Figgin rose before the sun had risen today. He ate breakfast at the Bee and Barb and then headed out to Windhelm.He took his usual carriage ride and found his way quickly to the Aretino residence. The boy was all too elated to hear the news of poor old Grelod's passing. The boy agreed to return to the orphanage in a little while. He held true to his word and gave Figgin the family Heirloom. It was a big silver plate that seemed valuable but Figgin decided to keep it. He left the house and decided to return to Riverwood.
Figgin knew that he needed to find a permanent residence in Skyrim. It seemed his exploits had lead him to what h was looking for, well almost. He was saddened by the fact that now since Grelod was dead and the boy no longer sought the dark brotherhood, he had no connection anymore to the elusive guild. He wandered Riverwood and pondered his next move. He knew he could not live here, but thought of Riften. His kind of town, the thieves guild was there and he remembered something about a house for sale there too. Whitrun was too human infested for him so his title of Thane there held no appeal to him. Riften it was. Tomorrow he would awake and travel to Riften to inquire about a house. He found a bed at The Sleeping Giant and laid down for the night.
Grogginess awoke as Figgin opened his eyes. He was no longer in The Sleeping Giant, no he was somewhere else. An aroma of swamp land engulfed him and the muffled sounds of voices behind him. He sat up on the bed to catch his bearings. Where was he. He could barely make out a shadowy form of a person sitting atop a bookcase looking down at him. He knew he was not in control here.
Her name was Astrid as she introduced herself. She spoke of the old women Grelod and how Figgin stole that contract. She further explained that she was the leader of The Dark Brotherhood and Figgin needed to repay the stolen contract by fulfilling one of the contracts behind him. Figgin turned to see three captives bound and kneeling with their heads covered with the hood of an executioner. It was simple, explained Astrid. talk to the three and find out which one was the contract, kill that one and you would be set free. Figgin knew that it was not that simple. He also did not let Astrid know how happy he really was to meet her and find the brotherhood. He was well aware that nobody but he and Astrid were walking out of this shack and the only way he was is if he killed one of these captives.
Figgin spoke to all three and in his mind, all three deserved to die. Figgin stepped back and ignited flames from both of his hands. He turned and smiled at Astrid before torching all three of the captives and leaving their charred bodies on the floor of the shack. He removed the hoods and gathered his gear. In a bluffing move headed for the door, as if to leave. Astrid stopped him and offered him a chance to continue his fine work and join the brotherhood. Figgin kept his cool and nonchalantly agreed to join, even though he was bursting at the seems to reignite his father's passion. Astrid told Figgin that the sanctuary was located in the southeastern part of Skyrim in the dense woods near Falkreath. She said if he could make it there, the family would welcome him.Figgin left the shack to find himself in the middle of a swamp in the middle of nowhere. It was late and Figgin headed toward the mountains to the north.
He reached the sea early in the morning and dispatched a few bandits who thought they may have been tougher than they really were. He came to the shore and found an abandoned Nordic ship and after carefully searching the ship, and finding nothing living there, he slept in the hull for the night. he was exhausted and cold but very happy to have found what he was looking for. Riften and his house hunting expedition would have to wait a little longer.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
A Thief's Stage
The salty sea air of Riften woke Figgin with a smile. He really liked it here in Riften. It reminded him of his brief life in Anvil with his mom and dad, before the tragedies that were bestowed upon him at the young age of five. He descended down to the courtyard below to meet up with Brynolf. The plan was simple, yet Figgin still did not understand the complete motive behind it. Figgin was to pick the lock on Madesai's lock box under his merchant stand in the yard and steal his silver ring. Brynolf would provide a distraction as cover. Then Figgin would then plant the ring in the pocket of Brand Shai, the dark elf merchant. Figgin could not understand why Brynolf wanted Brand Shai to take the rap and go to jail but money is money to Figgin so questions sometimes take a backseat. Figgin could only rationalize it that Brand Shai must be the only real competitor to Brynolf in this town and what better way to eliminate your competition then to have them locked up.
Brynolf started his show and as the enormous Nord started to project his voice, all the people, including the guards started to gather. This seemed too easy and Figgin slipped behind everyone and found the lock box. The lock was simple enough to pick and Figgin helped himself to more than just the ring. No one saw him, and how could they? They were all watching enthralled by Brynolf and his Snow Elves potion and stories. Figgin listened and wondered to himself if these elves did in fact exist at one point. Never the less, Figgin slowly crept his way to Brand Shai and sat down next to him. As Brynolf neared the climax of his story and everyone jumped up in excitement, Figgin dropped the ring inside Brand Shai's right pants pocket and deftly made his way back to the middle of the courtyard. No one was the wiser as to what just transpired in the last five minutes. Brynolf concluded his speech and everyone returned back to their normal routine, save for Madesai who noticed his opened lock box and missing items. Oddly, the fingers pointed to Brand Shai with no hesitation. Figgin was sure he would be at least investigated being the newest vagrant to wander into Riften. It all seemed too well put together as the guards converged on Brand Shai and whisked him off to the Riften Keep. Figgin sat back and admired his work though and he remembered something his mother always said to him:
"Figgin, the only problem with being a thief is, if you are good at it, nobody ever sees
how good you really are. You see a Thief's stage is set and only seen by the thief
himself. It's a lonely stage filled with the silent applause only you can hear."
She was right. "I miss you mom" Figgin whispered. Just then he was interrupted as the sun disappeared from the Skyrim Sky. Brynolf stood over him and bear hugged him to the point Figgin felt his own bones cracking under the giant's crushing biceps. Brynolf put Figgin down and congratulated him on a job well done. He asked Figgin if he was interested in some more work? Figgin eagerly accepted as once again, money is money to Figgin. He told Figgin to meet him at the Ragged Flaggon inside the Ratway and good luck getting there. When Figgin pressed Brynolf as to where in Oblivion is the Ratway? Brynolf responded. "It's right under your feet lad."
Figgin found the Ratway rather easily, thanks to the clever hint from Brynolf. "Good luck getting there" rung in his ears. These are sewers, and Figgin knew sewers. That being said, these weren't the sewers of Cyrodiil he once ran freely in. Ten steps into the Ratway proved this to be the case. Two armed men drew weapons and attacked Figgin unprovoked. An arrow pierced his left arm and sent him reeling back behind a barrel. Dazed and confused, Figgin heard the men approaching and swords being unsheathed. He conjured up his flame spell and lept to his feet and showered the entire tunnel with a blaze that rivaled the dragon he had killed outside of Whiterun. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the two men dropped to their knees and then face first, a charcoal black so burnt Figgin never knew what race the men were. Now they were blackened skeletons smoldering with the stench of burnt flesh. Figgin drew his sword and moved on. He would be more careful going forward. He would use the shadows to conceal his movements and stay out of sight.
Figgin rounded the corner and saw a man sharpening an axe on a table. He snuck up and swiftly slit the man's throat, hoping he wasn't with Brynolf but after that warm Ratway greeting from the charcoal twims back there, he could not afford to take any chances. The women in the adjacnt room suffered a similar fate as Figgin found himself outside the Ragged Flaggon. He entered the Flaggon and found Brynolf drinking a pint at the bar. Brynolf seemed impressed and told Figgin he would have no problems coming down here anymore. He introduced him to a few of his "colleagues" as he called them and offered him another job. Figgin felt an odd nostalgic feel form the Flaggon, like he had been here before. Brynolf sat him down and explained it all to him. This was the Thieves Guild. Figgin was home finally. I made it mom. Ran though his head and he wanted to jump for joy, cry in despair and rattle his whole story to Brynolf all at the same time. Fifteen years was a long time to wait for this moment. He had to compose himself and not play that card just yet. Brynolf had asked Figgin to pay a visit to some people who owed the guild some money and were reluctant to pay up. Seeing that it was late now and once again, too late to travel back to Windhelm, he would stay another night and oblige Brynolf.
The three targets were Keerava, the bartender at the Bee and Barb, Bersi the owner of the Pawned Prawn and Haelga who own the Bunkhouse in town. The job was simple. Collect the payments from all three and bring it back to Brynolf. The only rule was to not kill any of them. "We are not the Dark Brotherhood after all." Brynolf snickered. This normally would have sent Figgin into a frenzy and led to Brynolf losing an ear or maybe his life, but given the recent turn of events, Figgin decided to let this one slide.
He decided to go to the Bee and Barb first. He walked in and tried to sweet talk Keerava and ask her for the money he owed her. Her lizard tongue almost lashed his retina as she cursed him for asking. She told him how the guild has fallen on hard times and why should she pay? They cannot even protect themselves anymore. They are washed up. Figgin quickly realized he needed some leverage and remembered the conversation from yesterday about her family and the farm in Morrowind. It didn't take Keerava long to change her tune once Figgin threatened to expose them to his friends back home. She quickly paid up and offered Figgin a night's stay on the house tonight, same room on the left. Figgin agreed and extended the offer to include last night's stay as well.
Feeling overly confident, he strolled into the Pawned Prawn expecting Bersi to roll over like the meek skeever he looked like. Once again Figgin was mistaken. Bersi, scoffed at Figgin and told him to leave at once. This is growing old Figgin thought. He grabbed a nearby mace and started smashing the items in Bersi's store. Bersi called for the guards until Figgin smashed a Dwarven vase on the table by the window. Bersi's bravado left him as he pleaded with Figgin to stop and paid him the amount owed to Brynolf and said he would pay from now on.
Figgin had one more stop to make and this time, he figured to go in swinging. He entered the bunkhouse and went right into threat mode. This time, Figgin was pleasantly mistaken as word had gotten around about Figgin and his collecting methods and Haelga paid up without a fight. Figgin returned to the Flaggon and gave the money to Brynolf. Brynolf welcomed Figgin to the guild and introduced him to Vex, Tonila, Delvin and Mercer Fry. They gave Figgin armor and a new job to do. Goldenglow Estates. Brynolf would fill Figgin in later after he got back. Figgin explained that he had to travel back to Windhelm to tie up some loose ends and would return to complete the Goldenglow job. More importantly, he met Tonila and now had a fence to unload the things he "found" in Skyrim, plus he was a part of a family again. Something he lacked for fifteen years.
Figgin went back to the Bee and Barb and enjoyed his free stay and slept soundly for the first time in days. Tomorrow he would go see the boy in Windhelm and tell him of Grelod's last breath in this world.
Brynolf started his show and as the enormous Nord started to project his voice, all the people, including the guards started to gather. This seemed too easy and Figgin slipped behind everyone and found the lock box. The lock was simple enough to pick and Figgin helped himself to more than just the ring. No one saw him, and how could they? They were all watching enthralled by Brynolf and his Snow Elves potion and stories. Figgin listened and wondered to himself if these elves did in fact exist at one point. Never the less, Figgin slowly crept his way to Brand Shai and sat down next to him. As Brynolf neared the climax of his story and everyone jumped up in excitement, Figgin dropped the ring inside Brand Shai's right pants pocket and deftly made his way back to the middle of the courtyard. No one was the wiser as to what just transpired in the last five minutes. Brynolf concluded his speech and everyone returned back to their normal routine, save for Madesai who noticed his opened lock box and missing items. Oddly, the fingers pointed to Brand Shai with no hesitation. Figgin was sure he would be at least investigated being the newest vagrant to wander into Riften. It all seemed too well put together as the guards converged on Brand Shai and whisked him off to the Riften Keep. Figgin sat back and admired his work though and he remembered something his mother always said to him:
"Figgin, the only problem with being a thief is, if you are good at it, nobody ever sees
how good you really are. You see a Thief's stage is set and only seen by the thief
himself. It's a lonely stage filled with the silent applause only you can hear."
She was right. "I miss you mom" Figgin whispered. Just then he was interrupted as the sun disappeared from the Skyrim Sky. Brynolf stood over him and bear hugged him to the point Figgin felt his own bones cracking under the giant's crushing biceps. Brynolf put Figgin down and congratulated him on a job well done. He asked Figgin if he was interested in some more work? Figgin eagerly accepted as once again, money is money to Figgin. He told Figgin to meet him at the Ragged Flaggon inside the Ratway and good luck getting there. When Figgin pressed Brynolf as to where in Oblivion is the Ratway? Brynolf responded. "It's right under your feet lad."
Figgin found the Ratway rather easily, thanks to the clever hint from Brynolf. "Good luck getting there" rung in his ears. These are sewers, and Figgin knew sewers. That being said, these weren't the sewers of Cyrodiil he once ran freely in. Ten steps into the Ratway proved this to be the case. Two armed men drew weapons and attacked Figgin unprovoked. An arrow pierced his left arm and sent him reeling back behind a barrel. Dazed and confused, Figgin heard the men approaching and swords being unsheathed. He conjured up his flame spell and lept to his feet and showered the entire tunnel with a blaze that rivaled the dragon he had killed outside of Whiterun. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the two men dropped to their knees and then face first, a charcoal black so burnt Figgin never knew what race the men were. Now they were blackened skeletons smoldering with the stench of burnt flesh. Figgin drew his sword and moved on. He would be more careful going forward. He would use the shadows to conceal his movements and stay out of sight.
Figgin rounded the corner and saw a man sharpening an axe on a table. He snuck up and swiftly slit the man's throat, hoping he wasn't with Brynolf but after that warm Ratway greeting from the charcoal twims back there, he could not afford to take any chances. The women in the adjacnt room suffered a similar fate as Figgin found himself outside the Ragged Flaggon. He entered the Flaggon and found Brynolf drinking a pint at the bar. Brynolf seemed impressed and told Figgin he would have no problems coming down here anymore. He introduced him to a few of his "colleagues" as he called them and offered him another job. Figgin felt an odd nostalgic feel form the Flaggon, like he had been here before. Brynolf sat him down and explained it all to him. This was the Thieves Guild. Figgin was home finally. I made it mom. Ran though his head and he wanted to jump for joy, cry in despair and rattle his whole story to Brynolf all at the same time. Fifteen years was a long time to wait for this moment. He had to compose himself and not play that card just yet. Brynolf had asked Figgin to pay a visit to some people who owed the guild some money and were reluctant to pay up. Seeing that it was late now and once again, too late to travel back to Windhelm, he would stay another night and oblige Brynolf.
The three targets were Keerava, the bartender at the Bee and Barb, Bersi the owner of the Pawned Prawn and Haelga who own the Bunkhouse in town. The job was simple. Collect the payments from all three and bring it back to Brynolf. The only rule was to not kill any of them. "We are not the Dark Brotherhood after all." Brynolf snickered. This normally would have sent Figgin into a frenzy and led to Brynolf losing an ear or maybe his life, but given the recent turn of events, Figgin decided to let this one slide.
He decided to go to the Bee and Barb first. He walked in and tried to sweet talk Keerava and ask her for the money he owed her. Her lizard tongue almost lashed his retina as she cursed him for asking. She told him how the guild has fallen on hard times and why should she pay? They cannot even protect themselves anymore. They are washed up. Figgin quickly realized he needed some leverage and remembered the conversation from yesterday about her family and the farm in Morrowind. It didn't take Keerava long to change her tune once Figgin threatened to expose them to his friends back home. She quickly paid up and offered Figgin a night's stay on the house tonight, same room on the left. Figgin agreed and extended the offer to include last night's stay as well.
Feeling overly confident, he strolled into the Pawned Prawn expecting Bersi to roll over like the meek skeever he looked like. Once again Figgin was mistaken. Bersi, scoffed at Figgin and told him to leave at once. This is growing old Figgin thought. He grabbed a nearby mace and started smashing the items in Bersi's store. Bersi called for the guards until Figgin smashed a Dwarven vase on the table by the window. Bersi's bravado left him as he pleaded with Figgin to stop and paid him the amount owed to Brynolf and said he would pay from now on.
Figgin had one more stop to make and this time, he figured to go in swinging. He entered the bunkhouse and went right into threat mode. This time, Figgin was pleasantly mistaken as word had gotten around about Figgin and his collecting methods and Haelga paid up without a fight. Figgin returned to the Flaggon and gave the money to Brynolf. Brynolf welcomed Figgin to the guild and introduced him to Vex, Tonila, Delvin and Mercer Fry. They gave Figgin armor and a new job to do. Goldenglow Estates. Brynolf would fill Figgin in later after he got back. Figgin explained that he had to travel back to Windhelm to tie up some loose ends and would return to complete the Goldenglow job. More importantly, he met Tonila and now had a fence to unload the things he "found" in Skyrim, plus he was a part of a family again. Something he lacked for fifteen years.
Figgin went back to the Bee and Barb and enjoyed his free stay and slept soundly for the first time in days. Tomorrow he would go see the boy in Windhelm and tell him of Grelod's last breath in this world.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Riften, Home Sweet Home, Maybe
Figgin barely got both feet on the ground when the dragon attacked the city of Riften. This dragon was different from the one in Helgen and Whiterun. This one breathed burst of frost instead of fire. Figgin, being a Dunmer, was not affected by fire, but frost that was a different story. Figgin would keep his distance and fired his bow repeatedly into the dragon's underbelly careful to avoid entering the line of sight of the dragon. Once again the beast would succumb to the plethora of arrows and once again the dragon's soul would be absorbed by Figgin. The pain was just as unbearable as what he had experienced in Whiterun. The pain only dulled by the awesome feeling of power that consumed him afterwards.
Figgin turned and tried to enter the city, when he was stopped by one of the guards who in turn tried to force a "tax" for entering Riften upon Figgin. Figgin laughed at the guard and threatened to expose his little shakedown if passage was not granted. The guard's demeanor quickly changed as he attempted to hush Figgin and hurried him through the city gates. Figgin walked into Riften with a wry smile and instantly fell in love with the city and it's ambiance.
Riften was a dock city with not much to offer in terms of cleanliness. It was riddle with homeless people and vagabonds. Many people roamed the streets, even at this late hour. This meant one of two things, thieves or skooma dealers. Figgin knew he could unload the 6 vials of skooma here once he found the right person to deal with. He was not even 10 feet inside the city gate when a big burly Nord tough guy approached him and started his "I'm the Big Bad Ass Around Here " routine. Figgin did not back down from the man name Maul, nice name, fitting for a man closer to an ogre than human. He told Figgin of the Black Briars and how they ran Riften and had the backing of the Thieves Guild. "What? Did he just say what I think he said? " Figgin posed the question to himself as if he were watching from a third person view. Could this be a two for one shot here? Find the Thieves Guild and the Brotherhood in the same city. This could not have been scripted any better, Figgin thought. He had to play it cool though, can't be too anxious, let them come to you he said, again to his third person self.
Figgin dismissed Maul and moved on to the other reason he had come to Riften. He found the orphanage in the back Southeast corner of the city. Figures, the door was unlocked. Nobody cares for the orphaned, at least nobody cared for him. The place was nice though inside and felt very warm and inviting. Figgin could not help but feel a little jealousy coarse through his veins, beats the sewers of Cyrodiil. He began to think of the boy he met in Windhelm and started to think he was just a spoiled brat that didn't realize what he had or worse what he could be living in. He would surely turn around if not for this being his only lead to the brotherhood he had. Just then, he heard the monster the boy spoke of. Grelod was chastising the boys and girls in a way that made Figgin's blood boil. Something about cleaning up and then the kicker,
"No more talk of adoptions. Nobody wants you and nobody is coming for you." Shrieked Grelod.
The look on those kids faces was a feeling only Figgin could relate to. Now, even if Aeretino had not hired him to kill this old miserable hag, he would have done it out of pure hate and disgust now. He waited and watched from the shadows as Grelod slipped into a small room off the main hall. She was alone. Figgin dosed his sword with some frostbite venom he extracted from the Frostbite Spider the other night. This slow poison would sure put an end to that haggard old women. He stepped inside the small room and shut the door. He stared at Grelod and it took everything he had not to lunge at her and strangle the life out of her. He wanted nothing more than to watch the life leave her miserable eyes, but he had little time here. Too many witnesses out side. He had to do quickly and quietly. Grelod saw him walk in and asked him coyly, what he was doing in here. Without a word and not any hint of movement, Figgin unsheathed his sword, dripping with the venom and plunged it into Grelod's throat so she could not scream. a quick twist and turn and Figgin withdrew the blade with almost the same swiftness. He was out the front door before Grelod's lifeless sack of a body hit the floor of the orphanage.
Nobody saw Figgin enter or leave the orphanage. He walked calmly to the back of the building and changed his clothes. It was too late to head back to Windhelm now. The deed was done. He could collect his payment and possibly continue the trail to the brotherhood in the morning. He needed to get some sleep. He made his way to the Bee and Barb for a room and something to eat.
The Bee and Barb was surprisingly clean and seemed friendlier than the atmosphere outside. Figgin rented a room from the bartender, an Argonian woman who he had to interrupt her from a conversation about her family she brought to a farm in Morrowind to go into hiding from Black Marsh. She showed Figgin to his room and said she would get some food prepared for him and to come down when he was ready.
As he reached the bottom step a very charismatic Nord named Brynolf approached him. Starting asking Figgin where he came to find all the coin he was carrying. Figgin warned him to mind his own business. The Nord laughed and said he wanted to hire FIggin for a job and he was not interested in robbing him. The two men sat and ate together and Brynolf laid old his elaborate plan that would commence in the morning. Since there was pay involved and Figgin had no real deadline to return to Windhelm, Grelod was not going anywhere anytime soon, he figured, why not plus, maybe this would get him closer to the guild as well. The finished eating and Figgin retired to his room for the night.
Figgin turned and tried to enter the city, when he was stopped by one of the guards who in turn tried to force a "tax" for entering Riften upon Figgin. Figgin laughed at the guard and threatened to expose his little shakedown if passage was not granted. The guard's demeanor quickly changed as he attempted to hush Figgin and hurried him through the city gates. Figgin walked into Riften with a wry smile and instantly fell in love with the city and it's ambiance.
Riften was a dock city with not much to offer in terms of cleanliness. It was riddle with homeless people and vagabonds. Many people roamed the streets, even at this late hour. This meant one of two things, thieves or skooma dealers. Figgin knew he could unload the 6 vials of skooma here once he found the right person to deal with. He was not even 10 feet inside the city gate when a big burly Nord tough guy approached him and started his "I'm the Big Bad Ass Around Here " routine. Figgin did not back down from the man name Maul, nice name, fitting for a man closer to an ogre than human. He told Figgin of the Black Briars and how they ran Riften and had the backing of the Thieves Guild. "What? Did he just say what I think he said? " Figgin posed the question to himself as if he were watching from a third person view. Could this be a two for one shot here? Find the Thieves Guild and the Brotherhood in the same city. This could not have been scripted any better, Figgin thought. He had to play it cool though, can't be too anxious, let them come to you he said, again to his third person self.
Figgin dismissed Maul and moved on to the other reason he had come to Riften. He found the orphanage in the back Southeast corner of the city. Figures, the door was unlocked. Nobody cares for the orphaned, at least nobody cared for him. The place was nice though inside and felt very warm and inviting. Figgin could not help but feel a little jealousy coarse through his veins, beats the sewers of Cyrodiil. He began to think of the boy he met in Windhelm and started to think he was just a spoiled brat that didn't realize what he had or worse what he could be living in. He would surely turn around if not for this being his only lead to the brotherhood he had. Just then, he heard the monster the boy spoke of. Grelod was chastising the boys and girls in a way that made Figgin's blood boil. Something about cleaning up and then the kicker,
"No more talk of adoptions. Nobody wants you and nobody is coming for you." Shrieked Grelod.
The look on those kids faces was a feeling only Figgin could relate to. Now, even if Aeretino had not hired him to kill this old miserable hag, he would have done it out of pure hate and disgust now. He waited and watched from the shadows as Grelod slipped into a small room off the main hall. She was alone. Figgin dosed his sword with some frostbite venom he extracted from the Frostbite Spider the other night. This slow poison would sure put an end to that haggard old women. He stepped inside the small room and shut the door. He stared at Grelod and it took everything he had not to lunge at her and strangle the life out of her. He wanted nothing more than to watch the life leave her miserable eyes, but he had little time here. Too many witnesses out side. He had to do quickly and quietly. Grelod saw him walk in and asked him coyly, what he was doing in here. Without a word and not any hint of movement, Figgin unsheathed his sword, dripping with the venom and plunged it into Grelod's throat so she could not scream. a quick twist and turn and Figgin withdrew the blade with almost the same swiftness. He was out the front door before Grelod's lifeless sack of a body hit the floor of the orphanage.
Nobody saw Figgin enter or leave the orphanage. He walked calmly to the back of the building and changed his clothes. It was too late to head back to Windhelm now. The deed was done. He could collect his payment and possibly continue the trail to the brotherhood in the morning. He needed to get some sleep. He made his way to the Bee and Barb for a room and something to eat.
The Bee and Barb was surprisingly clean and seemed friendlier than the atmosphere outside. Figgin rented a room from the bartender, an Argonian woman who he had to interrupt her from a conversation about her family she brought to a farm in Morrowind to go into hiding from Black Marsh. She showed Figgin to his room and said she would get some food prepared for him and to come down when he was ready.
As he reached the bottom step a very charismatic Nord named Brynolf approached him. Starting asking Figgin where he came to find all the coin he was carrying. Figgin warned him to mind his own business. The Nord laughed and said he wanted to hire FIggin for a job and he was not interested in robbing him. The two men sat and ate together and Brynolf laid old his elaborate plan that would commence in the morning. Since there was pay involved and Figgin had no real deadline to return to Windhelm, Grelod was not going anywhere anytime soon, he figured, why not plus, maybe this would get him closer to the guild as well. The finished eating and Figgin retired to his room for the night.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Windhelm
Figgin was careful to wake early enough and leave the cottage before any workers would arrive, so not to be accused of trespassing. He ate as he traveled the road continuing towards Windhelm. The sun wa out and the breeze was gentle on his back. The climb to Windhelm would be treacherous and long as it sat on top of the overshadowing mountains to the northeast. As he rounded the bend he heard a growl that he did not recognize. No animal he had ever known of made a sound like this. He drew his bow ready to face a snarling wolf or skeever, but what jumped out at him was neither, rather a a beast that, even though Figgin had killed a mythical Dragon, made him quiver and recoil in fear. The fangs of the Sabre Cat were bigger than Figgin's arm and the cat towered over the elf, making Figgin for once realize that he was an elf after all. Figgin retreated firing arrow after arrow into the beast's face. It finally fell at the feet of Figgin and just in time, as Figgin's next back peddle would have had him falling off the mountainside road into the ravine below.
Figgin finally reached Windhelm at 9:36 that night and by now had regretted not taking that carriage ride from Whiterun. He gave a beggar some coin and asked where the Aretino residence was. The beggar pointed to the northwest corner of the city and Figgin was off. He picked the lock and ascended to the top floor. The house was in complete disarray and the smell of burning candles with repetitive chanting could be smelled and heard from the moment he set foot in the place. He found the boy in a back room with the bones of a dead person surrounded by candles. Figgin interrupted the chanting and the boy was so delighted to see Figgin, why he had no clue. Then the boy explained that he was performing the Black Sacrament and thought Figgin was with the Dark Brotherhood. This was perfect, Figgin had to act like he wa sin order to get closer to the brotherhood. So he told the boy he was an agent of the brotherhood and asked what he could do to help. The boy told him he was an orphan and resided at the Orphanage in Riften, his parents had died and he was all alone. Figgin instantly connected with the boy and would have helped him even if there was no ulterior motives for himself. The boy told of the women running the orphanage, Grelod, and how wicked and mean she was. He wanted her dead and wanted Figgin to do the dastardly deed. Figgin was all too happy to oblige and figured while he was at it, asked for some type of payment. The boy said he had a family heirloom that was worth some money and he could have it upon the death of that mean old hag Grelod. Figgin agreed and left Windhelm for Riften. It was too late to walk there but too early to turn in so not to repeat his mistake from the day before, he took up a carriage ride and landed in Riften at 12:47 am.
Figgin finally reached Windhelm at 9:36 that night and by now had regretted not taking that carriage ride from Whiterun. He gave a beggar some coin and asked where the Aretino residence was. The beggar pointed to the northwest corner of the city and Figgin was off. He picked the lock and ascended to the top floor. The house was in complete disarray and the smell of burning candles with repetitive chanting could be smelled and heard from the moment he set foot in the place. He found the boy in a back room with the bones of a dead person surrounded by candles. Figgin interrupted the chanting and the boy was so delighted to see Figgin, why he had no clue. Then the boy explained that he was performing the Black Sacrament and thought Figgin was with the Dark Brotherhood. This was perfect, Figgin had to act like he wa sin order to get closer to the brotherhood. So he told the boy he was an agent of the brotherhood and asked what he could do to help. The boy told him he was an orphan and resided at the Orphanage in Riften, his parents had died and he was all alone. Figgin instantly connected with the boy and would have helped him even if there was no ulterior motives for himself. The boy told of the women running the orphanage, Grelod, and how wicked and mean she was. He wanted her dead and wanted Figgin to do the dastardly deed. Figgin was all too happy to oblige and figured while he was at it, asked for some type of payment. The boy said he had a family heirloom that was worth some money and he could have it upon the death of that mean old hag Grelod. Figgin agreed and left Windhelm for Riften. It was too late to walk there but too early to turn in so not to repeat his mistake from the day before, he took up a carriage ride and landed in Riften at 12:47 am.
The Beginning of the End
Turdas 8:36 am
The morning dawned and for the first time, Figgin was up before his Bosmer friend. Faendal knew something was different. Figgin knew what he had to do. He knew he could not ask Faendal to continue with him. He was about to embark on journey that would forver change his life. Two day ago, while in The Sleeping Giant, the bartender had mentioned something about a boy in Windhelm that was performing The Black Sacrament in order to attract The Dark Brotherhood. Figgin had only read of this ritual and heard his father talk about it. It was more of an urban myth than anything else in his mind. However, this was the only lead he had on finding the ever dwindleing Brotherhood and if he had any chance of bringing it to its past glory, he better not delay. The extinction of the Brotherhood loomed on the horizon, better yet, the coast of the Sea of Ghosts. Faendal, being a good soul, was not the type of person to bring along, plus Figgin would rather be alone, at least for his next move.
Figgin told Faendal that it was time to part ways but he would like to, possibly, meet again someday and partner up again. The two elves parted ways and Figgin left Riverwood, this time alone. He may have gotten 2 miles outside the city when he saw an Orc women standing on the side of the road. He recognized her dirty clothes and ashen cracked skin. A Skooma addict or dealer one of the two. Either way Figgin thought to himself, time to make some money here. He crept around the side of a giant boulder and drew his arrow tight. He took aim at her enourous ugly head and let the arrow fly. It struck the Orc in the back of the head and her brains splattered amongst the lavender plant on the side of the road. She never heard or felt a thing. Figgin looted her body and found 6 bottles of skooma on her. As he thought, a dealer. Now skooma was the drug of choice in all of Tamriel and he knew he could make some spetims if he were to sell it. He never touched the stuff himself. Should he wait fr whoever was coming to pick this up or sell it in Windhelm? Too many delays already so he would choose the latter. He carried the orc's body to the wood area just beyond the road and left her there. He sprinkled some skooma on her so nobody would think twice to investigate a an addict's murder, just chalk it up to another victim of the skooma epidemic.
The weather was nice so Figgin decided to opt out of the carriage ride he thought of last night and pursued Windhelm on foot. Figgin was attacked by a bandit, Skyrim is chock full of bandits, guarding a nearby cave entrance. Figgin plunged arrow after arrow into this Nord's body until it ceased to even twitch. What was in that cave that this idiot felt the need to attack me, raced through Figgin's head. Not checking it out was now, not an option. Figgin silently moved throught the cave as if he was an extension of the shadows. With pinpoint presicion, he snipered bandit after bandit until he came to the top entrance that overlooked Whiterun. What an amazing site from up here, it made Figgin almost not hate the new land he found himself in, almost. With not much of anythingin the cave, Figgin only wasted some time and delayed his route to Windhelm. He ate in the cave and resumed his trek.
It was getting very late and dark and Figgin was too far from Windhelm to continue tonight. He needed a place to crash for the night but where. He had left the Overlook cave 3 hours ago and now was on the road and alone. He looked across the river for a cave or a place there but what he found was neither of the two. He found an abandoned prison but figured that waht lay beyond the iron doors was not about to invite him to come in for some drink and food. He decided to move on but would mark this place on his map to visit when he had the time. Just as he turned back to cross the river, he felt a cold stingin his back that sent he reeling into the cold black water. His vision was blurred and all he heard was the rushing water of the waterfall ahead. He regained his footing and grabbed a dangling tree branch, again that cold sensation hit him in the leg, this time it burned his skin. He looked up to see a frost spider, damn, he hated these things. quickly Figgin, conjured up his flame spell and fired a blast of fire at the spider hitting him in the eyes. He then propelled himself to the bank of the river and drew his bow. He fired multiple arrows at the beast quickly bring him to a lifeless mass of legs and green blood. Figgin presse on and came to an old mill that looked a bit overun. Figgin was exhausted from the days events and decided he could find shelter here. He knocked on the servents door but no answer, he turned the knob and to his suprise, it was unlocked and empty. He decided to sleep there the night. What was the worst that could happen?
The morning dawned and for the first time, Figgin was up before his Bosmer friend. Faendal knew something was different. Figgin knew what he had to do. He knew he could not ask Faendal to continue with him. He was about to embark on journey that would forver change his life. Two day ago, while in The Sleeping Giant, the bartender had mentioned something about a boy in Windhelm that was performing The Black Sacrament in order to attract The Dark Brotherhood. Figgin had only read of this ritual and heard his father talk about it. It was more of an urban myth than anything else in his mind. However, this was the only lead he had on finding the ever dwindleing Brotherhood and if he had any chance of bringing it to its past glory, he better not delay. The extinction of the Brotherhood loomed on the horizon, better yet, the coast of the Sea of Ghosts. Faendal, being a good soul, was not the type of person to bring along, plus Figgin would rather be alone, at least for his next move.
Figgin told Faendal that it was time to part ways but he would like to, possibly, meet again someday and partner up again. The two elves parted ways and Figgin left Riverwood, this time alone. He may have gotten 2 miles outside the city when he saw an Orc women standing on the side of the road. He recognized her dirty clothes and ashen cracked skin. A Skooma addict or dealer one of the two. Either way Figgin thought to himself, time to make some money here. He crept around the side of a giant boulder and drew his arrow tight. He took aim at her enourous ugly head and let the arrow fly. It struck the Orc in the back of the head and her brains splattered amongst the lavender plant on the side of the road. She never heard or felt a thing. Figgin looted her body and found 6 bottles of skooma on her. As he thought, a dealer. Now skooma was the drug of choice in all of Tamriel and he knew he could make some spetims if he were to sell it. He never touched the stuff himself. Should he wait fr whoever was coming to pick this up or sell it in Windhelm? Too many delays already so he would choose the latter. He carried the orc's body to the wood area just beyond the road and left her there. He sprinkled some skooma on her so nobody would think twice to investigate a an addict's murder, just chalk it up to another victim of the skooma epidemic.
The weather was nice so Figgin decided to opt out of the carriage ride he thought of last night and pursued Windhelm on foot. Figgin was attacked by a bandit, Skyrim is chock full of bandits, guarding a nearby cave entrance. Figgin plunged arrow after arrow into this Nord's body until it ceased to even twitch. What was in that cave that this idiot felt the need to attack me, raced through Figgin's head. Not checking it out was now, not an option. Figgin silently moved throught the cave as if he was an extension of the shadows. With pinpoint presicion, he snipered bandit after bandit until he came to the top entrance that overlooked Whiterun. What an amazing site from up here, it made Figgin almost not hate the new land he found himself in, almost. With not much of anythingin the cave, Figgin only wasted some time and delayed his route to Windhelm. He ate in the cave and resumed his trek.
It was getting very late and dark and Figgin was too far from Windhelm to continue tonight. He needed a place to crash for the night but where. He had left the Overlook cave 3 hours ago and now was on the road and alone. He looked across the river for a cave or a place there but what he found was neither of the two. He found an abandoned prison but figured that waht lay beyond the iron doors was not about to invite him to come in for some drink and food. He decided to move on but would mark this place on his map to visit when he had the time. Just as he turned back to cross the river, he felt a cold stingin his back that sent he reeling into the cold black water. His vision was blurred and all he heard was the rushing water of the waterfall ahead. He regained his footing and grabbed a dangling tree branch, again that cold sensation hit him in the leg, this time it burned his skin. He looked up to see a frost spider, damn, he hated these things. quickly Figgin, conjured up his flame spell and fired a blast of fire at the spider hitting him in the eyes. He then propelled himself to the bank of the river and drew his bow. He fired multiple arrows at the beast quickly bring him to a lifeless mass of legs and green blood. Figgin presse on and came to an old mill that looked a bit overun. Figgin was exhausted from the days events and decided he could find shelter here. He knocked on the servents door but no answer, he turned the knob and to his suprise, it was unlocked and empty. He decided to sleep there the night. What was the worst that could happen?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Valtheim Keep
Middas 9:18 am
Morning came way too quickly for Figgin. He knew Faendal would be up and ready to go. Damn spitefully Bosmer. Actually, he has become quite fond of his new Bosmer friend. Weird, Figgin had no friends minus Clavius in 15 years. They continued their archery training until there was nothing else Faednal could teach Figgin. They ate breakfast and perused the outdoor shops in Whiterun. Figgin spoke to Fralia Grey-Mane and she seemed very paranoid and was rambling about her son and that he was taken by someone or something. Figgin really had no interest. He was eyeing her coin purse and felt the urge to relieve her of that burden but he had other matters to attend to. She asked to meet him at her house later to talk, they could not talk out here in the open.
Figgin and Faendal headed off to Valtheim Keep. The two snuck up tot the entrance of the keep and surprised the lone bandit sitting outside with a plethra of arrows. The bandits had no chance as the Dunmer-Bosmer connection made short work of them, sending two to a plummeting death into the raging river below. They looted the keep and kept it all for themselves. We can just tell the Jarl, that there was no loot but the bandits were dead. Upstairs Figgin found an enchanted bow "A Blessed Imperial Bow". Faendal explained that this bow would make the undead flee when used. Pretty cool thought Figgin and he decided to keep that one for himself.
Back at Whiterun the two unloaded their goods at The Drunken Huntsman. Figgin bought a Flaming Bow that causes Fire damage on its target. There was a female dark elf in the corner alone. The owner of the shop said her name was Jenessa. She was beautiful to Figgin and reminded him of his mother. Jenessa was a mercenary of some kind. He smiled at her as he left and thought, I must come back her eand talk to her when I have some time. For now they needed to get back to Riverwood.
On the way back to Riverwood, a lone Imperial Soldier attacked Figgin from behind a tree. With catlike reflexes, Figgin turned and fried the poor bastard in his tracks with flames from both hands. They pressed on to Riverwood as it was getting dark now. It was 1:38 am by the time the reached Riverwood. Tomorrow, Figgin knew he had to move on from Riverwood and do what he intended to do when he set out for Skyrim. His obligations to Gerdur and Ralof were done and now he could find the dark brotherhood and the thieves guild. the bartender in Whiterun told Figgin of a boy in Windhelm, an orphan, who had been seeking the dark brotherhood himself. Since that was the only lead he had, looks like he would be headed to Windhelm in the morning. He remembered there was a carriage for hire outside of Whiterun he thought of using to save the long walk to Windhelm. The part he dreaded the most was telling Feandal, it was time to part ways. He couldn't ask his new friend to join him on this road. This next chapter wa snot for the good hearted Figgin thought. He decided to wait until morning to tell him though. He was too tired to do it tonight.
Morning came way too quickly for Figgin. He knew Faendal would be up and ready to go. Damn spitefully Bosmer. Actually, he has become quite fond of his new Bosmer friend. Weird, Figgin had no friends minus Clavius in 15 years. They continued their archery training until there was nothing else Faednal could teach Figgin. They ate breakfast and perused the outdoor shops in Whiterun. Figgin spoke to Fralia Grey-Mane and she seemed very paranoid and was rambling about her son and that he was taken by someone or something. Figgin really had no interest. He was eyeing her coin purse and felt the urge to relieve her of that burden but he had other matters to attend to. She asked to meet him at her house later to talk, they could not talk out here in the open.
Figgin and Faendal headed off to Valtheim Keep. The two snuck up tot the entrance of the keep and surprised the lone bandit sitting outside with a plethra of arrows. The bandits had no chance as the Dunmer-Bosmer connection made short work of them, sending two to a plummeting death into the raging river below. They looted the keep and kept it all for themselves. We can just tell the Jarl, that there was no loot but the bandits were dead. Upstairs Figgin found an enchanted bow "A Blessed Imperial Bow". Faendal explained that this bow would make the undead flee when used. Pretty cool thought Figgin and he decided to keep that one for himself.
Back at Whiterun the two unloaded their goods at The Drunken Huntsman. Figgin bought a Flaming Bow that causes Fire damage on its target. There was a female dark elf in the corner alone. The owner of the shop said her name was Jenessa. She was beautiful to Figgin and reminded him of his mother. Jenessa was a mercenary of some kind. He smiled at her as he left and thought, I must come back her eand talk to her when I have some time. For now they needed to get back to Riverwood.
On the way back to Riverwood, a lone Imperial Soldier attacked Figgin from behind a tree. With catlike reflexes, Figgin turned and fried the poor bastard in his tracks with flames from both hands. They pressed on to Riverwood as it was getting dark now. It was 1:38 am by the time the reached Riverwood. Tomorrow, Figgin knew he had to move on from Riverwood and do what he intended to do when he set out for Skyrim. His obligations to Gerdur and Ralof were done and now he could find the dark brotherhood and the thieves guild. the bartender in Whiterun told Figgin of a boy in Windhelm, an orphan, who had been seeking the dark brotherhood himself. Since that was the only lead he had, looks like he would be headed to Windhelm in the morning. He remembered there was a carriage for hire outside of Whiterun he thought of using to save the long walk to Windhelm. The part he dreaded the most was telling Feandal, it was time to part ways. He couldn't ask his new friend to join him on this road. This next chapter wa snot for the good hearted Figgin thought. He decided to wait until morning to tell him though. He was too tired to do it tonight.
Enter Mirmulnir
Tirdas 11:47 am
Figgin took advantage of the quietness of the upper room at the Trader and slept in until almost noon on Tirdas. Faendal was already awake and mending his bow in the corner.
"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Figgin.
"My father was a master archer." replied Faendal. "He taught me almost everything there is to know about bows until his untimely death by Sabre Cat outside Whiterun. I am a Journeyman of Archery. I can teach you if you like?"
"I don't have that kind of coin." responded Figgin.
"You saved my life once or twice in the Bleak, it's the least I can do." said Faendal.
They worked all day and Faendal taught Figgin everything he knew about archery. Figgin knew he still owed Gerdur a trip to Whiterun so Figgin asked to take the lessons on the road and asked Faendal to accompany him. Faendal obliged and the two elves were off. They stopped at The Sleeping Giant Inn for some breakfast and drink for the trip to Whiterun.
Upon entering the Giant, they heard the sounds of Sven singing an old Nord song of love. Figgin could only try to conceal his chuckle and smile as they walked past, thinking of how heartbroken and devastated he must be about Camilla. The two elves ate and Figgin asked the bartender if there was any work around here to earn some coin. The bartender said there were some bandits holed up in Valtheim Keep and the Jarl was offering a bounty for their capture , dead or alive. Seemed easy enough, it was only yesterday that the pair of elven warriors took out a bandit camp at that tower on the way to Bleak Falls Barrow. How hard can these guys be? Faendal agreed and they plotted to take care of that after they speak to the Jarl. After all, Figgin still had to fulfill his promise to Gerdur and tell the Jarl about the dragon he encountered at Helgen.
As they set out of Riverwood en route to Whitrun, they happened upon three Imperial Soldiers gambling and drinking mead on the side of the road. Figgin, never missing a chance to punish Imperial Soldiers, snuck up on the rocks and unleashed a barrage of arrows at the soldiers. The soldiers were stunned and staggered up the rocks at the two elves. Figgin conjured up his Flames and shot fire from his left hand and struck the wounded soldiers down on the rocks. They looted the men and continued to Whiterun.
After selling off the loot, they ascended the staircase to Dragon Reach as they entered the Jarl's Palace. They were met by a Dark Elf named Irileth, the Jarl's Housecarl and taken to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. Figgin told him all about Helgen, well almost all of it minus the almost execution piece. Pleased by this the Jarl gave Figgin some Studded Imperial Armor and asked him to stay a talk to Farangar, the Jarl's wizard who was working on some dragon research and could use his help.
Farangar looked more like a Necromancer than a wizard, but what did Figgin know of these things? The wizard asked if the duo would be interested in traveling to Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieving an ancient Dragon Stone for his research. Not aware that Figgin and Faendal had already ventured to the Barrow and were already in possession of the stone, Figgin whipped the stone out and casually laid it on the wizard's table.
"You mean this stone?" Figgin slyly remarked.
"Ahh, the Dragon Stone, you have it? You are cut from a different cloth." Farengar exclaimed.
Just then Irileth busted through the door, panting and rambling about a dragon at the West Watch Tower. When the Jarl heard this he sent Irileth to the tower with her men and asked if Figgin will join them and help him one more time. By now it was getting dark and a trip to Valtheim Keep in the dark to attack bandits seemed less appealing to Figgin now plus why not see another Dragin, this time he would be armed and ready to fight.
The watch tower was just down the road a bit. The flames and smoke could be seen from the city gate. When the party arrived they were warned that the dragon was still around and to leave the area. It was too late, as the enormous winged beast landed and flooded the ground with its firery breath. Figgin unleashed a steady stream of arrows hat pierced the scales of this mythic beast. Mirmulnir, that was the name of the dragon, took to the skies and landed on the opposite side of the tower, torching two guards before Figgin took aim at the heart of Mirmulnir and plunged an arrow deep into it, bringing down the towering creature.
Figgin, standing only 3 feet from Mirmulnir's fallen corpse breathed in a deep breath of relief. and turned to find Faendal. All of a sudden Figgin was frozen in his tracks and an enormous light came from the dragon's dead body and blinding pain encapsulated Figgin as the light moved through him and all around him and then, what seemed to be, straight down his throat to the pit of his stomach. Intense pain and strange power overtook Fiigin and he dropped to one knee. The light subsided and there was Figgin alive, much to the disbelief of the rest of the party. Figgin stood up and surveyed the landscape. Something was different. Figgin felt revived and oddly stronger than before.
"What happened?" asked Figgin.
"You are Dragonborne!!!" one guard proclaimed.
"Dragonborne? What does that mean?" Figgin cocked an eye at him.
"Ancient legend says that the dragonborne absorbs the souls of the slayed dragons and takes its power. that is what you did. Try to shout, that will prove it."
Figgin, remembered the words he utter in the cavern at Bleak Falls. He had a feeling it was connected somehow. He turned tot he sky and yelled as loud a s he could those words. The ground shook with such a force that everyone stumbled backwards and almost fell down. Maybe it is true, maybe I am dragonborne? but what did that mean? Figgin had to talk to the Jarl and see if there is something he knew. Just then a thundering voice came from the top of one of the far off mountains that seemed to shake all of Skyrim.
When they re-entered Whiterun, Figgin met two Redguard Alikr' Warrior who were looking for a Redguard women who was a fugitive. They were offering a reward, so naturally Figgin agreed to let them know if he saw them. Not thinking too much of this encounter, as he had his own agenda, he darted passed them and up the steps to Dragon Reach.
The Jarl explained the legend of the Dragonborne and that other voice they heard was that of the Greybeards, master of the voice. they were calling Figgin and summoning him to their mountain sanctuary at High Hrothgar. The Jarl suggested Figgin make the journey up to High Hrothgar to speak to the Greybeards, only they could tell him if he were truly Dragonborne. Before Figgin could leave Dragon Reach, the Jarl bestowed upon him the title of Thane of Whiterun and assigned Lydia as his Housecarl. He also gave him the helmet of restoration as a token of thanks for all the help today.
Figgin and Faendal would get a room at The Bannered Mare for the night and planned to visit Valtheim Keep in the morning.
Figgin took advantage of the quietness of the upper room at the Trader and slept in until almost noon on Tirdas. Faendal was already awake and mending his bow in the corner.
"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Figgin.
"My father was a master archer." replied Faendal. "He taught me almost everything there is to know about bows until his untimely death by Sabre Cat outside Whiterun. I am a Journeyman of Archery. I can teach you if you like?"
"I don't have that kind of coin." responded Figgin.
"You saved my life once or twice in the Bleak, it's the least I can do." said Faendal.
They worked all day and Faendal taught Figgin everything he knew about archery. Figgin knew he still owed Gerdur a trip to Whiterun so Figgin asked to take the lessons on the road and asked Faendal to accompany him. Faendal obliged and the two elves were off. They stopped at The Sleeping Giant Inn for some breakfast and drink for the trip to Whiterun.
Upon entering the Giant, they heard the sounds of Sven singing an old Nord song of love. Figgin could only try to conceal his chuckle and smile as they walked past, thinking of how heartbroken and devastated he must be about Camilla. The two elves ate and Figgin asked the bartender if there was any work around here to earn some coin. The bartender said there were some bandits holed up in Valtheim Keep and the Jarl was offering a bounty for their capture , dead or alive. Seemed easy enough, it was only yesterday that the pair of elven warriors took out a bandit camp at that tower on the way to Bleak Falls Barrow. How hard can these guys be? Faendal agreed and they plotted to take care of that after they speak to the Jarl. After all, Figgin still had to fulfill his promise to Gerdur and tell the Jarl about the dragon he encountered at Helgen.
As they set out of Riverwood en route to Whitrun, they happened upon three Imperial Soldiers gambling and drinking mead on the side of the road. Figgin, never missing a chance to punish Imperial Soldiers, snuck up on the rocks and unleashed a barrage of arrows at the soldiers. The soldiers were stunned and staggered up the rocks at the two elves. Figgin conjured up his Flames and shot fire from his left hand and struck the wounded soldiers down on the rocks. They looted the men and continued to Whiterun.
After selling off the loot, they ascended the staircase to Dragon Reach as they entered the Jarl's Palace. They were met by a Dark Elf named Irileth, the Jarl's Housecarl and taken to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. Figgin told him all about Helgen, well almost all of it minus the almost execution piece. Pleased by this the Jarl gave Figgin some Studded Imperial Armor and asked him to stay a talk to Farangar, the Jarl's wizard who was working on some dragon research and could use his help.
Farangar looked more like a Necromancer than a wizard, but what did Figgin know of these things? The wizard asked if the duo would be interested in traveling to Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieving an ancient Dragon Stone for his research. Not aware that Figgin and Faendal had already ventured to the Barrow and were already in possession of the stone, Figgin whipped the stone out and casually laid it on the wizard's table.
"You mean this stone?" Figgin slyly remarked.
"Ahh, the Dragon Stone, you have it? You are cut from a different cloth." Farengar exclaimed.
Just then Irileth busted through the door, panting and rambling about a dragon at the West Watch Tower. When the Jarl heard this he sent Irileth to the tower with her men and asked if Figgin will join them and help him one more time. By now it was getting dark and a trip to Valtheim Keep in the dark to attack bandits seemed less appealing to Figgin now plus why not see another Dragin, this time he would be armed and ready to fight.
The watch tower was just down the road a bit. The flames and smoke could be seen from the city gate. When the party arrived they were warned that the dragon was still around and to leave the area. It was too late, as the enormous winged beast landed and flooded the ground with its firery breath. Figgin unleashed a steady stream of arrows hat pierced the scales of this mythic beast. Mirmulnir, that was the name of the dragon, took to the skies and landed on the opposite side of the tower, torching two guards before Figgin took aim at the heart of Mirmulnir and plunged an arrow deep into it, bringing down the towering creature.
Figgin, standing only 3 feet from Mirmulnir's fallen corpse breathed in a deep breath of relief. and turned to find Faendal. All of a sudden Figgin was frozen in his tracks and an enormous light came from the dragon's dead body and blinding pain encapsulated Figgin as the light moved through him and all around him and then, what seemed to be, straight down his throat to the pit of his stomach. Intense pain and strange power overtook Fiigin and he dropped to one knee. The light subsided and there was Figgin alive, much to the disbelief of the rest of the party. Figgin stood up and surveyed the landscape. Something was different. Figgin felt revived and oddly stronger than before.
"What happened?" asked Figgin.
"You are Dragonborne!!!" one guard proclaimed.
"Dragonborne? What does that mean?" Figgin cocked an eye at him.
"Ancient legend says that the dragonborne absorbs the souls of the slayed dragons and takes its power. that is what you did. Try to shout, that will prove it."
Figgin, remembered the words he utter in the cavern at Bleak Falls. He had a feeling it was connected somehow. He turned tot he sky and yelled as loud a s he could those words. The ground shook with such a force that everyone stumbled backwards and almost fell down. Maybe it is true, maybe I am dragonborne? but what did that mean? Figgin had to talk to the Jarl and see if there is something he knew. Just then a thundering voice came from the top of one of the far off mountains that seemed to shake all of Skyrim.
When they re-entered Whiterun, Figgin met two Redguard Alikr' Warrior who were looking for a Redguard women who was a fugitive. They were offering a reward, so naturally Figgin agreed to let them know if he saw them. Not thinking too much of this encounter, as he had his own agenda, he darted passed them and up the steps to Dragon Reach.
The Jarl explained the legend of the Dragonborne and that other voice they heard was that of the Greybeards, master of the voice. they were calling Figgin and summoning him to their mountain sanctuary at High Hrothgar. The Jarl suggested Figgin make the journey up to High Hrothgar to speak to the Greybeards, only they could tell him if he were truly Dragonborne. Before Figgin could leave Dragon Reach, the Jarl bestowed upon him the title of Thane of Whiterun and assigned Lydia as his Housecarl. He also gave him the helmet of restoration as a token of thanks for all the help today.
Figgin and Faendal would get a room at The Bannered Mare for the night and planned to visit Valtheim Keep in the morning.
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