18+ Conquer with Fire

"'Well there was' indeed. I'm going farther up, myself. Anyone care to join me?" Mance asked the group. Indari looked at the others and hesitated. She wanted to be on her way herself and didn't see any reason to sit around the makeshift camp any longer.

"Anyone coming? I promise I won't stab you in the back." Indari chuckled to herself. You could try. Still, she liked Mance and found his openness refreshing. She hoped to get to know him a lot better.

"Alright Mance, I'll join you. Bjulf, my names Bjulf." The large Nord said, sheathing his spear with a slightly pained expression on his face. Indari was beginning to think that Bjulf was not exactly the social type. She made a mental note not to get on his bad side. She bent down and picked up her travelers cloak, fastening it around herself.

I"ll join you as well" she said to Mance. "I'm sure we can make light work of whatever lays before us" She glanced at Marek, wondering if he was going to join them as well. He seemed to be mulling it over. Indari half expected him to be gone when she woke in the morning, but, he was still there, standing silently, contemplating. She secured her hair back with a piece of leather cord as her deep blue eyes peered up the mountain path, before settling back onto Mance.

"Well, I'm ready to go" She announced to no-one in particular.

Farlyyn hesitated a little before grabbing the bowl of soup the man had given him. He had once heard some travelers walking in the woods say that you shouldn't trust stragers handing you food or water. The elf leaned slightly over the steam from the soup and sniffed it. There was no poison that he could smell, so he started to eat, letting the fluid stay in the mouth a few seconds before he swallowed.

The man that had given him the soup had already finished, and he looked straight at Farlyyn with a gentle face. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Mikom, Mikom Light-Foot. They call me that because I’m light on my feet.” Silence lingered between the two awkwardly for a moment, and then Mikom chuckled. “I’m sorry. Stupid me, why else would they call me that? Anyway, what’s your name?” Farlyyn looked up from he bowl and smiled scepticly. "I'm Farlyyn Silverblood. Of the Silverblood clan..." He stopped and looked out into the air. The memories of his tribe came back to him.


After a few seconds of silence Farlyyn turned back to Mikom. "Listen, Light-foot. Are you here for the same reason as I am? Joining the great protectors of Skyrim?" He laughed deeply before adding. "Well, I'm actually here only to protect the forest. Damn dragons are burning it down.."



(OOC: Imagine Farlyyn having a russian accent!)

Roadside ruins, a small chunk of the forsworn army gathered there. Over one hundred forsworn, all led by Bargulg, an orcish warchief. After the orcish strongholds fell, the dragons viewed the orismer as an asset. Their brute force, coupled with their smithing skill, made them an important piece in the horde.

All the orismer chiefs now left their stronghold to become warchiefs, commanders in the horde. Bargulg hails from one of the orcish strongholds in High Rock, an he has been assigned to lead the forsworn horde on the battle of Falkreath. His men aren't weak, yet they stand unorganized. Bargulg will have a lot of work to do, if he wants to conquer Falkreath with minimum loss.

There are a few orcs in the camp, other then Bargulg. They smith the finest orcish armor for the high ranked forsworn, while training them on how to use it. As Bargulg inspects his army, his eyes come upon an unusual sight. A nord, in the forsworn horde. Bargulg chuckled to himself upon eyeing him.

"You there!" he shouted, and the nord slowly turned to him, trembling like a leaf in the morning. "Come here, we need to talk!" the nord proceeded walking towards Bargulg, but he didn't know what to expect. His forsworn brethren whispered behind his back, trying to find the reason of his summoning.

"You called for me, warchief" the nord swallowed dryly. "Yes.. I have. What is your name, solider?" said Bargulg upon inviting him in the tent. "Rorildir, Rorildir the Quiet" Barglug nodded in agreement "What's your story?" Rorildir frowned, as he didn't knew Barglug's reasons.

"Well, I was born in Solitude, my Father was an imperial sailor. I was raised in Solitude, my Father died shortly after my birth, so I was trained to become a solider. However I didn't become a solider, but a spy. I was once tasked to investigate the forsworn uprising in The Reach, but I ended up joining them. That's my story, warchief"

Barglug nodded. "It seems I'l put your skills to use once more, Rorildir. I want you to grab the outfit of a traveler, and go to Falkreath. Find out what you can about the number of guards there, their weapons, everything you can. Go now, make us proud!" Said Bargulg upon shaking Rorildir's shoulders

The Throat of the world is now heavier, as Paarthurnax rests his wings and places himself upon it's peak. He sat there, trying to enjoy the morning's air. As he meditated, a word of power reached his old ear
"FUS!"
It was Jason's voice. His shout could signal a lot of things, but Paarthurnax didn't overthink it's meaning. Slowly and with a warm voice, Paarthurnax whispered his words, so that only Jason might hear them
"Kendov Jason, Drun Faal Kul Do Zahkrii Wah Zu"
And after he whispered, he closed his tired eyes, and begun meditating, trying to remember the mortal language, which he will now have to speak.

"Kendov Jason, Drun Faal Kul Do Zahkrii Wah Zu"

The whispers filled his mind, drowning the raging winds surrounding him, the voice of a Dovah, it should fill him with fear, but he felt naught to fear from this one Dovah.

Jason smiled and raised himself, facing the summit of the greatest mountain of Tamriel, and he bowed graciously, as the screaming wins onc again overtook his sense of hearing.

"It shall be done, Master."

"I'm Farlyyn Silverblood. Of the Silverblood clan..." Silence sat between the two for a moment before he continued. "Listen, Light-foot. Are you here for the same reason as I am? Joining the great protectors of Skyrim? Well, I'm actually here only to protect the forest. Damn dragons are burning it down.."

"The forest? I guess you could say that is why I'm here..." He paused, thinking for a moment about what his true motives were. Then it donned on him that he had no real reason he was doing this. "I'm here simply because I feel it is my duty to help the Dragonborn continue on with what he could not. This world is all of ours, and why should we not all take arms against the dragons?" He looked at his empty bowl and spun it slightly to get all of the excess soup into one corner, then drank the little that was left. He chuckled, realizing he had done exactly what everyone else had done. "So that's why I'm here. It is my duty to help protect this world." Mikom looked around the room noticing that most people had gone to sleep already. "Well, I'm off to bed. I'll see you in the morning Farlyyn."

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. The room was almost silent. The soft crackling of the fire put him to bed quickly. Then is when he got the last good sleep that he would probably get for a very long time.

==================================

Mikom rose early that morning. Most were still asleep and the few that were up stared blankly at the ground. He looked over to his new friend and saw him sleeping peacefully. Enjoy your rest friend. You'll need it. He stood and headed for the back courtyard.

"FUS!" Mikom watched in awe as a Nord shouted to the sky. Man, what I'd give to be able to speak with the tongue of the dragon.He turned back, deciding not to interfere. "What are you doing out here? This area is off limits." A blade stood and gave Mikom a stern look. "Sorry, I was just leaving." He turned quickly and took his seat next to Farlyyn once again. He sighed, longing to go and look around, but kept himself seated by the fire.Why can't we just go already?...

The cold walls of the small crevasse, and the radiant heat from the fire reluctantly coaxed me to sleep. My eyes fell ever slowly, until they were completely shut, and the sounds of the impending blizzard were my lullaby. I had never been one to drift off, but my body wasn’t letting me escape the hold it had on me for rest. So I slowly gave in, and before long. I was gone.

“Where am I?” I called into the endless abyss of my dreamless, and empty conscious. White and soundless, the abyss continued forever, in every direction. Though the area I stood was as baron and empty as a desert, I continued to feel a continuous claustrophobia. Like I was being squeezed into somewhere I wasn’t meant to fit. A memory, I wasn’t supposed to remember. A dream meant to push me towards the answers I needed.

Then my body was warm. Hot almost, but dry, arid. Almost like an instant drought had set over me. I looked around to see the sun heated roof tops of the desert city. Somewhere in Hammerfell? The Alik’r maybe? Then I realized the lack of control I had over my body. I was moving, faster than I had ever moved. But my body felt frozen cold, and lifeless. As if I was dead, but moving. What is this?

As I moved fluidly, and silently over the clay rooftops of the cities, I could hear the growing sound of a crowd growing close. Then my body was thrust off of a building, into a tight alleyway. Only to look out into a congested road. Filled with the bickering movement of Redguard citizens and peddlers. But my body did not leave it’s position, it only looked around. Searching for something, or someone. Then it jolted, I could see a tall man. Very large, muscular, but with no armor. Minus the cloak he wore to hide his face.

Despite his obvious size difference against my own, my body continued to pull him from the crowd into the alleyway with ease. Then his hood fell off. For me to see a Nordic face that I had never seen before. He was a vampire, without a doubt. His eyes, and very pale face, along with his almost starved facial structure made it evidently clear that he was infected. Then without any hesitation, He was slammed against the alley wall. Only for him to shiver out of an obvious fear.

“Listen,” He spoke, shivering, “L-Lyron, friend. I-I didn’t mean to-“ Then my body slammed him against the wall once again, “Didn’t mean to what?” I spoke, with no control. Almost like I was living through someone else’s eyes, “Didn’t mean to KILL ME?” The Nord flinched as I shouted. “I- You’re- but you’re not dead!” He spoke pleading for his life, “I mean, I-if you w-were dead, you wouldn’t b-be here. R-right?” He asked with uncertainty. Then I set him down. “I guess you are right Bastion,” I backed up, only to grab him by the throat, to slam him against the stone once more, “But I might as well be! This curse made me KILL my family!”

Then out of his choking breath, the man, called Bastion, spoke once again, “That’s the B-bloodlust!” Then I dropped him, cringing my fists. I stood him up, and punched him twice in the center of his chest. He hunched over, wheezing, and gasping for air. “That is the solar-plexus. Right now your diaphragm is temporarily paralyzed, which is why you are finding it quite hard to catch your worthless breath,” I spoke with hatred.I then stood him up, and repeatedly striked his lower left side. “And that,” I spoke in between jabs, “is your Liver.” Then a couple more. “My favorite part about the liver, is that it lies near the vagus nerve, which branches out to the rest of your body,” I spoke calmly, whilst striking him again, “And if you hit it just right, it triggers the reaction.”

I stood him up by his throat, “Your brain short circuits, and your body shuts down,” I then jabbed him once more, still holding him up, “And then you start to feel an uncontrollable terror. Right?” I then gripped his face, “Now listen to me. Listen to me carefully, Bastion,” I spoke clear, and stern, “You tell ‘Tolan, that Dinok is hunting him. And that I will not stop, until my thirst. Has been thoroughly quenched!” And the man’s body fell.

Then, as soon as the vivid memory had started, I was jerked away. My body jolted awake. The sky dark, and I may have only been asleep for minutes. But there was no way sleep was coming to me now. I arose, with more questions than I had wanted, and kicked out my flame. Gathering my gear in a hurry, I started up the blizzard ridden mountain.

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It was a hike that I thought would never end. I had mindlessly trekked up the mountain. In an urgency that my mind would not let go. The blizzard had let off just as dawn had approached. My body now aching for a slight rest. But my mind searching for answers that it didn’t have. Was I this Lyron? Was my master, the only person that I had closest to a father, my enemy? The migraine my mind was pushing through allowed me to mindlessly pass a camp of dreary travelers. And continue wander, on the path, until I decided I needed to clear my mind.

I then fell to my knees, trying to relax my mind. Why am I going through this? Am I losing my mind? Am I insane? I then looked to the horizon, the rising sun’s rays touched my skin. The warmth I felt was incredibly soothing, and relaxing. Almost like it was melting my problems away. “Faas Dinok,” I whispered out of habit. It was a meditation practice that I had done for years. It helped to clear my mind. I stood, feeling slightly better, but with a larger urge to get answers. I then reached into my pouch to pull out a piece of skeever I had saved, as well as my pouch of water.


As I finished my small meal, I could see a small group opposite me. Down the path, the group that I had passed earlier no less. 3 men, and a woman. They seemed well acquainted, and maybe they knew something about who I was going to need to speak to for answers. I wasn’t comfortable with most strangers, but I needed some acquaintances, assuming they are trekking the same way I am. They aren't killers, or targets. Just people, I calmed myself, asI pulled my hood over my head, and pulled my mask down. Only for a short period would I need to wear it. Just until they were comfortable with me. Not a lot of people are quite ‘fond’ of my face.

A warm bed and a warm meal. That was the promise and the draw that that every Inn held for the avergage individual. A chance to return to humanity, to put your feet up by a warm fire as you sat in a wobbly old chair. TRUE BLISS Hlif’Ulfr thought with a sneer and ample sarcasm. For what good is a bed when you have a roll, when you could make your own fire and cook your own meals what good was it all? Humanity was far too overrated in any case.

As the weather beaten Nord trudged through Iverstead he felt none of the draw. The brightly lit windows and the hustle and bustle of everyday life seemed all too cold for him. Unsure of his feelings he lay on the line between not being able to relate to his surroundings and being able to relate far too much. However as soon as the veil of these emotions had been laid over the nord it had been lifted, leaving him once again with nothing. Nothing but a feeling of cold emptiness.

It was not that he didn’t understand or feel the need for sleep but only that he knew he would find it in none of these places. With his usual scowl contorting his face he pushed through Iverstead and over the bridge. Like a beast of the wild, and many would describe this man as a beast he stalked along the river banks a rundown cabin, broken and falling to bits soon becoming his target. As he neared it he began to hear with his heightened sense of hearing manic ramblings, quiet yet in a consistent stream. With the realization that he had stumbled across someone’s home Hlif straightened his stance and walked, still silently, around the building, soon finding the ideal point of entry.

The cabin, if one could even call it that, was indeed falling apart yet clearly lived in. It consisted of, or had at one point, two rooms or at least there had once been a wall dividing the small space into two sections. It was in the corner of the section Hlif’Ulfr had immediately entered that the man found the ragged inhabitant. Many things could have been said or thought about this man however Hlif’Ulfr wasted no time in judging. Nothing gave him the right to judge this man, at least not yet.

Standing respectfully behind the man Hlif cleared his throat, not wanting to startle the man. His consideration was all for naught as was soon discovered as the figure turned and flung his back dramatically to the wall, sinking down slowly to the floor. Many would shake their heads at the dramatic display, Hlif was not amongst their numbers. Beyond the wide eyes and heavy rising and falling of the man’s chest was something the beast understood well. In the man’s eyes was grief. The kind of grief that so strong it drove you insane. The kind of grief that would break the strongest man, that to forget would drive you into the welcome arms of insanity and consume you entirely. A rare few forgot, an even smaller number managed to keep their minds in the process. None escaped that kind of loss unscathed.
Bending at the knee the nord reached eye level with the wide eyed onlooker. A broad grin, enough to warm any heart formed on his lips causing his eyes to crinkle.

“Good sir,” the rugged yet warm voice started with the respect allotted to any nobleman “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

With the cunning quickness of a fox Hlif’Ulfr had wrapped his larger hand around that of the one much smaller than his own. In the same quick movement he had pressed a number of coins into the shaking hand and with his second hand closed the fingers around their cold surface.

“If you’ve got room for me, “ He said not yet releasing the man’s hands but locking in on his eyes “I’d like to rent a room in this fine establishment.”

Pulling away from the obviously confused figure the warrior stood, his gaze lazily traversing the interior of the shack.

“I’ve brought my own bed roll,” he stated refocusing his attention “Something about sleeping in your own bed, you know?”

As the mad man slowly became calm a goofy smile lit up his face. Taking in the respectful nature of the much larger nord he puffed out his chest. From frightened Rabbit to a bird whistling its favourite tune Hlif almost laughed. Soon the man was playing willingly into the grand charade that Hlif’Ulfr had created for the two of them. In maintaining a true respect the man remained quite pleasant, agreeing eventually to eat a meal with his company. It was after this meal of Dried fish and bread that the man, Narfi finally found himself fast asleep, snoring up against a wall.

Hlif grinned and rolled his eyes at the intrusive snoring. Despite himself, and the rambling of the man Hlif’Ulfr had enjoyed his company. Settling into the darkest and less visible of all the corners the Nord leaned up against his belongings, a bottle of mead in his hands. Sighing he looked up at the stars and waited for time to pass.

If the noise, as quiet as it was, had come but a few minutes later Hlif’Ulfr was certain his heavy eyes would have been closed as his ears ignorant to the telling tale. It should not have put him on edge, that sound but for some reason it did not fit the sound of the wild and it caused his nose to wrinkle and lip to curl in a close teethed snarl. It was as if he could smell another predator walking into his den, as he would soon find was completely true.

As he waited to discover the source of the noise be noiselessly brought himself to a crouch. Far too many long supressed memories had trained him to act this way, had warped him into the most dangerous type of beast. Another, barely audible noise whispered its way into the night air, causing Hlif’Ulfr to flex in anticipation, the spikes on his gloves gleaming slightly. His eyes dancing from the opening to the second room to Narfi and back once again. He would not feel foolish if it was only a villager nor a guard, expecting the worst prepared one for the worst and made the best much brighter.

The echoes of his last thoughts had yet to die in his head when the first sign of movement appeared and the smell of death hit his nose. A shadow started to form on the wall accompanied swiftly by a night stalker. f***fing idiots Hlif thought resisting the urge to spit All wearing the same f***fing armor. Easily angered, his eyes began to smolder and his brow furrowed. Clearly the figure had missed him, hidden by the darkness but it was apparent it was not him that the assassin was looking for. His intentions were purely towards Narfi.

As the figure aligned itself with the hidden nord Hlif’Ulfr wasted no time in thinking about his actions. With a tremendous Yell he flew through the small space at the creature. Going in fist first he attacked using only his spiked gloves as weapons he landed his first blow. If he had at all stopped to examine his opponent he would have seen the flapping torn check of his screaming opponent. He did not however stop. With one more swing he landed another punch this time impaling the creature in the stomach.

It was with a measured rage that he had set forth to draw blood, something snapped within him as his own blood was drawn. The stinging he felt in his shoulder brought nothing but blinding rage. Unaware of any pain or damage that may have been inflicted onto his body , unaware of the yelping Narfi as he lay his bloodied fists time and time again into his target.

When he finally found the red in his vision fading away the assassin had been long dead, or at least he assumed. He looked at the pulverised piece of meat that had been pushed up against the wall his chest heaved his face dropped, blank of all expression. His gaze pulled away from his hands, dripping thick with blood to a shocked Narfi. Shaking and dropping his head once more his face was contorted by a snarl.

“I’ll be back.” He snarled collecting the mangled mass in his arms and walked towards the river grumbling the whole way. One unlucky bastard. Probably a new recruit. Walked into a wolfs den thinking it was a rabbits hole.


The fading stars found The nord some way up the mountain and before the sun had reached it’s highest place in the sky it was the steps of high hrothgar where his journey ended. He brought his hand behind his head and squinted his eyes. Amongst all the refuges and those seeking comfort he was lost. He stood out like a sore thumb amidst most of the crowd. Most looked ragged in more than spirit and face, these were no warriors. Sternly Hlif’Ulfr surveyed the area waiting to find someone of authority.

"Well, I'm ready to go" The words were music to Mareks ears. Now, baring any more pit stops I might actually make it up this blasted mountain. He rolled his eyes at the newcomer, Mance, before holding his arm out in front of himself in the direction of the path, "After you. I'll pull rear." He lowered his arm but stayed where he was until everybody else had fallen in line behind Bjulf and begun the remaining leg of the journey up the mountain. Marek was in the rear, right where he wanted to be because it meant that he could keep an eye on everyone else, with Mance and Indari right in front of him, and Bjulf breaking the trail at the front. The younger man seemed to have an affinity towards the cold for reasons Marek hadn't quite been able to place his finger on yet, although he was more than happy to let the guy break the chill winds.

Because he spent most of his time studying the various individuals in the group during the trek up the remaining steps, Marek found it to be somewhat of a surprise when they rounded a bend to find a lone man standing on the path, his head covered by a cloak and mask very similar to Mareks own. Marek stopped, the rest of the group carrying on towards the man, and wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword. Trying to hide his face. Assassin? He's a bold one if he's headed to High Hrothgar. Whatever the case, Marek didn't want to spend too much time worrying about it.

As the group neared the man, Marek picked up his pace a bit, passing the others with long strides. He gave the hooded man a careful glance as he walked passed but didn't otherwise acknowledge him. He was tired of the infamous 'seven thousand steps'. All he wanted was to finally reach High Hrothgar and find a fire.

It came as a more welcome surprise when he came to the very next bend and saw the stone walls of the famous monastery itself. High Hrothgar. Finally! He thought, glancing back at the others. Shrugging his shoulders, Marek trudged up the last few steps and then pushed open the heavy steel doors baring access to the monastery. Hot, smokey air gusted out to meet him as he stepped across the threshold, catching his hood and pushing it back, leaving his head bare. Marek closed the doors behind him as he noticed another new arrival, snow still fresh on his clothes, standing ahead of him. Stepping quietly, despite his size, Marek glided up beside the other man, who was clad in rough traveling armor, and simply inclined his head in the mans direction as he scanned the room in an attempt to spot someone in charge.

"After you. I'll pull rear." Marek declared and Indari and the others started their climb up the mountain again. Bjulf in the lead, she and Mance in the middle and Marek, ever watchful, from behind. Indari wasn't as comfortable with Marek as she was the others. He seemed to be more distrustful than Bjulf and certainly more so than Mance, who didn't seem to be bothered by anything as he walked beside her, a constant stream of chatter.

Not too far up they came upon a lone figure in the middle of the path. Indari's keen eyesight allowed her to see the stranger wore some sort of mask over his face. What has he got to hide? The hairs on her arms prickled and she freed her left side from her cloak and placed her hand on her sword.

"Do we stop?" she asked the others just as Marek strode past them and, without stopping to acknowledge the stranger, continued on to High Hrothgar. Indari was of a mind to keep going as well but was torn between not wanting to appear rude and her desire to reach the temple quickly. She could feel that it wasn't very far now.

"ladies first" Mance indicated to her.

"Thanks" Indari muttered under her breath. She was slightly taken aback that Mance wanted her to greet the stranger first, but boldly strode ahead, passing Bjulf who was watching the man also.

She wanted this over quickly. I need a warm meal and possibly a bath. Indari loved the water and immersed herself in it any chance she got.

She could see the temple up ahead and Marek pushing the doors open as she reached the masked stranger. Standing a good swords length away, and still with her hand on her sword she addressed the masked man.

"Hello there stranger. Are you making your way to High Hrothgar to join with the Sons of the Sword as we are?"

"After you. I'll pull rear." Marek said. Bjulf took the lead of the group as they pushed up the mountain. It was cold, but by now Bjulf was feeding off of it. With each gust of wind, Bjulf fought back, pushing away the storm. He felt strong, he made note to write down later that extreme cold overcharged his mana pool.

Before long, they encountered another. He was hooded, but not like Bjulf. He looked like a sneak to Bjulf. Not to be trusted is my guess. Indari and Mance pushed past him to greet the stranger. Bjulf was not so interested. He followed Marek's lead and jogged past the two.


After the next turn he saw the great monastery. The nord was amazed. He pulled his hood farther over his head, pushed hard against the storm and charged toward the building. He ran up the steps to meet some great large doors.

Bjulf pushed them open. He was greeted with a miraculous warm gust of wind. His large beard blew in the warmth. Meat was being cooked, people were resting, and Bjulf just stood there as the doors slammed shut behind him. It was exactly what he both had hoped and imagined.

“Hello there Stranger,” She spoke, with a sense of nervousness. Without a doubt my mask, I thought. But if I had removed it, her nerves would intensify into a fear, or most likely. “Are you making your way to High Hrothgar to join the Sons of the Sword as we are?” She continued. She wasn’t like most of the other brutes of woman that I had met in this Skyrim. She was undoubtable beautiful, but probably as equally dangerous in battle.

“Not quite,” I spoke briefly, continuing my walk, towards the temple. With her cautiously behind me. “I need to speak to someone about some ancient Dovah scripture, and lore,” I explained, or at least I think so, my mind proceeded. My urge for answers pushed me faster towards the temple. The cool wind, and the warm sun nothing but distractions to me, that I ignored effortlessly. Wait, I stopped, what if they know something?


“Have you ever heard the name Braend ‘On Dinok before?” I asked in a nervous manor. It may have been the fact that I was actually socializing with people I didn’t want to, or that I would get an answer. An answer that would give me more of a search. I walked beside them, in an almost awkward nervous silence awaiting an answer. I am no good at communication, I pitied myself. Why must I be so antisocial?

As they were talking to the new guest, Bjulf pushed onwards to the temple right behind the nord who did the same. "Hello there stranger. Are you making your way to High Hrothgar to join with the Sons of the Sword as we are?" Indari adressed the man with a hand on her sword. 'He's less likely to attack hearing that there's two of us. Still though, might as well be ready in the moment it does happen.' The sounds of the doors being shut brought him back to the present. "Well Bjluf and the man in the hood are at the temple. We must be quite good company." He said as he turned to see Bjluf rush ahead to the temple. “Not quite,” the new guests spoke quick, and walked quicker. Indari and Mance walked around the same pace as the man did to continue the conversation. The three walked until the new man stopped in his tracks, “Have you ever heard the name Braend ‘On Dinok before?” He said with a curious yet nervous tone. "Can't say. Well, if I have, then I don't remember. You should ask the neighbors. I'm sure they know and they are quite sociable." He pointed towards the greybeards with a sarcastic smile. After all, the Greybeards are not known for being sociable or open to most outsiders. "I guess you could walk with us seeing how we're going to the same place. Wouldn't want to drive this girl to kill me for the sake of me shutting up." He gave a playful punch to Indari's arm while the masked man walked nervously next to them.

The stranger hesitated before answering.

“Not quite," he answered and then continued up the path, causing Indari and Mance to follow behind. “I need to speak to someone about some ancient Dovah scripture, and lore,” Interesting thought Indari. Just what I have been studying myself. It's a shame, it doesn't sound like he is going to stick around for long. The three of them walked up the path until they could finally see the steps of the monastery. Well finally! I sure hope we don't have to make that climb too often! The man stopped at looked at Indari and Mance.

“Have you ever heard the name Braend ‘On Dinok before?” The name sounded vageyly familiar to Indari but she couldn't be certain. She shook her head and Mance made a comment about the Greybeards and their hospitality.. Oh brother she groaned inwardly. But, it was still a little funny.

"I guess you could walk with us seeing how we're going to the same place. Wouldn't want to drive this girl to kill me for the sake of me shutting up."she even forgave him for punching her lightly on the arm as the three ascended the steps of High Hrothgar and Indari pushed open the doors. She was greeted by a rush of warm air and the glowing light of several well lit braziers. Indari could see Marek and Bjulf ahead of them through a mass of human bodies. This was not the quiet place of meditation and self discovery that Indari had expected.

"Refugees fleeing the dragons' destruction" she commented to Mance, grabbing his arm to steady herself as two small children raced past them in a game of tag. The doors swung closed behind them and Indari looked around the room, trying to find someone who could direct them to the person in charge. The stranger who had joined them on the final steps of their journey slipped quietly away.

"Let's catch up with Marek and Bjulf, at least we know they are here for the same reason we are." ...and they are armed as well. She still had a hold of Mance's arm, but didn't want to let go. Closed-in crowds like this made her nervous. She knew it was silly, as these people looked to be nothing more but starving refugees, but, one can never be too careful. She had learnt that mistake once or twice before and had the scars to show it.

"Finally the last tablet, only a few more steps" He looked up to the staircase "Only a few more...." He began to walk up again, careful not to slip. He looked the mountain as he climbed. "How had i managed to do this? I thought for sure that i would not make it. Maybe I do have the strength to make it into this group" He made his way around the bend in front of him to see the monastery.

He quickly opened the door, feeling the warmth of a fire. And the sweet scent of food. He closed the doors and walked over to the person handing out the food. "One for me, please" he grabbed one and nodded "Thanks". He found a seat secluded from everybody.

Andrew ate the food quickly. "So many people are here, but its easy to pick out the weaklings, though hopefully they are able pull something out of their hat" He smiled, then thought When do the games even start? He looked around for someone to ask but to no avail. He got up and walked to the fire. "Probably be best if I met a few people while i'm hear, may be nice to have a friend for the time i'm here" The heat of the fire felt nice after sitting on the cold floor for so long.

He sat on the end, where there was a little space left still on bench. He put his hands to the fire. "Its nice to be hot again" He said with a soft smile.

Jason entered the warmth of the Monastery again, and the snow crystals in his beard turned to water. High Horthgar was sprawling with activity, it seemed almost as a city rather than the secluded temple of the Thu'um!

He stood at the top of the large stone stairs leading towards the backyard entrance, and watched the refugees, he had half a mind to get into the fray and try find information about Alduin's expansion, or any other news of resistance of sort, but the crowds were vast, he almost feared to drown if he would walk into it.

He brushed some snow off his shoulders, as he decided there would be other times to gather information.

"Refugees fleeing the dragons' destruction" Indari braced mance's arm as two small children ran through them playing a game of tag. "The innocence of a child is a special thing. The damage must of been profound," He took note of all the refugees in the temple, while Indari looked around, possibly for someone whose in charge. 'All these people without homes or food. what a sad sight.' Even a man like him could feel sorry for these people. "Let's catch up with Marek and Bjulf, at least we know they are here for the same reason we are." Indari tightened her grip on his arm, causing him to look and nod in agreement, "Come on love, let's find them and see what we're up against," He said, trying to assure her. As they walked towards their companions, Mance looked around at his new surrondings and was surprised that this place wasn't what he thought it would be. 'I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe A lot of stone, dark corners, and meditation. Now it just seems to be a safe haven that is almost unreachable.'

the array of lights stemming from the candles drenched the usually dark and stoic temple, fighting back the darkness like a demon from which these people ran from.The temple was filled with people of all races, towns, and jobs. What was probably a quiet,sparse, place was now a waterfall of chattering, playing of children, sorrowful cries, laughing, and people trying to make the best of their current situation. It surprised Mance that a group like the greybeards would take people in on such short notice. Maybe they realized the real threat of a dragon instead of denying it like a Jarl would. Mance could see the latter, ever so slightly. The whole group, even though separated in the temple, were all wondering the same thing about the situation at hand.

Bjulf moved among the crowd. This placed drew his interest and made him wonder just what secrets it held. The large monastery was well lit. There were shouts and laughter, talking, movement. An array of smells filled Bjulf's nostrils as he moved around. Cooked meat, stews, bread, dirt, smoke. Bjulf was amazed and moved about like a small child first visiting a city. Every now and then he would see a greybeard, or a mercenary but most of the people around him had probably lived perfectly normal lives before this.

He eventually found a nice seat at a small table. He was just close enough to the fire to feel its warmth. He had been hoping to read a book about this place for quite a while. He pulled out a book labeled Mysteries of High Hrothgar along with a small piece of bread.

The account of this place was so different. The book described it as silent corridors, lit only by the light the would shine in through the windows. Bjulf cracked a slight smile at the thought of this festive place being calm and quiet.