With my home slightly furnished (and a bed for Lydia) I left to finally make my ascent to High Hrothgar, upon the Throat of the World. It sounded neat, and I had so many questions to ask these 'Greybeards'. I'll admit I felt a little bad leaving Lydia to guard my house... I can't imagine it's the burning desire of every Housecarl to guard their Thane's property...instead of guarding their Thane through the thick of battle. I've come to prefer sneaking about on my own, but perhaps after this trip I'll take Lydia with me on my next excursion.
I arrived at the small village situated at the base of the climb. The people had little to tell me about the mountain itself. Many pilgrims made the 5,000 step climb to the top, but none had ever even met a Greybeard in person. There was a villager who traveled every so often to drop off supplies, and since I was on my way up I offered to do it. It also appeared they had a pretty creepy crypt only a few feet away that appeared to be haunted. I may be still learning this whole adventuring stuff but haunted usually also means full of treasure. Perhaps after my return from the mountain.
I spent the night at the inn and began my climb early in the morning. I can hardly imagine anyone making this climb more than once in their life. The steps got steeper and steeper and the wind got colder and colder. Before long it became hard to see more than ten paces away. Hard to see anything, especially the wolves. Nearly tore out my throat if I hadn't had my armor on. I had thought people said this was a peaceful climb, and here I am fighting for my life. I came face to face with an Ice Troll, of all things. I managed to take a couple of shots at it with my bow while it fed on a goat, which just seemed to piss it off. Moments later I almost found myself flying off the cliff as the troll chased me around. every time I got a few lucky hits in with my daggers, it would regenerate its wounds and smack me around. I was losing too much blood and it was not. As I dove behind a rock, I suddenly remembered a book I read in the Jarl of Whiterun's fortress. A book on Troll killing. How could I have been so stupid - they had a weakness to fire. I'm no wizard, but I did have three things: A poison that weakened my target to fire, an enchanted fire dagger, and a fireball scroll - so easy even a child could use it! Using what little time I had, I applied my poison to an arrow and let it fly at the troll's face. As it staggered back momentarily, I prepared my scroll and unleashed a fireball upon him. The troll flew back, falling on one knee. With a leap I dispatched it with my enchanted dagger. Remind me to stock up on fire based things for my next encounter.
I could barely tell the time of day as I finally beheld the great fortress that housed the Greybeards - High Hrothgar. I approached, a little cautiously, making sure to leave the food offering in the chest before entering. I was greeted by four men, only one of whom spoke to me, asking if I was truly the one, The Dragonborn. I replied by shouting FUS in his face. This actually pleased them, confirming my status. I was about to be put to the test, however, as I was tasked with learning even more words of power. It was a strange affair, the Greybeards inscribing ancient words of power upon the ground, and instilling within me the power to understand to vocalize them. I learned to focus my shout of power - FUS RO - which became even more powerful. It seems that these Greybeards commune and pray and study and train for years and years, just to master a single word, and yet I master them in mere minutes. That is the power of a Dragonborn, with a knowledge of this power locked inside me. So many questions come to mind... Were my parents Dragonborn too? Who did I get this power from? I was told the dragons awakening must all be part of some destiny that I am tied to as well. It is no coincidence that a Dragonborn arrives as Dragons return to the sky. Was it destiny then, that led me to be an orphan? That set the bandits to burn my old home? That made me run north, to Skyrim? I am not sure I can believe this yet..but something larger than myself is at work. As a Dragonborn, it is up to myself to control my powers, and only I have the power to reserve them for times of need, or to abuse them for my own personal gain. Heavy stuff, no doubt. I learned one last word of power before I left, that moves me in a rapid force. However I was unable to meet their leader who lives farther still up the mountain that is at the moment impassible to me....for now
I returned to the base of the mountain much faster than I had ascended, thanks in part to my new Shout of Power, and the fact that I had dispatched all the wolves and trolls lurking along the mountain path. Blinding snow made way to a starry night, and here I am in this inn once more. Tomorrow I shall take my leave...though I am not sure where. The Greybeards want me to recover a relic from their founder, somewhere far to the northwest. Maybe I'll take Lydia with me, you never know whats waiting out there.
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