Camping and Convosations

As we exited the cave, Ralof called out, "Wait!"

We turned to see Alduin soaring high above us, his massive form silhouetted against the sky as he flew far into the distance.

"There he goes. Looks like he's gone for good this time," Ralof remarked, a mix of relief and lingering dread washing over not just Ralof, but us all.

Ralof's expression turned serious. "There's no way to know if anyone else made it out alive. But this place is going to be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We'd better clear out of here." With that, we began to walk forward.

"My sister Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road and to the right. I'm sure she'd help you two out," Ralof continued, glancing back at us.

"It's probably best if we split up," he suggested. "Good luck. I wouldn't have made it without your help today."

"Should we? Split up, that is?" Daenerys asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"If we encounter Imperials, and they see me, they'll likely cause a hassle. We're entering neutral territory, but you never know what they'll do. If I run in a straight line through the woods and avoid the road, I should make it back in time for supper. I've done this before."

"We'll be fine," I reassured Daenerys, then turned to Ralof. "Thanks for your help, Ralof. We'll see you on the morrow."

"Yes, I thank you for your aid, Sir," Daenerys added, her tone dignified. Ralof gave her an amused look. "You're welcome, lass."

"You'll likely only have to worry about a small pack of wolves if they're hungry. But I'm sure you can handle that after what we just went through," Ralof warned, though his tone was reassuring. With a nod, he took off toward the east.

As he disappeared into the trees, I felt my inner quest shift from him to the point where I assumed Riverwood lay. Daenerys and I continued down the road, and I decided it was time to educate her, or atleast get a start. "There are no knights in this land. The title 'Thane' is somewhat similar, but it's sparsely awarded by Jarls."

Daenerys looked at me, her interest piqued as she sought to familiarise herself with this new world and its political structure. "Oh?" she asked, eager to learn.

"A Thane is like a champion of a Jarl's hold, an important community member and warrior of the Jarl's land. A Thane is usually granted a Huscarl or Housecarl and the ability to purchase property on the land," I summarised.

"Huscarl?"

"Also a kind of Knight, but more of a sworn shield who can also serve as a steward or castellan if needed. A warrior companion to a Thane."

Daenerys nodded, processing the information. "And what exactly is a Jarl? Is it just like a lord, as you've alluded?"

"Similar, very similar," I confirmed, continuing, "It's technically hereditary; the eldest inherits, son or daughter. However, Nords believe profiting off your parents' achievements is a sign of weakness. So anyone can challenge the Jarl's leadership and duel for the right to be Jarl, as long as they are a citizen of the Jarl's fiefdom."

"Wouldn't people always just challenge the Jarl then?" she questioned, her brow furrowing.

"No. Nord culture dictates that challenges are only made when there's a decent reason. It's not written down what you need to challenge, but contestants usually show up with a good portion of the hold's community leaders backing their claim."

"Quite strange," she remarked, bewildered.

"Better than Westeros's 'trial by combat,' if you ask me. You just have to be good at fighting, and you can get away with anything."

"That's fair," Daenerys nodded.

We came to a spot in the road where three shrines stood—pillars engraved with the symbols of a Warrior, a Rogue, and a Mage. Each pillar rounded out at the top with a hole above the engravings. "These are three of the thirteen Guardian Stones, ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape," I explained as Daenerys inspected them.

"You have the Warrior, Thief, and Mage Stones. Each grants minor blessings in their respective fields. See?" I walked over to the Warrior Stone and placed my hand on it, feeling a magical energy prod at my consciousness, as if questioning my intent. I granted it permission by thinking, 'I accept.' The hole at the top of the stone coalesced into a blue orb, and I felt a rush of energy, intuitively knowing I would learn combat-related skills more effectively.

I looked over at Daenerys, who appeared shocked, then uncertain as she examined each stone. "Which should I take?" she asked.

"Well, do you want to get better at fighting, sneaking, or magic going forward? The Warrior Stone enhances skills like blocking with shields, melee combat, heavy armour use, and smithing; the Mage Stone focuses on all things related to magic casting; and the Thief Stone improves skills like archery, potion-making, light armour use, lockpicking, pickpocketing, sneaking around unnoticed, and speaking convincingly to others. You can only have one blessing from the thirteen stones, but we can come back and change it later if you change your mind."

"Could you teach me magic?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

I thought for a moment, reaching out to my fire spell and probing how I activated it. I unleashed a burst of fire from my hand, but nothing happened. It was just a mental switch that activated the magic—no knowledge of the how's or why's involved. I simply did it. I looked at Daenerys, who was watching my fiery hand with keen interest. "No, sorry. Magic just comes intuitively to me. I'd be a terrible teacher and might accidentally get you hurt," I said apologetically. "However, I do have a tome on lightning magic for you to read, and we can buy more later. I definitely want you to learn the healing spell at least."

Daenerys took a moment to consider this. "Is there any cost to magic?" she asked.

"It just costs magicka, as far as I know. Each spell drains a pool of power within you at different rates. When you run out, you need to take a moment to regain that power before you can cast again, or you can drink magicka potions. Experience widens that pool, offering you more magicka to work with," I explained, sharing what little I knew. I pulled out the magicka potions I had found earlier and showd it to her. "There are other types of magic, like enchanting equipment to add effects, but I know little about those magics."

"Okay," she said determinedly, then walked over to the Mage Stone. After a moment, it lit up, and Daenerys adopted a look of wonder.

"Alright, let's continue on," I said, snapping her out of her reverie.

As we resumed our walk, we spotted a massive structure atop a mountain to the north.

"That is Bleak Falls Barrow, an ancient Nordic burial tomb. Once a place of worship for the dragon slavers. They buried themselves there to be close to their gods or whatever. Skyrim is littered with these tombs and other burial structures that weren't in service to the dragon masters," I explained.

"Looks foreboding," she remarked, eyeing the structure warily.

"People will likely tell you it's a cursed place. There is ancient magic afoot in there, protecting the dead and storing ancient knowledge of dragons and their magics. They're also often used as base camps for bandits and outlaws."

We continued walking for a while in comfortable silence, taking in the scenery along the road—the nearby waterfalls, lush greenery, and abundant wildlife.

"I've never seen a stone road before, outside of cities." Daenerys remarked, looking down

"Nords seldom use stone for houses, but they build long stone roads and far streaching stone walls," I replied.

"Wouldn't they want to use stone to better insulate against this cold?" she asked, shivering slightly and drawing attention to the chill in the air. Not that I could feel it; I felt warm in my gear.

"Nords are resistant to cold; they don't notice it unless there's a blizzard," I somewhat exaggerated. "Oh! I forgot." I noticed her simple sandals.

I took out some boots from the Captain I had defeated. Earlier, I had given her armour that would protect her from arrows, but now I realised she needed proper footwear. "Here, put these on."

She accepted them with a murmured thanks and paused to put them on.

Afterwards, we resumed walking, and I noted that it was starting to get dark. The world felt scaled up to something more realistic.

"I think we've left Falkreath and entered Whiterun territory now, which means we should look to set up camp for the night," I suggested.

"If you think it's best," she replied, nodding in agreement.

We moved into the woods, searching for a clearing between the road and the river. Suddenly, we heard a howl nearby, and I instantly drew my sword, scanning the area.

A wolf leaped out, followed by another, charging at me. I swung my sword at the head of one as it approached, cleaving my blade into its skull. I let out a pained yell as the other wolf clamped its teeth onto my sword arm. Panic surged through me, but I barely managed to call upon my flame spell with my left hand, unleashing a burst of fire that singed the wolf's face. It released me, and I made a clumsy lunge, stabbing it as it backed away.

I sighed through clenched teeth, scanning the area for any more threats. After a moment, I sheathed my sword.

"Are you alright?" Daenerys asked, concern etched on her face.

I summoned my healing spell and relieved myself of the pain in my arm. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about any more wolves in the area for now," she said, her voice steadying.

"There's a clearing up ahead," Daenerys noticed.

I followed her gaze and nodded. "This will do. Let's head to the river first."

We moved from the clearing to the river and washed ourselves off a bit. Daenerys bent down to drink some water.

"Don't drink that!" I warned her. She looked up at me, confused. Right, she's from a primitive land. "Dirty water; you're likely to get sick. You need to boil it first." I took out my large pot and dunked it under the water to fill it up. She nodded in acceptance, though still puzzled. I also wet a bit of cloth I had in my inventory.

We returned to the clearing with my heavy pot. I set it down and took out the two bedrolls, tossing them onto the ground. Daenerys moved some sticks aside and began setting up the rolls.

"Let's collect some sticks for a fire," I suggested, moving about to gather them and pile them near the bedrolls. I found a thick branch and took out my axe to chop it into segments. When I returned, Daenerys had a pile of dead leaves and placed some sticks on top. After moving over to place the thicker wood nearby. I then walked around, picking up some rocks. Moving back, I began building a wall around the firewood. And grabed some firewood and made a stand to put the cooking pot on. Once we were done, I nodded and threw a soft burst of fire at it, igniting the kindling. I then placed thicker logs on top of the sticks and set the pot onto stand.

As the pot began to heat up, I took out the mage robes and handed them to Daenerys. "These are mage robes and a novice hood, enchanted to enhance your magicka regeneration and provide a minor improvement in your overall magicka, if you'd like."

She nodded and accepted them before moving behind me to change.

"Drinking dirty water is one of the easiest ways to get sick," I said, trying to make conversation. "Intense heat is the best way to kill diseases, which is why boiling water before drinking is essential."

Daenerys approached in her new clothes and settled close to the fire to warm up, nodding in understanding. I took out metal cups, a plate, and cutlery, placing them in the pot of water to clean them.

"Can you tell me more about these lands?" she asked, her curiosity evident.

"Sure, it's probably best to start with the different races and then work from there," I replied, pausing to gather my thoughts.

Daenerys turned to me, her interest piqued.

"First, there are two main categories of races in Tamriel: Men and Mer. The differences among the human races are relatively minor by comparison. For instance, the distinctions between the First Men, Valyrians, and the Roynar might seem significant, but compared to the Children of the Forest and the Giants, they appear quite trivial," I explained, and she nodded in understanding.

"Starting with Men, there are four different races: Nords, of course, who are akin to the First Men of the North—resistant to the cold and formidable in battle; Imperials, who are similar to the people of the Reach; Redguards, who resemble the Dornish and Summer Islanders; and there's one more, but I'll move on to Mer first."

At Daenerys's nod, I continued, "There are four different races of Mer: first, the Altmer, or High Elves, sometimes referred to as the Thalmor. However, that's a dominant political faction; I wouldn't just call any Altmer a Thalmor, as some might take offense. They have pale golden skin, are tall and lanky, with light-colored hair and sharp facial features. Generally skilled in magic, they also live longer than humans—though I'm not sure by how much."

Daenerys's eyes widened as she absorbed this information, nodding for me to continue.

"Next are the Bosmer, or Wood Elves. They excel in nature magic, such as controlling animals. They have a darker complexion than the Altmer and are shorter in stature, making them excellent hunters and scouts with their light footfalls."

"Then there are the Dunmer, or Dark Elves. They have pale ashen skin, dark hair, and eyes, but otherwise resemble the other elves. They are resistant to fire and skilled in fire magic."

Daenerys took a keen interest in them. "Yes, they're somewhat like the Valyrians of Tamriel, without the dragons. Their volcano even erupted, leading to their own Doom of Valyria."

I checked in with Daenerys to ensure she was following along and didn't have any clarifying questions. Continuing, I said, "Next are the Orsimer, commonly referred to as Orcs. They are bulky in build, with green skin and tusked teeth. They primarily operate in clans around Tamriel and have no separate land of their own. They are a nomadic warrior race known for their exceptional smithing skills."

"Now, onto the Beastfolk. First, the Khajiit. They are humanoid," I explained, noting her puzzled expression at the term. "Humanoid refers to beings shaped like humans—standing on two legs, with two arms, and so forth." She nodded in understanding, and I continued, "The Khajiit are humanoid cat people."

"What?" Daenerys exclaimed, shocked.

"Yep. Fur all over, tails, claws, whiskers, and ears up here," I said, playfully mimicking cat ears at the top of my head. "The Khajiit are a stealthy sort, often blamed for theft and kept at a distance in Skyrim. We'll likely run into them at some point as they travel around Skyrim in camps."

"Okay, I guess," Daenerys replied, still processing this new information.

"Finally, there are the Argonians." I paused and looked at Daenerys, who was watching me expectantly. "There's no other way to say this: they're lizard people."

"You're kidding with me," she said incredulously.

I chuckled softly. "Nope. They have leathery scaled skin, tails, horns, and talons. They're excellent swimmers and often participate in the fishing industry here in Skyrim."

"Wow," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh, and the final race of men that I skipped are the Bretons. They're humans with an elven bloodline and have an aptitude for magic," I concluded my overview of the races of Tamriel. "There are other races one could argue about, but those I spoke of are the ones that are intelligent, culturally significant, and contribute to Tamriel society in some way."

Daenerys nodded slowly, taking this all in. I gave her a moment to process the information while I blasted some fire at the water to hurry it up to boiling point. Eventually, it boiled, and I let it heat for a moment longer before taking the wet cloth in my hands and moving the pot off the fire to cool down.

"Do you have any questions?" I asked her.

"I have uncountable questions," she replied, exasperated. "Starting with, how do you know me and Westeros and here? Where are we in relation to Westeros? Are we west of Westeros? What happened to me?" she rattled off, frustration evident in her voice.

"Ah," I said, trying to gather my thoughts. "When I said you were very far from home, I meant there's no way to get back without some divine-level magic, and even then…" I grimaced. She looked distraught and unable to believe it, so I added, "You're in a different world, Daenerys. Look." I pointed up at the night sky. "Doesn't that look foreign to you?"

I had never been an expert in astrology or able to spot constellations, but I could probably identify the Southern Cross and the North Star given enough time. Perhaps it was all those nights spent gazing at the stars, but even though I couldn't recall the night sky, I looked now and knew deep down that something was amiss. This night sky is foreign.

I glanced over at Daenerys and murmured, "You're from Planetos, Daenerys. This is Nirn. Those are different stars, a different sun, a different moon. A new earth."

She looked back at me with a lost expression. "And what of you? Where were you from, Ovhun?"

A dry chuckle escaped me. "I'm in a similar boat as you. Where I come from, both your world and this one are stories in books—fictions thought to be fake. A mummer's world of dreams."

The Mother of Dragons looked at me, struggling to grasp what I had said. "You know me from a book?"

"Aye, and a play. Imagine a book was written about you—or rather, in this case, a book about the situation and story that unfolded in your life, including you as an important player… I read that book."

She looked down at the ground and asked in a now vulnerable voice, unusual for her, "So you know all the things I've done?"

"Well, I'm not sure where you were in your journey. Did you come here when you died or earlier? I suppose it matters not; the answer is yes. I have a pretty accurate knowledge of your life," I responded, my voice calm.

"I died," Daenerys murmured.

I nodded. "By your nephew, right?"

"So you know what I've done, yet you helped me escape Helgen? You didn't leave me to die?" she questioned, though it sounded accusatory to my ears.

"Well, you don't have a dragon. And good luck convincing one here to be your glorified horse," I joked to lighten her up. However, it didn't land well; she flinched and looked away. I placed my hand on her shoulder. "Hey. We've both been dropped off here, so we're in this together."

"I die and wake up, only to be attacked by the fury of a dragon. Is this hell? Is this my punishment?"

"Nay, this is your chance at redemption," I said, causing Daenerys to snap her head toward me, prompting me to explain. "That wasn't some random dragon attack; that was by no means a random dragon. That was THE dragon."

The Mother of Dragons scrunched her face in confusion and asked, "What do you mean?"

"That was Alduin," I said gravely. "All dragons have names, and they have meaning. Alduin means Master, Destroyer, Death. Or something like that; I don't speak Dragon, but I know a few words. The point is, he represents the end times. When the gods created this world, Akatosh, the God of Time and father of dragons, created the means of Nirn's eventual demise, resulting in Alduin's birth. The problem is that Alduin believes he should fulfil his purpose now rather than later, and as a result, he is trying to bring about the end of the world—or return it to when he ruled with an iron fist and a world full of either worshippers or slaves. I don't know. As you can imagine, the intentions of gods and demigod dragons are hard to ascertain."

"And what? He started his quest to end the world by attacking Helgen while we happened to show up in Tamriel?" she asked incredulously.

"No, I'm saying he was there to stop us."

"Us? Why?"

"Because we were sent to stop him."

"How could we possibly do that? I saw his destruction; it's even more terrible than my dragons were."

"I don't think I should explain it now, as I am not entirely sure what role you will play, though I have a hunch. All will be revealed within the week or so if you follow my lead, I promise."

There was a lull in the conversation, and I took the time to bathe my hand in fire, gritting my teeth before instantly healing it. I'd actually kill for a bit of soap or disinfectant. I'm determined to not catch some disease, especially when I don't know how magic works with diseases. I then took the items out of the pot and handed a tankard of water to Daenerys. I took one for myself and filled up two waterskins I had found, adding them to my inventory. Then I proceeded to search through my inventory for the food I had pilfered to see what to make for dinner. Deciding on soup because of the cooked meat I already had, I started preparing it while Daenerys watched and contemplated. Soon, everything was cooking in the pot, and we waited.

"Ovhun?" Daenerys asked, sounding unsure.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what happened after? After my death?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then tell me, please."

I sighed. "After your death, Drogon shows up, sees you dead, and Jon standing there."

Daenerys's eyes widened, filled with a mix of conflicting emotions that were hard to decipher.

"Jon is initially terrified, but then steps forward to Drogon and waits." I paused for effect, trying to gauge Daenerys's reaction. I noticed her breathing deepen and moisture forming in her eyes, so I hurried to continue.

"Drogon turns to the Iron Throne and burns it to a puddle. He then picks up your body and flies away."

At this point, Daenerys sagged slightly, contemplating my words. I gave her some time to process this before I picked the story back up.

"Jon is imprisoned and, sometime later, is dragged before a grand council. The council consists of Sansa Stark representing the North, Yara Greyjoy from the Iron Islands, Robin Arryn from the Vale, Edmure Tully from the Riverlands, Bronn of the Blackwater representing the Reach, and finally Gendric Storm from the Stormlands. Additionally, Tyrion Lannister was brought in chains, along with Samwell Tarly, Arya and Bran Stark, Yhon Royce, Brienne of Tarth, Davos Seaworth, and several others whose names I don't know."

"Then to summarise: Bran Stark is elected King, and they plan to elect a new one every time the king dies; Jon is sentenced to the Night's Watch, even though it has no purpose and is a pointless institution now; Tyrion is 'sentenced' to be Bran's Hand of the King; Sam Tarly becomes Grand Maester; Brienne is made commander of the Kingsguard; the North is granted independence from the Seven Kingdoms despite having a Stark as king; Grey Worm takes the Unsullied to Narth; Arya Stark sails west of Westeros. That's all of it, I believe."

Daenerys sat there for a while, bewildered. "What a mess."

"Aye."

Wanting to divert my thoughts from that disastrous fire for a moment, I took out the book on lightning magic and cracked it open. I immediately felt something prod at my mind, much like the Standing Stone had. Thinking on it for a moment, I wondered if it was asking me if I wanted to learn the spell immediately, likely destroying the book in the process. Deciding against that, I ignored the probe and flicked through the pages. I gathered that magic is a relatively simple process, requiring imagination and focus on the spell's effect. There are also some training wheels for first-time use, such as hand gestures and incantations, to help build the habit of casting. It can take anywhere from one to four days to learn a basic spell like this, though the first one can sometimes be difficult. There's a lot of theory behind magic, especially Destruction Magic, that knowing apparently aids in spellcasting.

I closed the book and held it out to Daenerys, tapping her gently to snap her out of her brooding. "Here, a spell tome on the introductory spell, 'Sparks,' the lightning version of the 'Flame' spell you've seen me do."

She took it with a grateful nod and dove into its contents.

Eventually, the soup was done, and I served a bowlful for both of us, accompanied by some bread. We ate in amicable silence, occasionally exchanging thoughts on trivial matters.

After we finished eating, I asked, "So, do you want to sleep first or later when I wake you up?"

Daenerys thought for a moment. "I'll take first watch; I want to keep reading this," she said, gesturing to the book in her hand.

"Alright, I'll wake up in five hours."

I walked over to the bedroll, removed the Stormcloak blue cape—thinking I didn't want to be mistaken for a Stormcloak—and lay down. I focused on wanting to sleep for five hours and felt an inner pulse; it was lights out as I fell asleep instantly. I was grateful for that, as a thin bedroll on the ground and sleeping in chainmail offered little comfort.

The next thing I knew, I woke up to find it darker than before, with moonlight shining down. I instinctively knew exactly five hours had passed, and I felt surprisingly refreshed for such a short sleep.

I looked over and saw Daenerys by the fire, still reading the thin spell tome. She must have read it at least once by now. I got up and sat next to her. "How's the read? Think you can cast it anytime soon?" I asked.

"I'm thinking about giving it a try now," she responded after a greeting nod.

"Does it recommend supervised casting? Any dangers it warns of?"

"Just to avoid doing it in water, take off any metal for the first few attempts until you master it, and it recommends pointing at the ground, away from anyone."

"Then give it a try! I'll have healing and magicka potions ready if you need them, and then you can go to sleep," I suggested.

Daenerys nodded, got up, and moved to the side, pointing her hand at the ground. She looked over at me as I took a healing potion and a magicka potion in each hand. I gave her an encouraging nod as she prepared herself.

She then made a controlled hand gesture and said something in a language I didn't recognise.

A trace amount of lightning flickered around her hand and moved toward her palm before fizzling out.

"Nice, Daenerys! I didn't expect to see such success on the first go!" I congratulated her. She looked frustrated at first but smiled at my encouragement. "Do you need anything? Are you feeling well after that?"

"I'm fine, Ovhun. I think I felt some of my magicka drain for that, but it's building back up."

"Well, when you're back to full magicka, give it another go," I encouraged.

And she did just that, this time with a little more success, which I pointed out. Then she attempted again, but this time she messed up almost entirely.

"Your willpower and focus must have been off on that one because your gesture and incantation seemed the same to me," I advised.

She thought over her attempt and nodded. "I think so, too."

The budding mage gave it another go, and this time the results mirrored her first attempt.

"Well done. I'm not well-versed in magic, but that seemed like a good first attempt to me. You should get some sleep."

She yawned and nodded in acceptance before retiring to her bedroll.

As she slept, I looked up at the moon—or should I say moons—and prayed for the first time in who knows how long. I prayed to Akatosh and the other eight divines for guidance and for answers to my many questions about my arrival in Nirn and the journey ahead.

Not much could be said about my watch; I simply tended to the fire and thought. At one point, I considered attempting the 'Wait' function I likely had, similar to sleep, but decided against it. I had a lot to plan for our time in Riverwood and what to do afterwards. Should we explore Bleak Falls Barrow now or after Whiterun?

After some long, contemplative thought, the sun began to rise, greeting the morning as the birds chirped loudly, eventually waking Daenerys.

"Good morning to you, Daenerys," I greeted politely.

"Good morning, Ovhun," she replied sleepily.

I reheated the soup for breakfast, and after we finished, we packed up the camp and made our way back down the road to our destination. As we walked, the woods began to thin, and we spotted logs floating down the river as we neared Riverwood, our next step in this long journey.