Chapter 11: Far-Flung Words and Deeds
“MeyZ HET, Krosis!”
The dragon’s voice was deafening as it roared. Though she could not understand it, she could distinguish the word Krosis. The dragon priest emerged shortly from the temple, the double doors swinging open as he approached the dragon. He spoke the same language of power to the dragon.
“I MeyZ, DROG DOVah. HIN VahRUKT SARaan.”
The dragon tilted its head, its slanted eye dilating as it focused on him. It then scanned the crowd of onlookers and growled. “DaaR ROT NI Fah FIN BRON.”
Krosis turned to the assembled hunters and waved his staff. “The dragon lord will not treat with me while so many watch. Make your way indoors. What we have to say is between us alone.”
Asha looked around hesitantly at the other hunters. They bowed as one to the dragon and Krosis and hurried toward the double doors. Asha followed reluctantly. The first dragon she had seen in her life was standing before her, more majestic and terrifying than she could have imagined. Its sharp teeth stuck out from its mouth. Its claws held fast to the rock below. Its folded wings still shifted in the breeze. The massive spikes on its back, nearly half her height, bristled and its bright white eye turned toward her as if noticing her longing gaze. “MAL RaaN,” it hissed at her.
Krosis turned and spotted her. “VEN.”
A gust of wind issued from him and buffeted Asha, knocking her to the ground. She scrambled up and away in terror, fleeing into the fortress. The laughter of the dragon rang in her ears.
She could not bring herself to look at her fellow hunters around her, such was her shame. Krosis had punished her and humiliated her in front of the hunters. And the dragon, her lord, had laughed at her. It was too much to bear. She and the rest of the hunters sat silently in the hall, staring at the double doors and waiting for their master to return. The boom of voices could still be heard outside for some time.
The initiates were at it again, pointing her way and sniggering. She ignored them and stared at the doors. Would he tell them what the dragon had wanted? She almost punched herself at the thought. It was not for small people like herself to know what the gods of the earth spoke of with their chosen lords. The hall felt confining. Her thoughts and her shame made her feel warm and the stuffy hall made it far worse.
The hunters stirred around her, looking toward the double doors. It wasn’t until Asha listened that she realized all was quiet from outside. The Tongue was no longer being spoken. Asha stood from her seat and joined the throng of hunters around the door. They swung open softly and Krosis stood framed in the sunlit opening. The hunters bowed and the senior hunters moved forward to speak. He held up his hand to stop the questions. He spoke clearly to the assembly, “What I have to say concerns our whole fortress.”
The seniors backed off as Krosis moved past, the doors closing in his wake. All eyes followed him as he walked through the hall toward the podium at its end. As he passed Asha, he didn’t even look down at her, his impassive mask fixed ahead. He mounted the steps and stood at the podium, above the heads of everyone in the hall. Silence fell as his staff cracked and then he leaned it against the podium and then leaned heavily on it himself. A concerned murmur went through the hall. He appeared to hold a great weight on his shoulders. Asha had never seen him so defeated.
This momentary relapse in his figure was over as quickly as it had appeared. He stood strong and gripped his staff, cracking it again to regain their attention. Silence followed as his voice rang out. “Hunters, I know you wonder what news the dragon brings. He arrived from the north, from our capital of Bromjunaar.”
Asha felt a warmth spread through her, the name now synonymous with Wulfin. The murmurs around the hall were anything but warm; dark whispers and concerned voices swirled in the smoke-laden air. “Lord Morokei speaks, troubling news from the lands around. The farms are suffering drought and farmers leave their fields. The fish grow fewer from the north where their people grow hungry and need aid. Lord Morokei has gone to the mountains of the East, to the seat of our oracle, Nakrin. He has sought the advice from the servant of Alduin World Eater.”
A chill ran through the hall at the name. The embodiment of the dragon spirit, the god of twilight, and the eventual bringer of the end times, Alduin World Eater was a living god on earth. When he spoke, his word was the law of the divines. Krosis continued in the silence. “The World Eater has given his command; all are required to play their part. We are to hunt for more game, to be sent to Bromjunaar to help in the relief efforts.”
Whispers resumed and an elder hunter stepped forward. “Lord, how can we meet such quotas? We will overhunt.”
“We must wander further afield,” said Krosis. “It is up to our hunters to fulfill this need. Let it be a challenge for our initiate hunters. You initiate must travel into the lands beyond our fortress and find the food our lords demand.”
“When do we leave!” called out an initiate in excitement and received a cuff upside the head for his impudence.
Krosis raised a hand, “I am not finished. There is more at stake. Whatever rumors you hear of rebellion within our provinces, let these rumors fall on deaf ears. More malcontents are arising in the outer provinces, turning to banditry to feed their greed. Any of these, if found, should be killed on sight for there is no mercy for those who disobey the dragons. But we remain strong and united as a people. The dragons will lead us through our struggles just as they always have. Trust your dragon priests, we will serve as we always have.”
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The hunters lowered their heads in submission and Asha quickly followed suit. Krosis raised his staff and spoke clearly, “Your hunt begins on the morrow, spreading far and wide into the Brittle Mountains, the valleys of the south, and around Lake Ilinalta. Prepare yourself, hunters.”
The hunters bowed again and dissipated to their tasks as Krosis stepped away from the podium. Asha looked down as he passed her, unable still to look at him after their last interaction. He stopped and turned to her, forcing her to look back up. His unreadable mask stared back at her and he spoke softly, “You would be wise to heed the words of a dragon quickly, Asha. They are not kind to those who do not obey their word immediately.”
“Yes, yes my lord,” she said, bowing low.
“Tomorrow, you will follow the lake and the base of the mountain,” said Krosis. “There, I want you to scout the land rather than hunt. Report on the animals and their number. We must learn what the land can offer before we hunt without abandon. Whatever we take must be replenished. Do you understand what I ask?”
“I do, Lord Krosis,” Asha responded.
That evening, the conversation around the tables was more subdued. Whispers rose to the wooden beams above and though Asha wasn’t a part of any of them, she could still faintly hear some words repeated consistently.
“Hunt…famine…Alduin…rebellion.”
*
Asha followed a well-worn path from Summer Falls until she reached the river that led to Lake Ilinalta. She turned to follow it upstream to the shores of the lake. She had never been on the north side before. There was no path and the shore was rocky. Scattered trees led to the mountain slopes where the Brittle peaks loomed above. She scrambled over stones and searched the land for edible plants and animals. Though berry bushes were in abundance, the animals on this side were scarce. A few rabbits, wild goats, and a pair of foxes.
Asha continued to wander westward along Ilinalta. She wasn’t sure how far she should go but as no limit was given, she felt the desire to explore. In the past, she might have been afraid to go out and wander far from the confines of home. Now, with a bow in hand and arrows at her side, coupled with a desire to get away from the watchful yet suspicious eyes of the hunters, she was eager to see what lay over the next ridge. Further along the mountain, she wandered, though she knew it could be dangerous. Wolves were a common sight in Skyrim and, for the most unfortunate, sabertooth cats or bears. But, on these rocky and bare shores, it seemed unlikely she would find predators with so few prey. That also meant there was no hunting to be had. Surely that was sign enough to go back.
She ignored the voice of reason within, pushing further along the lake and the Brittle Mountains. She had never seen their western end. Perhaps, she thought with some excitement, she would find them today. She mounted another rise and had a beautiful vantage point to survey the surroundings. Lake Ilinata shone in the light of an afternoon sun and Asha spotted an island in its center that she had never seen before. It jutted out in a promontory and, on its highest slope, a circle of stones stood. Some ancient shrine, perhaps a standing stone, from her distant ancestors. A memory of Oran’s old tales remerged, speaking of the standing stones with imbued magic. They were set up by the early Atmorans and blessed by Jhunal, god of magic. All prayers at these stones were said to be carried on the breath of Kyne to their respective gods, such was her desire for their prayers to be heard.
These stories caused a sadness to creep into her heart. She missed them, more than she liked to admit. She looked away and saw a small bay carved out by the lake and inland, the forest grew thick against the mountain. Asha smiled and pointed with her bow. “I’ll bet anything there’s game in there.”
She made her way toward it and walked briskly into the shade of the trees. She gave a sigh of relief, happy to be out of the sun and not longer scrambling over rocks. She scanned the trees and spotted a few deer, keeping still to avoid her gaze. She smiled, whispering to herself, “Perfect,” but let them be. No hunting for today, but she hoped this bode well. She delved further in, even to the foot of the mountain with its steep slopes. There was a number of deer, goats, and small game. But so too were there wolves. She spotted a pack of three burrowing in the earth to get at a rodent in its hole. She snuck quickly away before she was spotted and, in an effort to avoid them, nearly ran into the cave before she saw it.
It was an overgrown entrance but a clearly defined cave opening nonetheless. It lay before her, dark and foreboding, but tantalizingly clear to explore. She had never heard of tunnels beneath the Brittle Mountains. As large as they were, she had always heard they weren’t impressive enough to hold Dwemer holds or old Atmoran temples. But this tunnel…
She cleared away some brush and saw a statue on one side then the other. They were Atmoran in nature, weathered and half-destroyed faces of old men with long beards. They must have been very old, images of Shor, before the time when dragons were the only statues that could be carved. So this tunnel might have been part of an old Atmoran ruin. She hesitated at the entrance, unsure if she should proceed.
An echo came from within, faint and incomprehensible, but a noise nonetheless. It sounded like a human voice. Asha’s curiosity got the better of her and, after grabbing her single torch from her pack and lighting it, she marched into its dark depths.
It used to be a temple, no doubt. Away from the weathering on the surface, there were rough stairs fashioned out of stones. The passage was narrow and she struggled over collapsed bits of the roof. On and on the tunnel went, with no sign of any structures or carvings. The sound came again, clearly a voice. It was yelling. Asha felt nervous energy pumping through her. Someone was down here. She pulled out a arrow and notched it to her bow, holding both awkwardly in one hand while lifting the torch high in the other.
She reached a set of clear stone steps leading down into the earth and hesitated again. “Back! Get back!” came the voice, a man’s, screaming.
Followed on his heels was a strange, chittering sound that was altogether foreign to Asha. But she knew that voice was someone in trouble. She hurried forward, keeping her eyes down to watch her footing. She reached the bottom and looked up, crying out in surprised alarm. A massive stone face of Shor greeted her and she cursed herself for her outburst.
“Whose there?” called the voice, echoing strangely. “Please help me!”
More chittering. Asha couldn’t stop to ponder what to do. She moved forward quickly, around a bend and toward a light at the end of the tunnel. When she emerged, she gasped in surprise.
A massive cavern opened up before her. Pillars of stone, natural stalagmite, and stalactite formations formed the support beams. The room was lit by holes in the rocky roof above, allowing sunlight to stream in through multiple openings. Rough, Atmoran carvings were on the walls and a central platform was on one end of the room, a sacrificial altar for offerings to the gods. On the platform was a man, swinging an old ax in one hand, yelling at the creatures pinning him down.
Asha had never seen them before but had heard all about them. Hairy bodies, eight legs, and too many eyes for any creature, black and merciless.
Giant spiders.