Dragonborn Rising Ch 08 1

Skyrim -- Cyrodiil Border

After limping out of the stadium, Gozarth and Androna washed in a watering trough. The murky standing water smelled stagnant, but it rinsed off the mixture of dirt, grit, blood and gore from them. Guards stood-by keeping an eye on them tossed them a pile of old clothes to sift through. Androna's tunic had been too large, the breeches too tight and the moccasin-style boots threadbare. She was almost afraid of bending over to lace them up, fearing her pants would split, but at least she was covered. Gozarth took pelts, tied them around his waist and found an old set of leather boots that fit. "This'll work until we can find something better."

The guards also tossed them a purse containing a few septims. As soon as they left the stadium, they found a food stand. Purchasing something to eat, Gozarth pilfered some apples to tide them over later. Androna noticed he was quite adept at stealing things. By the end of the first day of their journey, they were well outside the city and walking along a road headed north. During the journey that day they had passed huge military encampments and the road itself had been busy with military traffic.

The Imperials in their combinations of light steel armor and Altmer in lustrous golden elven plate armor had all but ignored them. Occasionally, a mounted rider would come alongside them to order them off the road, to allow a formation to march past.

"That's a lot of soldiers," muttered Gozarth quietly.

"I know," responded Androna, keeping her head down and cautioned, "Don't let them see you looking at them. We don't want to raise any suspicions."

Weaving through the traffic unmolested, by sundown they had left the armies far behind them and they had skirted around Bruma. They were now in the foothills and the mountains of Skyrim loomed to the north.

As they were discussing what they would do in the morning, they came upon a small camp by the road.

"Where do you think you're going," inquired a huge Imperial dressed in battered and ill-kept armor and had a large two-handed sword strapped to his back. Beside the fire were two other Imperials, a man and woman both dressed in leather.

Androna trying to act friendly said, "We're just headed north. We don't want any trouble."

The sentry stepped closer unsheathing the massive sword, they saw he had a scar the ran along the right side of his face. "Too bad, bitch. This is my road and you have to pay to use it."

As he approached, Gozarth moved right circling away from him, while Androna stood her ground. Glancing past the Imperial she saw the others in the camp had taken up weapons as well. The woman picked up a short sword and the man grabbed a short war axe.

As the Imperial drew closer, he licked his lips and said lewdly, "I'm going love sampling your sweets, cuteness," and then added, "Let's make this easy, shall we."

Androna smiled and said, "that's the problem I have," and as she brought her hands up, finished with, "I like doing things the hard way."

With that twin bolt of lightning leapt from her fingertips and blinded the Imperial as he raised the massive sword for a down swing. He staggered back, as Gozarth charged him, slamming into him and knocking him down.

Androna sidestepped as the second Imperial with the axe charged forward. She brought her foot up and kicked him as hard as she could. He screamed in pain as she heard several ribs crack, dropping the axe and falling to the dirt. Seeing all this the woman backpedaled and ran the other way. Before she could get away, Androna hit her squarely in the back with another bolt of lightning, which threw her face first into the grass.

As Gozarth and the big Imperial were wrestling on the ground, Androna grabbed the axe with both hands and swung it as hard as she could, the blade sinking deep into the back of the man's head, dropping him where he knelt.

Gozarth was able to get his hands around the throat of the Imperial and he squeezed the life out of him. The Imperial's eyes bulged from their sockets, spasmed and then fell still. The Orc stood and wiped the blood from his eyes that had spilled from several cuts on his face.

"Fucking rookies," he muttered, as he picked-up the huge sword and checked the temper and edge of the blade.

Androna jogged to where the Imperial woman lay. As she drew near, the woman surprised her by lunging at her and knocking her down. Before the Altmer knew what was happening the bandit was sitting on her chest and was raising the sword. All she could do was struggle wide-eyed under her weight.

Suddenly Gozarth's greenish-black hands wrapped vice-like on the woman's head and jaw from behind and twisted with a sickening, wet crunch, as her neck was broken. Dropping the sword, she slumped as dead weight onto Androna.

"That's twice I've saved your ass," growled the Orc.

"And I didn't save yours," she shot back as she rolled the body off of herself and got to her feet.

"Shit," Gozarth said with the wave of a hand, "I could've handled him."

"Let's get as much as can and get the hell out here," said Androna, kneeling to strip the corpse of her clothing.

The bandit's camp contained some blankets a few more septims, a chicken that was roasting on a spit over a small fire and a bottle of wine. They took everything they thought was useful and moved several miles into the hills off the road. They found a small cave and decided to make camp there. For safety, they would camp cold and not make a fire.

Androna told Gozarth to sit down, so she could tend to his wounds. "You like giving order, don't you," he growled.

Trying to clean the wound, Androna jabbed the deep cut, causing the Orc to wince in pain and curse, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to help," and jokingly said, "Come on, big boy. You're Orismer, you can handle this. Can't you?"

Androna commented that restoration wasn't her specialty, but she could quickly get him fixed-up. Her hands glowed and Gozarth sighed in relief as his pain was replaced by the warmth of the healing magic.

Before eating, Androna changed clothes and found the Imperial leatherware was an almost perfect fit. The leather was a little thin in places, but it would work. Gozarth leaned against the rocks and enjoyed the show. He noticed that for a High Elf, she was quite lovely to look at.

Afterwards, he tore the fowl in two and tossed half to Androna and dug into the still warm meat. Androna uncorked the bottle of wine and took a test sip, grimacing. "Not the best, but it'll do in a pinch," and passed it to Gozarth, who took a deep pull.

After they had eaten and were passing the bottle between them, Gozarth asked, "What happened back there. Who in Oblivion did you piss off?"

"You mean back at the stadium," said Androna clarifying the question as she brushed a lock of blonde hair from her eyes, "Ambassador Elenwen."

The Altmer went onto describe what life in the Dominion was like. There were the haves and the have-nots and the status-quo was controlled by the High Council. She thought that her family were among the haves. The Greylock's were one of the oldest aristocratic families on Summerset Isle. Her older brother was a Justicar and the Ambassador's Chief-of-Staff and thinking she was a rising star, had joined the Thalmor after graduating from the College of Winterhold a few years ago.

She went onto explain that to her all the stories of night time disappearances and inquisitions were merely tales told to scare children. The Thalmor desired order and High Council was a very benevolent authority.

That all changed when she was ordered to Cyrodiil. She began seeing the Dominion's true colors. "I also learned," shaking her head in disgust at the thought, "What a conniving bastard my brother is."

Androna went onto describe how Aenthil, used his position with the Ambassador as a way of throwing his weight around. "I tried to ignore it and just do my job," she confessed. Working on arcane research was a passion and she didn't have to deal with the other Justicars and their inflated egos.

"That morning," taking a long swig from the bottle and passing it to Gozarth and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and continuing said, 'That imbecilic Mithinar told me to find the Ambassador, as she was late for the demonstration."

"I guess you found her, right," inquired the Orc, after he took a swallow of wine.

"In a pleasure palace getting screwed by three Imperial sex slaves," Androna blurted-out. Gozarth burst-out in gravelly laughter slapping a knee in mirth.

"I was mortified, but I did my best to stay composed," she said as Gozarth laughed at her expense.

Androna grabbed a blanket and moved to Gozarth's side and spread the blanket over them and again accepted the bottle. She swirled it to determine how much was left and handed it back to the Orc.

"Here," she said her words slurring, "You can have rest as your reward for saving me."

With a chuckle Gozarth took it and tipped up the bottle draining it and belched.

"Gods," complained Androna, "Do I ever need to teach you some manners," as she snuggled into his side and went to sleep.

The next morning before they broke camp, they discussed their plan of action. Gozarth took a stick and drew a rough map of the terrain. He suggested going farther south and avoiding the border crossing south of Helgen. Androna disagreed and said it would take longer.

"Well then," Gozarth said crossing his massive arms and growled in condescension, "What the fuck do you plan to do, walk up to the gate and knock?"

Not realizing that she was being made mocked, Androna said, "No. They would never take us seriously," and motioning with her hand to the right of where the gate was drawn, "Let's go this way. It'll be quicker."

"How in Oblivion do you know," blurted the Orc.

"I can just see," motioning with her hand at the drawing with her hand and finished with, "I don't need to be a mapmaker to see that."

"Fine," grunted Gozarth, "I hope to you like climbing," as he rubbed out the map.

Standing he said, "I'm going to piss," and stomped away.

Later as they walked, they took note they were steadily gaining elevation and trees began appearing, replacing the open grasslands. Soon they found themselves walking through deep woods, as it began to rain and become steadily colder.

By midday they were scaling over and around rocks and following animal trails. The rain intermittently changed to snow and soaked them through. They were quickly tiring, but were determined to press on. Through the mist above them, they could see the peaks of the tall mountains that formed the southern border of Skyrim.

At one point, Androna needed to relieve herself. She moved off the trail and up a slope to a small thicket for some privacy. She moved into the bushes untied her breeches, pushed the wet leather down to her ankles and squatted. Just then the brush to her left shook and she heard a rumbling growl. Turning to look over her shoulder she about to threaten Gozarth for trying to play a joke, when she saw the immense head of a grizzly. When it saw her and roared, a blood curdling scream issued from her lips and she burst out of the brush, trying to run downhill with her clothes around her feet.

Seeing this, the Orc unsheathed the massive sword on his back and charged the bear. Androna ran past him with the bear on her heels. He swung the sword with all of his might, catching the bear along its head causing a deep gash. The bear howled in pain and rage and turned to face its new threat. It reared-up on its hind legs and swung a massive forepaw, which Gozarth ducked and then sprang forward with a savage thrust.

Instead of striking it mark, the blade creased the bear's ribs. The grizzly countered with its other paw, which landed squarely against the side of the Orc's exposed head and knocked him to the ground.

All of this had given Androna just enough time to pull up her breeches. When she saw Gozarth go down and before the massive bear could begin mauling him, she screamed, "No," and thrusting out with both hands produced a searing cone of flames that slammed into the bear. Burning its eyes, scorching it's fur and causing it to roar in pain.

She backpedaled to draw the bear away from Gozarth and hit it with another cone of flames, concentrating to maintain the steady stream of fire. She backed into the trunk of a tree and almost tripped over the roots. Gritting her teeth, she could feel the magicka draining from her to maintain the fire and that was sapping her of her strength; however, she saw the magicka fire was having the desired effect. The Grizzly was a lumbering mass of flames. Its pelt was completely burned away over most of its body and the head was almost unrecognizable and the smell of burnt hair and flesh was making her sick.

"Why won't you fucking die," the High Elf screamed.

The bear rose on its feet and to ready a paw to cut her to ribbons. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to protect herself, as the hot, fetid air whooshed past her and she heard it crash to the ground at her feet.

Cracking open an eye to peak, she saw that it was a dead, smoldering mess. She coughed and waved her hands to try to sweep away the foul smoke. Then moving around the carcass, she ran to check on Gozarth.

The Orc had a nasty bleeding welt on his temple and was barely breathing. With the last of her magicka reserves, her glowing hands touched his head. "Come on, wake up, Gozarth. Don't die on me, you son a bitch," she shouted trying to revive him a consciousness.

After several minutes he groaned and opened his eyes. Pushing up on his hands and knees he asked in a quizzical voice, "Where's the bear?"

With a relieved smiled that he was back among the living, Androna pointed over her shoulder.

Looking in that direction, wide-eyed, Gozarth exclaimed, "Holy shit! You killed it," and then questioned, "How?"

Androna smiled and brought her hands up in front of her and wiggled her fingers.

"Help me up," groaned the Orc. Androna stood and helped the larger Orismer to his feet. He limped over to the bear's carcass. Turning to look at her and putting his hand out, he asked, "Give me the short sword."

Androna unsheathed the sword and handed it to him pommel first. Gozarth took it and leaning down stabbed it into the bear's still smoking remains. Its blood seeped forth, bubbling and steaming as it touched the hot hide. Gozarth reached into the blood, grunting as he stood, he turned to Androna, moving the bloody hand to her face.

Taking a step back with a disgusted look on her face she said, "What in Oblivion are you doing?"

"Your blood-kin now. You saved my life," said the Orc in a serious and respectful growl and finished with, "You're an honorary member of the clan."

Stepping forward he smeared the warm liquid on her cheeks, chin and forehead.

"This is disgusting," complained the Altmer, almost gagging.

He knelt with a grown and went to work on the paws, removing each claw. She didn't ask him what that was about. Probably some weird Orc custom, she thought. She was beginning to understand they were a very tradition-based race. She then helped him limp to the cover of an over-hanging ledge and sit on a rock, so that she could continue healing him. While she did so, he tied the claws into the pelts around his waist.

As she tended to his wounds, she inquired, "So are there any special privileges for being blood-kin, above being your bitch?"

Gozarth guffawed and said, "Yeah there are, but you're still a bitch. You're just blooded."

As she massaged his head with her glowing hands, his demeanor softened, and she noticed he looked quite handsome.

Deadpan he said, "Thanks."

"Oh, don't mention it," she joked, "I do it for all the bastards I know," causing them both to laugh, which seemed to improve their depressing situation.

By that evening they had made it to the summit. The winds wiped the rain, snow and ice into them, like daggers. They were drenched, shivering, hungry and tired. Their legs ached from the near vertical ascent they had completed. The trail they were following zigged through the rocks and zagged up and down scores of feet and at one point, Gozarth had regretfully shed the two-handed sword, as maneuvering with the extra weight on his back had become hazardous. As darkness fell, they found a small cave, a little more than a deep notch in the rocks.

Using one of their blankets, they secured it as a covering to keep most of the wind off them.

Androna quaking like a leaf said, "If we don't get out of the wet clothes we'll freeze during the night," to which Gozarth agreed.

"Use your fire to heat some rocks," suggested Gozarth and trying to enfold himself in his bare arms, said, "We'll strip and dry our clothes and wrap-up in the other one to keep warm."

"Excuse me," said Androna clearly offended at the suggestion and retorted, "Fucking you on the top of this mountain is the last thing on my mind!"

Quaking and almost hypothermic, Gozarth barked, "Who said anything about screwing your scrawny ass," and roared to make his point, "I'm just trying to keep us from fucking freezing to death!"

Taken aback, the Altmer admitted, "Okay, I guess you've got a point," and set about warming the small space by heating the walls, while Gozarth moved the stones on the floor of the crevasse into a pile. Androna then used a continuous flame to heat the pile to an orange glow and brought the sub-zero temperature of the small space to something more tolerable.

Disrobing was a challenge in the tight quarters, but they accomplished it without burning themselves on the heated rocks or knocking each other down. Once they were naked and their clothes were laying on the rocks to dry, Androna huddled against him and Gozarth wrapped the blanket around them and then they maneuvered to the rocky floor.

"Shit," Gozarth exclaimed, "You're like ice," and wrapped an arm around the quaking High Elf.

Pressing herself against his rock-hard side and hugging his waist tightly, she muttered, "Gods, it's like hugging granite," and laid her head against his chest, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

With shivering lips, she stuttered, "How the hell do you not freeze in just that loincloth?"

"Orcs are tough," he growled.

They sat there in silence for nearly an hour before they could stop shivering, as their bodies slowly warmed. Finally, Androna moaned, "I wish we had some food. I'm starving."

"Give me some light," said Gozarth and she stuck an arm into the chilly air of the crevasse and produced a glowing orb of energy that drifted to the ceiling and bathed the space in warm light. Gozarth shifted position and got on his knees.

Letting the blanket fall open, Androna complained, "Hey your letting in all the cold air."

With his back to her he reached for the pelts he had been wearing. While he searched them, Androna suddenly realized she quite enjoyed the time they were spending together. She admired his chiseled physique. His muscles rippled under the greenish-black skin. As she let her eyes glide over his form, she also noticed how truly well-endowed he was.

He found what he was looking for and sat back down beside her and she quickly snuggled close to him and he again covered himself. "What did you find," she asked very curious and hoping it was any kind of food.

Smiling he said, "I remembered I had one left," and as his hand came into view, she saw it was holding a lustrous red and yellow apple.

Androna, was amazed and never thought a simple piece of fruit could look so good. "Gozarth, you're amazing," she said and kissed his cheek with a loud smack.

Holding it toward her, he growled, "You can have the first bite, for saving me."

Smiling, she opened her mouth wide and took the biggest bite she could. The juice ran down her chin. As she chewed, she closed her eyes and savored the tangy sweetness and felt energy returning. "Gods," she exclaimed, "That tastes wonderful!"