help the city guards and followed him.

The only armor he wore was light, deep blue, and marked with a symbol I hadn’t seen before. A shield with two curled ram’s horns. He got farther away as we entered the city center and he shot past the dead tree. He was a fast pony, made for running.

Pushing the Priest of Talhooves out of the way, he ascended the stairs to Dragonsreach. The guards called for him to stop, but he continued to run. Jumping the last two guards, he slammed into the great halls doors, pushing them wide open.

He reached the throne of Jarl Valor’s Blade as I made it to the fire. Or, he would have reached the Jarl’s throne if Darkfeather hadn’t tackled him.

“Darkfeather, get off of him,” the Jarl demanded.

“He is from Marekarth,” she said, though she obeyed, “No doubt Jarl Glamus is declaring war for the fortification of Rearikstead.”

“No,” the courier said, rising to his hooves, “Jarl Glamus requests aid.”

“Aid?” Protocus asked incredulously, looking up from his scrolls.

“Yes,” the courier replied, “A dragon has attacked Marekarth and we have need of your soldiers. Jarl Glamus needs your help.”

Jarl Valor’s Blade looked thoughtful for a moment before replying.

“And Whitetrot will send it,” he announced, “Who better to send then the Champion of Whitetrot?”

Of course he meant me. Looked like I would be off again. Marekarth awaited.

Level Up
Health: 130 Stamina: 110 Magicka: 110
New Perk: Good Ol’ Fashioned Shteel [Smithing] -- You can now smith steel weapons and armor at forges.
Appointed as Thane: Whitetrot Hold
Unique Item added: Boots of Inexhaustibility -- Enchanted to reduce stamina drain, these boots will allow you to run for hours without tiring.
Unique Item added: Axe of Whitetrot – The Axe of Whitetrot is a priceless weapon forged by the city’s smiths. In addition to being enchanted with fire damage, it shows off your status as Thane.
Residence acquired: Breezehome -- Although it is a small home, it is situated in an ideal place in Whitetrot and provides a place to sleep and store your belongings.
New Spell learned: Healing Hooves -- This spell allows you to heal the wounds of any other pony so long as you are near them.
Friendship gained: Faniar Fire-stone -- The court wizard of Whitetrot, Faniar can teach you a variety of spells as well as how to be a competent enchanter.
Friendship gained: Darkfeather -- This dappled pegasus is sworn to protect Jarl Valor’s Blade’s life, but will be willing to help you so long as it doesn’t interfere with her duties.
Dragon Soul collected
New Quest: Trouble in the West -- Travel to Marekarth and save it from a dragon attack.

Comments

[Phazon_Corrupted_Unicorn]

Another amazing fight, this time against a dragon! Maybe I should have you write all my fights in my stories! Why aren't the fights in Skyrim like that!?

[Kingmoonwar19]

For the longest time in skyrim I did know how to learn the shouts until I was lv35 or 36 and I descoverd how to by accident