Tales of the Dragonborn - A Housecarl's

[NorvilleBaggins]

Greetings, and thanks for stopping by! This is a bit of an experimental project on my part, an attempt to spice up my latest replay of Skyrim with a much-needed twist, as well as honing my novice-level skills as a writer. What follows is an account of my current playthrough, filled to the brim with all sorts of mods and additions. I will try and keep track of which mods are being used as they appear, to give as much credit as possible and highlight the works of the very talented authors of the Nexus!

 

Also, I may have messed up the title a bit (Naturally, I had to mess up my first post...If anyone knows how I can rectify this, please let me know!), so the proper name of this story should be:

Tales of the Dragonborn - A Housecarl's Account

 

Anyway, without further ado, let the story begin!

Edited December 29, 2020 by NorvilleBaggins

[NorvilleBaggins]

Prologue

 

The events which I am about to describe happened over the course of a year, beginning late in the month of Last Seed, two hundred and one years after the start of the Fourth Era. In a time where brothers were beset against brothers for the right of an independent Skyrim and the Empire was deep in a state of economic and military stagnation due to the effects of the Great War, a new threat from the deepest recesses of history was met by a stranger with the blood of ancients. The ensuing conflict ended in a newfound era of peace and prosperity to the province, one whose lasting impacts can be felt up and down the centuries since.

 

At least, that’s how I imagine that the great scribes of the Imperial City may choose to chronicle these very same events many years from now, after all who have lived them are long gone, and their effects are little more than echoes in the passing breeze of hundreds of years. For me, who is neither great nor a scribe, I will simply say that everything began on the 24^th of Last Seed 4E201, twenty-six years after the end of the Great War, one year into the Skyrim Civil War, and only two months into my twenty-seventh year.

 

It was on that day that Balgruuf, Jarl of the great city of Whiterun saw fit to nominate a new Thane^[1] of his hold. Not only that, but the housecarl to be assigned to this thane was none other than a humble and unworthy daughter of Skyrim, the very same who has penned the words before you. What was a normally great honor and culmination of ten years of hard work on my part was almost immediately met with skepticism, especially once I learned of the man, or more properly the Mer, whom I was to be made housecarl to.

 

Ah, but before we get to that, perhaps it is best that I spend some time introducing who exactly I am. This is my account of all that has happened, of course, and I would prefer that anyone who reads this has as accurate as possible an image of who is narrating their story. Plus, in many of the great stories and legends already floating from tavern to tavern across the province, there have been many exaggerations as to my Thane himself, and even less is publicly clear about those who have traveled with and experienced those same adventures.

 

My name is Lydia. Those of you who are familiar with me may know of me as Lydia Dovahkriid^[2] (though it would be much too pretentious of me to assume I’ve dealt the felling blow to any of the dragons I fought, on account of my divinely-ordained Thane), though from my birth I was simply known as Lydia. I am a Nord, born and raised in Whiterun Hold, where I resided up until the date in question. My father was a veteran of the Great War, an Imperial Legate who served with distinction at the Battle of the Red Ring^[3]. My mother, on the other hand, was a longtime Companion, on track to become a member of “The Circle”^[4], when an unfortunate raid on a bandit camp resulted in her untimely death. I was only six years old when my mother died, and was mostly raised by my father and older brothers from that point forward. It was a tough but rewarding life, steeped in centuries of learning about the fighting styles of both great Imperial and Nordic strategists and warriors. It was also my upbringing which showed me that I wanted nothing more than to become a warrior myself, and for ten years following my seventeenth birthday and all the way until this date I have already recounted to you, I served as a resident housecarl in the court of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater.

 

It was this job which brings me back to the story at hand. Amidst the backdrop of the Civil War, as well as rumors flying all over the province about a dragon attack which decimated the fortress village of Helgen and allowed Ulfric Stormcloak to escape the jaws of an Imperial execution squad, the people of Whiterun were on edge. Word had arrived from Riverwood that the small logging village may too have been in danger, and reports were coming from the Western Watchtower just outside our own city that a dragon had been spotted. It was around this same time that a stranger appeared in the court of the Jarl. This stranger was none other than an Orsimer mercenary by the name of Burkaz gro-Krugnak.

 

Now, I imagine that many of those reading may not quite understand the visceral negative reaction and skepticism which was afforded to this newcomer Orc. After all, the ensuing events which nowadays are very well known and discussed have shown the deep heroism and noble character of now-Thane Burkaz. But back in Last Seed of 4E201, this name was naught but a mystery. Orcs did not commonly come through Whiterun, and those that did were either ruffians affiliated with roving groups of bandits, or mercenaries attached to the various Khajiit caravans which rarely stepped inside the confines of the city walls. The main groups of Orcs in Skyrim were confined to the Orc Strongholds dotted throughout the mountains, none of which are within the confines of Whiterun Hold.

 

Still, this Burkaz gro-Krugnak came into our city on errand from Riverwood, carrying a request from Alvor the blacksmith for the Jarl’s aid. I can tell that the initiative which the Orc had shown in coming by himself to deliver a request of aid for a people he had no allegiance to greatly impressed Jarl Balgruuf, and I am to understand that he sent Burkaz gro-Krugnak on another assignment for Farengar Secret-Fire^[5]. Following this came the Incident at the Western Watchtower, which those from Whiterun will be very acquainted with, but I will summarize here for those of you who may not be as familiar.

 

As it turned out, the reports of a dragon prowling the skies near the Western Watchtower were no joke, and a runner brought word to Dragonsreach that an attack may have been imminent. Burkaz gro-Krugnak accepted the Jarl’s request for help, and accompanied Housecarl Irileth^[6] and a contingent of city guards to the watchtower.

 

Over the next couple of hours, two things happened that shook the very foundations of what we Nords thought we knew. First, rumors preceded the return of Irileth’s guard contingent that the dragon had been killed. This was most welcomely received, but quickly accompanied by something met with much more trepidation. Apparently, this Orc mercenary, this Burkaz gro-Krugnak, had absorbed the very soul of the dragon; the guards were quick to label him “Dragonborn”^[7], something which no mortal has had the honor of being called for centuries; not since St. Martin Septim, who had died at the end of the Third Era. The idea of a Dragonborn being appointed now, and an Orc no less, caused me to immediately doubt this. Surely, the guards were just so overjoyed at having slain a dragon that they imagined such things. I was able to stay in this comfortable skepticism for a little while, before much more concrete evidence was thrown into my lap.

 

I say “thrown” but it is more accurate to say “shouted”. Near sunset that day, a loud chorus of shouting washed over the entire land, calling for the “Dovahkiin”. Like the voices of the gods themselves, the entire world was shaken. Never in my life had I ever heard such commanding and booming voices sweep over the land so gracefully, and I couldn’t even begin to understand where the voices had come from, when Hrongar answered the question for me. It was the Greybeards^[8]. Indeed, no one else but the Greybeards had the ability to speak in the Ancient Voice so well, and rock the entire foundations of the world.

No sooner had I begun to process this as I was approached by Jarl Balgruuf, who presented me with the information you have undoubtedly been expecting: He was going to be naming a new Thane of the hold, none other than the Orc and source of the day’s confusion, Burkaz gro-Krugnak. Furthermore, he was assigning me to be the Thane’s personal housecarl.

 

I think I nodded in numb agreement as the Jarl spoke, mind not completely processing what he was saying. My mind was still on what Hrongar had said. It took a moment before I snapped back to reality, stammering out a pitiful “Me?”

 

“Of course,” The Jarl responded. “You have been in training for a decade, and I believe it is finally time for you to fulfil your purpose.”

 

I can’t really remember what it was that I replied with, only that it was a heap of gibberish, something vaguely including “Orc” and “Dragonborn”. The Jarl shook his head in amused understanding, before saying the words of institution. “In my capabilities as Jarl of Whiterun, I, Balgruuf the Greater, am assigning you, Housecarl Lydia, to the service of my new Thane, Burkaz gro-Krugnak. Do you agree to uphold your position, for the good of Whiterun, for the good of your Jarl, for the good of your Thane, and for the good of Skyrim?”

 

I nodded, again blithering out some form of “Yes”, before Jarl Balgruuf nodded. “Then let it be done according to my power as Jarl.” And that was it. My mind couldn’t understand a bit of what was happening. My lifelong dream had just been answered, and yet I was too dumbfounded at having witnessed an event which had not happened since Talos himself to understand a word of it. I was to serve a Thane of Whiterun; the first Orsimer Thane of Whiterun who, as it turned out, also happened to be the first Orsimer Dragonborn. I had no idea what lay ahead of me, but I just hoped I could serve as the Divines best willed, and that I could bring an ounce of the loyalty and devotion known by my own father in his days. While being the housecarl of a Dragonborn Thane promised to bring with it a certain flare of adventure and spontaneity, there was no way for me to even fathom an ounce of the whirlwind I was about to embark on.

 

 

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1 A “thane”, for those who may not be familiar with the customs of the Nordic peoples, is an honorary title, usually for a warrior of great renown, who has proved themselves a friend and devoted servant of one of Skyrim’s nine Jarls. A thane is granted many privileges, including the right to own land granted by the Jarl, immunity from certain petty crimes, and the appointment of a personal housecarl. The housecarl is sworn to serve the Thane for life, or until released from service by the Thane or Jarl.

2 Literally, “Dragon-slayer”

3 The final major battle of the Great War, occurring in 4E185. Although a decisive victory for the Empire over the Thalmor, the over-exhausted Imperial Legion opted to sign the armistice known as the White-Gold Concordat after this battle.

4 The Circle is the name given to the inner group of “leaders” of the Companions, headed by the Harbinger. While leadership in the group is informal, most agree that these elite members serve as the governing body of the Companions.

5 The Court Wizard of Dragonsreach. The exact nature of this assignment, as best I have been able to gather from Farengar, was to delve into an ancient Nordic ruin outside of Riverwood known as Bleak Falls Barrow, where an ancient stone tablet known as the “Dragonstone” was to have been buried. Apparently Burkaz gro-Krugnak had already been to the ruin, and happened about the Dragonstone on his own.

6 Jarl Balgruuf’s personal Housecarl

7 “Dovahkiin” in Dragon Language. A Dragonborn is one who had the blood and soul of a dragon, blessed so by Akatosh. Besides the ability to absorb the very soul of a slain dragon, the Dragonborn is also known to have very easy command of the Thu’um, or the “Voice”

8 A monastic community of monks who live atop the Throat of the World, at the ancient fortress of High Hrothgar. The Greybeards spend their days meditating on the art of Thu’um, the Voice

[Saxhleel26]

Sorry that I'm replying to this so late (I'm not very active on the Nexus). I thought it was interesting that you used footnotes; adds a bit of flavor to the story. Why'd you stop?