Things only got worse once the dragon, supposedly the gods' answer to Crujir's prayers for a second chance, being as as it saved it from being beheaded, showed up and started torching Helgen. At first he thought he might already be dead, and had possibly passed on to the underworld, but he wasn't about to take a chance.
His head hurting even more now from having it land hard on the chopping block, Cru staggered to his feet, his hands still bound, and followed a man into a nearby tower. Still disoriented, he leaned against a wall inside as the door shut behind him, and all hell broke loose outside. His head throbbed, and his wrists were starting to bleed from being bound for so long. The ropes digging into his flesh had no mercy.
“What is that thing?” a man exclaimed inside the tower. Cru took some more deep breaths and glanced over at the man who asked the question. “Could the legends be true?” The man was clearly terrified, but also amazed.
“Legends don't burn down villages,” said the other man in response. “We have to get out of here.” The door they entered through was not a viable option, as several large rocks had fallen outside, blockading it entirely. Noticing some clatter upstairs, Cru turned and looked up. There was a man up there, an archer. He approached the man, hoping to find a window and get a good view of the chaos outside.
As he neared the top of the stairs, the dragon's head suddenly burst through the wall, crushing the archer under the rubble. Cru stumbled back, and nearly fell down the stairs. The dragon angrily spit a stream of fire into the puncture it created in the tower. The heat was unbearable, even from a distance. If the man under the rubble wasn't dead before, he was now. The dragon flew off again, tearing through the sky with it's gigantic wings, and equally gigantic roars.
Gasp!
Crujir sat up suddenly, reaching for his sword and breathing heavily. Another dream. It was night, and he had been asleep since the events at the cave full of necromancers. He took a deep breath, and released his grip on his sword, letting it remain in the sheath. He sprawled out on the cool grass again. He realized he was still very tired, and very hungry.
His lack of good nutrition, as well as a lack of any combat for a long while, had dulled his senses and made him unprepared for the conflict he encountered in the cave. Shoddy equipment didn't help, either. He ate the remainder of his berries, and got to his feet. His back was stiff from sleeping on the ground, and he could still feel where the skeleton had struck him in the back. Healing spells healed his wounds extremely fast, but minor side effects often remained for a while. Some mages claim that they've never had this issue, leading them to believe that Crujir was not as talented at magic as his parents were. He didn't care.
The echo of pain he felt in his back would fade soon, though the gash in his hide armor would not. He needed new armor if he was going to be adventuring in a place he was completely unfamiliar with. He decided he would take a break from any dangerous adventuring for now, until he had at least one piece of armor that wasn't hide or fur.
It was cold outside. The wind was blowing, and carried the howls of distant wolves with it. Cru shivered for a moment from the cold, and gathered all of his equipment. He wasn't sure which direction he wanted to travel. After scanning the area, he settled on following the road northwest, avoiding any caves along the way.
He walked leisurely for a several days, stopping only to rest and hunt for food. He greeted some travelers along the way, most of them Nords. Many of them were couriers or merchants, delivering their goods to different cities and settlements across Skyrim. Almost everyone he encountered was generally friendly. Having gone mostly undisturbed, the only threat he encountered was by a riverbank when he stopped for water. Hidden behind a rock was a very territorial mudcrab, which also turned out to be very delicious.
He avoided most towns and settlements he came across until he arrived early in the morning at the front gate of Solitude, one of Skyrim's five major cities far in the north. He had wandered far from Helgen. He decided he would stop in and take a break and sleep in a bed that night. Entering through the large wooden gate, he immediately noticed a crowd gathering right near the gate, just off to the right. Curious, he joined the crowd.. In front of them was an executioner, standing over a chopping block. A man was to be executed within a few minutes.
Is this happening everywhere?
After some clamor from the crowd, the man was executed. Most of the crowd seemed pleased that he was dead, save for a little girl, who watched the execution with her father. Cru looked at him in shock. After realizing that the man was staring back, he gathered himself and spoke.
“You brought your daughter to an execution?”
“Yes,” the man replied without guilt. “He was her uncle. She's going to miss him, but she needs to understand that he did something bad, and had to be responsible for his actions.” Cru cut the conversation off at that point. He didn't care what her uncle did. She didn't need to see him beheaded, especially by a stranger in a mask. No child can be prepared to see a someone do something that traumatizing to a person they love. He knew it first hand. He had been on both sides of that fence.
Trying to forget his first impression with the city, he got directions from a guard to the nearest general store, Bits and Pieces. He hoped to sell some of the extra gear he had and obtain at least one piece of decent armor.
He entered the store and greeted the owner, a Redguard woman with short black hair.
“Beirand told me you arrived in Solitude just before the execution,” she said to her new customer. “Must have been a lovely first sight.”
“Who's Beirand?” he asked.
“Beirand's my husband. He's the blacksmith up at Castle Dour. I hardly see him anymore, what with all the large orders he's been filling for the army.” Cru kept the blacksmith in mind for later.
Perusing the store's inventory, his eye caught a banded iron shield, which would be a decent replacement for his hide shield. He sold some animal skins, his hide shield, the two iron daggers he obtained from the cave, and some loot he had taken from people he had to fight on the way out of Helgen. After that, he had just enough for the iron shield and some extra food, with a little bit of gold left over. After making his purchases, he stepped outside to explore the city.
Solitude wasn't as quiet and peaceful as it's name might imply. The city was bustling with rumors and constant news about the war, and about dragons. Most of those in town supported the Empire, blaming the Stormcloaks for all of the chaos and bloodshed. Apparently the man who was executed that morning had a large part to play in starting the entire war, hence his execution. As nightfall approached, Cru decided to find a good inn for the night.
He found a large inn by the name of The Winking Skeever. Entering the tavern, he greeted the innkeeper and inquired about a room for the night. After exchanging ten gold pieces for a good night's sleep, he went straight to his room and slept without moving the entire night.
Cru rose to the sound of travelers in the main room, happily sipping from their mugs and bragging about their great adventures. A bard was skillfully playing the lute for the crowd. He sat up, stretched, gathered his things, and headed for the exit without hesitation. He handed his key over to the innkeeper and gave a nod. His soreness now long gone, and wielding a new shield, he set out for more exploring and treasure hunting. The adventurer in him didn't see fit to make a living any other way.
He wandered for about an hour without event, staring in awe at the majestic mountains, especially the tallest, The Throat of the World. The tales he had been told about the tallest mountain in Skyrim could not match up to it's splendor when seen in person. He wondered what mysteries it held, and what dangers. Even though it was far away from where he was, there was no mistaking which mountain it was. He continued walking, taking in all of the scenery around him. Having strayed from the road, he soon approached an open plain. He felt as if he were being watched.
A wolf's howl echoed through the plain. It was much closer than the howls that were heard the other night. In a split second, Cru drew his sword and shield, spinning around to find the source of the creature's call. On a large boulder was a black wolf, growling. It leaped off of the rock and sprinted for the battle-ready Nord. Cru raised his shield as the wolf pounced, bouncing it back and giving him the opportunity for a counter attack. One strike to it's body, and it was wounded. It attempted another leap. He immediately pushed it off to the side with his shield again, and struck at it's neck with his iron sword, landing the killing blow. Not hesitating for a moment, he scanned the plain with his eyes, preparing for more wolves.
Where there's one...
Seconds later, there was an angry growl as Another wolf approached fast from behind. Cru spun around to meet his new attacker. One iron sword and one wolf's skull later, another kill. Trailing right behind that one was another wolf. It pounced, landing a bite on the leg of a now angry Nord.
Mistake.
He kicked the wolf hard in the throat with his free leg and brought his sword down on it's neck with all his might, nearly beheading the beast and immediately ending it's one-hit streak. He waited for more wolves, but none came. Frustrated by the fact that he had let the wolf get close enough to bite him, he sheathed his sword momentarily, and called upon his magical abilities to heal his wound. Once again, his wound would heal, but the punctures in his armor would remain.
After several more hours, he was traversing across snowy hills inhabited by frostbite spiders that didn't take kindly to him treading on their territory. They watched him pass by, and he watched them with his sword at this side. He hoped they didn't attack. He hated spiders, especially big ones. These ones were the size of wolves. They kept their distance, and he hurried on, checking behind him for the next several miles to make sure he wasn't being followed. He kept his sword out until he was sure he was safe.
A small group of bandits was gathered just over the next hill, occupying an abandoned watchtower. Approaching the snow-covered stone tower, Cru noticed it was connected with a bridge to the left, crossing over the canyon below. Thinking he wasn't spotted yet, he slowly continued forward. To his surprise, an angry Khajiit rushed at him from the entrance of the tower, wildly swinging a hefty battleaxe.
After dodging two swings, and getting knocked back by a third that struck his shield, Cru was able to draw his sword. Responding to the assault with a yell and a hefty swing, he cut across the cat's hide armor, spilling his blood in the snow. The attacker clutched his torso, fell to the ground, and slowly died. Two more bandits, one Orc and one human, followed up. The Orc, wielding a one-handed axe and shield, landed a blow to Cru's chest, then immediately received two large gashes in his upper body. Blocking the next attack and staggering the Orc, Cru swung again, this time bringing his opponent to his knees. He immediately ran the Orc through the chest with his sword, and pushed him off with his foot.
The third bandit had a small dagger, and was attempting several quick swings and jabs, all of which were either dodged or deflected. After toying with him a bit, Cru swung his sword at the bandit's left arm. Blood poured out and ran down his side. Cru spun around, striking at the bandit's throat with great momentum and sending him flailing helplessly to the ground. He bled onto the snow and rolled downhill until his body was stopped by a stone emplacement that was connected with the nearby road. Cru healed himself again, and gathered all of the valuables from the bandit bodies, including a horned iron helmet, which he very quickly and enthusiastically put on his head.
After raiding the bodies, he entered the tower. The torches inside were lit, and there was food and weapons stored inside. He heard angry chatter upstairs, and immediately drew his sword. Not hesitating for a moment, he climbed the stairs to meet whoever was making all the noise. He found himself face to face with another bandit, this one clothed in black robes. His hands began to glow.
Without hesitating, Cru attacked the mage, slashing him diagonally across his chest and causing him to fall to one knee. He then stabbed downward through his left shoulder, killing him. An arrow whizzed past Cru's head and flew over the tower. He darted down the stairs one level and ducked behind the wall near a doorway leading out to the bridge. He peeked out, and saw that another bandit was firing arrows from about halfway across. Another arrow struck the outside of the wall, right next to his face. He took cover behind the wall, sheathed his sword, and prepared his bow. Returning fire, he missed, and was hit in the leg. Cru pulled the arrow out, causing more pain, and making him angry. He put his bow away, and grabbed his sword and shield again.
Cru peeked out for a moment to draw the bandit's fire. The bandit released another arrow, and Cru ducked behind the wall for a moment. Then, fully ignoring the pain in his leg, he charged at the bandit at incredible speed. Another arrow was fired, but it was deflected by the iron shield. The archer panicked and fumbled for his dagger. Before he could wield it, he was hit with a full force swing and knocked off of the bridge, careening to his death and frightening a deer below. After scanning the area for a bit and ensuring there were no more potential threats nearby, Cru gathered some gold and an iron dagger from the dead mage, as well as his robes. Despite the holes and bloodstains, the robes had value. They were no doubt enchanted, as most mage robes were. He headed to the ground floor of the tower, and stepped outside, his mind racing.
His head hurting even more now from having it land hard on the chopping block, Cru staggered to his feet, his hands still bound, and followed a man into a nearby tower. Still disoriented, he leaned against a wall inside as the door shut behind him, and all hell broke loose outside. His head throbbed, and his wrists were starting to bleed from being bound for so long. The ropes digging into his flesh had no mercy.
“What is that thing?” a man exclaimed inside the tower. Cru took some more deep breaths and glanced over at the man who asked the question. “Could the legends be true?” The man was clearly terrified, but also amazed.
“Legends don't burn down villages,” said the other man in response. “We have to get out of here.” The door they entered through was not a viable option, as several large rocks had fallen outside, blockading it entirely. Noticing some clatter upstairs, Cru turned and looked up. There was a man up there, an archer. He approached the man, hoping to find a window and get a good view of the chaos outside.
As he neared the top of the stairs, the dragon's head suddenly burst through the wall, crushing the archer under the rubble. Cru stumbled back, and nearly fell down the stairs. The dragon angrily spit a stream of fire into the puncture it created in the tower. The heat was unbearable, even from a distance. If the man under the rubble wasn't dead before, he was now. The dragon flew off again, tearing through the sky with it's gigantic wings, and equally gigantic roars.
Gasp!
Crujir sat up suddenly, reaching for his sword and breathing heavily. Another dream. It was night, and he had been asleep since the events at the cave full of necromancers. He took a deep breath, and released his grip on his sword, letting it remain in the sheath. He sprawled out on the cool grass again. He realized he was still very tired, and very hungry.
His lack of good nutrition, as well as a lack of any combat for a long while, had dulled his senses and made him unprepared for the conflict he encountered in the cave. Shoddy equipment didn't help, either. He ate the remainder of his berries, and got to his feet. His back was stiff from sleeping on the ground, and he could still feel where the skeleton had struck him in the back. Healing spells healed his wounds extremely fast, but minor side effects often remained for a while. Some mages claim that they've never had this issue, leading them to believe that Crujir was not as talented at magic as his parents were. He didn't care.
The echo of pain he felt in his back would fade soon, though the gash in his hide armor would not. He needed new armor if he was going to be adventuring in a place he was completely unfamiliar with. He decided he would take a break from any dangerous adventuring for now, until he had at least one piece of armor that wasn't hide or fur.
It was cold outside. The wind was blowing, and carried the howls of distant wolves with it. Cru shivered for a moment from the cold, and gathered all of his equipment. He wasn't sure which direction he wanted to travel. After scanning the area, he settled on following the road northwest, avoiding any caves along the way.
He walked leisurely for a several days, stopping only to rest and hunt for food. He greeted some travelers along the way, most of them Nords. Many of them were couriers or merchants, delivering their goods to different cities and settlements across Skyrim. Almost everyone he encountered was generally friendly. Having gone mostly undisturbed, the only threat he encountered was by a riverbank when he stopped for water. Hidden behind a rock was a very territorial mudcrab, which also turned out to be very delicious.
He avoided most towns and settlements he came across until he arrived early in the morning at the front gate of Solitude, one of Skyrim's five major cities far in the north. He had wandered far from Helgen. He decided he would stop in and take a break and sleep in a bed that night. Entering through the large wooden gate, he immediately noticed a crowd gathering right near the gate, just off to the right. Curious, he joined the crowd.. In front of them was an executioner, standing over a chopping block. A man was to be executed within a few minutes.
Is this happening everywhere?
After some clamor from the crowd, the man was executed. Most of the crowd seemed pleased that he was dead, save for a little girl, who watched the execution with her father. Cru looked at him in shock. After realizing that the man was staring back, he gathered himself and spoke.
“You brought your daughter to an execution?”
“Yes,” the man replied without guilt. “He was her uncle. She's going to miss him, but she needs to understand that he did something bad, and had to be responsible for his actions.” Cru cut the conversation off at that point. He didn't care what her uncle did. She didn't need to see him beheaded, especially by a stranger in a mask. No child can be prepared to see a someone do something that traumatizing to a person they love. He knew it first hand. He had been on both sides of that fence.
Trying to forget his first impression with the city, he got directions from a guard to the nearest general store, Bits and Pieces. He hoped to sell some of the extra gear he had and obtain at least one piece of decent armor.
He entered the store and greeted the owner, a Redguard woman with short black hair.
“Beirand told me you arrived in Solitude just before the execution,” she said to her new customer. “Must have been a lovely first sight.”
“Who's Beirand?” he asked.
“Beirand's my husband. He's the blacksmith up at Castle Dour. I hardly see him anymore, what with all the large orders he's been filling for the army.” Cru kept the blacksmith in mind for later.
Perusing the store's inventory, his eye caught a banded iron shield, which would be a decent replacement for his hide shield. He sold some animal skins, his hide shield, the two iron daggers he obtained from the cave, and some loot he had taken from people he had to fight on the way out of Helgen. After that, he had just enough for the iron shield and some extra food, with a little bit of gold left over. After making his purchases, he stepped outside to explore the city.
Solitude wasn't as quiet and peaceful as it's name might imply. The city was bustling with rumors and constant news about the war, and about dragons. Most of those in town supported the Empire, blaming the Stormcloaks for all of the chaos and bloodshed. Apparently the man who was executed that morning had a large part to play in starting the entire war, hence his execution. As nightfall approached, Cru decided to find a good inn for the night.
He found a large inn by the name of The Winking Skeever. Entering the tavern, he greeted the innkeeper and inquired about a room for the night. After exchanging ten gold pieces for a good night's sleep, he went straight to his room and slept without moving the entire night.
Cru rose to the sound of travelers in the main room, happily sipping from their mugs and bragging about their great adventures. A bard was skillfully playing the lute for the crowd. He sat up, stretched, gathered his things, and headed for the exit without hesitation. He handed his key over to the innkeeper and gave a nod. His soreness now long gone, and wielding a new shield, he set out for more exploring and treasure hunting. The adventurer in him didn't see fit to make a living any other way.
He wandered for about an hour without event, staring in awe at the majestic mountains, especially the tallest, The Throat of the World. The tales he had been told about the tallest mountain in Skyrim could not match up to it's splendor when seen in person. He wondered what mysteries it held, and what dangers. Even though it was far away from where he was, there was no mistaking which mountain it was. He continued walking, taking in all of the scenery around him. Having strayed from the road, he soon approached an open plain. He felt as if he were being watched.
A wolf's howl echoed through the plain. It was much closer than the howls that were heard the other night. In a split second, Cru drew his sword and shield, spinning around to find the source of the creature's call. On a large boulder was a black wolf, growling. It leaped off of the rock and sprinted for the battle-ready Nord. Cru raised his shield as the wolf pounced, bouncing it back and giving him the opportunity for a counter attack. One strike to it's body, and it was wounded. It attempted another leap. He immediately pushed it off to the side with his shield again, and struck at it's neck with his iron sword, landing the killing blow. Not hesitating for a moment, he scanned the plain with his eyes, preparing for more wolves.
Where there's one...
Seconds later, there was an angry growl as Another wolf approached fast from behind. Cru spun around to meet his new attacker. One iron sword and one wolf's skull later, another kill. Trailing right behind that one was another wolf. It pounced, landing a bite on the leg of a now angry Nord.
Mistake.
He kicked the wolf hard in the throat with his free leg and brought his sword down on it's neck with all his might, nearly beheading the beast and immediately ending it's one-hit streak. He waited for more wolves, but none came. Frustrated by the fact that he had let the wolf get close enough to bite him, he sheathed his sword momentarily, and called upon his magical abilities to heal his wound. Once again, his wound would heal, but the punctures in his armor would remain.
After several more hours, he was traversing across snowy hills inhabited by frostbite spiders that didn't take kindly to him treading on their territory. They watched him pass by, and he watched them with his sword at this side. He hoped they didn't attack. He hated spiders, especially big ones. These ones were the size of wolves. They kept their distance, and he hurried on, checking behind him for the next several miles to make sure he wasn't being followed. He kept his sword out until he was sure he was safe.
A small group of bandits was gathered just over the next hill, occupying an abandoned watchtower. Approaching the snow-covered stone tower, Cru noticed it was connected with a bridge to the left, crossing over the canyon below. Thinking he wasn't spotted yet, he slowly continued forward. To his surprise, an angry Khajiit rushed at him from the entrance of the tower, wildly swinging a hefty battleaxe.
After dodging two swings, and getting knocked back by a third that struck his shield, Cru was able to draw his sword. Responding to the assault with a yell and a hefty swing, he cut across the cat's hide armor, spilling his blood in the snow. The attacker clutched his torso, fell to the ground, and slowly died. Two more bandits, one Orc and one human, followed up. The Orc, wielding a one-handed axe and shield, landed a blow to Cru's chest, then immediately received two large gashes in his upper body. Blocking the next attack and staggering the Orc, Cru swung again, this time bringing his opponent to his knees. He immediately ran the Orc through the chest with his sword, and pushed him off with his foot.
The third bandit had a small dagger, and was attempting several quick swings and jabs, all of which were either dodged or deflected. After toying with him a bit, Cru swung his sword at the bandit's left arm. Blood poured out and ran down his side. Cru spun around, striking at the bandit's throat with great momentum and sending him flailing helplessly to the ground. He bled onto the snow and rolled downhill until his body was stopped by a stone emplacement that was connected with the nearby road. Cru healed himself again, and gathered all of the valuables from the bandit bodies, including a horned iron helmet, which he very quickly and enthusiastically put on his head.
After raiding the bodies, he entered the tower. The torches inside were lit, and there was food and weapons stored inside. He heard angry chatter upstairs, and immediately drew his sword. Not hesitating for a moment, he climbed the stairs to meet whoever was making all the noise. He found himself face to face with another bandit, this one clothed in black robes. His hands began to glow.
Without hesitating, Cru attacked the mage, slashing him diagonally across his chest and causing him to fall to one knee. He then stabbed downward through his left shoulder, killing him. An arrow whizzed past Cru's head and flew over the tower. He darted down the stairs one level and ducked behind the wall near a doorway leading out to the bridge. He peeked out, and saw that another bandit was firing arrows from about halfway across. Another arrow struck the outside of the wall, right next to his face. He took cover behind the wall, sheathed his sword, and prepared his bow. Returning fire, he missed, and was hit in the leg. Cru pulled the arrow out, causing more pain, and making him angry. He put his bow away, and grabbed his sword and shield again.
Cru peeked out for a moment to draw the bandit's fire. The bandit released another arrow, and Cru ducked behind the wall for a moment. Then, fully ignoring the pain in his leg, he charged at the bandit at incredible speed. Another arrow was fired, but it was deflected by the iron shield. The archer panicked and fumbled for his dagger. Before he could wield it, he was hit with a full force swing and knocked off of the bridge, careening to his death and frightening a deer below. After scanning the area for a bit and ensuring there were no more potential threats nearby, Cru gathered some gold and an iron dagger from the dead mage, as well as his robes. Despite the holes and bloodstains, the robes had value. They were no doubt enchanted, as most mage robes were. He headed to the ground floor of the tower, and stepped outside, his mind racing.
