Dovahkiin didn’t know how long he stayed in the tree line watching as men were being hauled off into carts. He was surprised to see one gagged and his hands bound, while all the others only had their hands bound. He wondered what made that joor so special that he would be gagged. His first thought was this man knew a the way of the voice. He remembered mention of a joor training with the greybeards before he came to Monahven. He also remembered Arngier telling him the man left to fight in a war. Dovahkiin wasn’t sure what war and he didn’t really care.
He heard that there was a rebellion going on here Skyrim when Odvahviing had him listening in at the bar for rumors. But this didn’t concern him, it had no bearing on his destiny.
Slowly he walked out of the bush and watched. He growled low when one of those other men wearing brown armor stormed over to him. He thought about shouting the lot of them to death, but he had been told not to harm the joors, he needed them.
“Tie him and put him with the others,” One of them ordered. ‘Great, just what he needed to be sitting in close quarters with joorre.’
He was seated across from a large nord, almost as large as himself. Beside him the gagged man was place and across from the gagged man was a puny joor. If the carriage bounced wrong there was a good chance that puny man would fall out.
He glanced ahead of the wagon and spotted many people riding horses and another carriage. He glanced behind them and saw another rider. Lastly he looked up in the sky over the tree tops and saw Odahviing watching, waiting. All he had to do was shout and the dragon would come and roast all of them, but that meant ousting dragons. So he didn’t call, not until he was desperate. He was probably going to jail, later he would break his way out and run to a clearing that was away from prying eyes.
“Why is he gagged?” Dovahkiin asked with a smirked as he looked at the gagged man.
“Watch yourself, you are speaking of Ulfric Stormcloak the next true high king,” the nord across from him bit out.
“Nahlot joor! Or you will not make your destination! Answer my question nu,” Dovahkiin commanded, his voice reverberating with the temptation of shouting. He saw the jul eyes widen and fear enter them. He could smell fear off of them all and enjoyed it.
“He’s gagged so he doesn’t shout, it’s how he killed the high king,” the puny man stated with fear.
“Gagging does not stop the thu’um,” Dovahkiin stated with a chuckle. “Mey.”
“How do you know this?” the big man asked.
“Mey, obviously I was taught,” Dovahkiin said with a disdainful shake of his head. He noticed the insulted look and didn’t care, it was only the truth. He may not know the customs of these people, but he had been taught enough about them. When and if he stayed in their towns he would learn more if needed. He still needed to decide if he was going to stay with them or at Monahven.
Re: The Wingless Dragon ch 10/?
He heard that there was a rebellion going on here Skyrim when Odvahviing had him listening in at the bar for rumors. But this
didn’t concern him, it had no bearing on his destiny.
Slowly he walked out of the bush and watched. He growled low when one of those other men wearing brown armor stormed over to him. He thought about shouting the lot of them to death, but he had been told not to harm the joors, he needed them.
“Tie him and put him with the others,” One of them ordered. ‘Great, just what he needed to be sitting in close quarters with joorre.’
He was seated across from a large nord, almost as large as himself. Beside him the gagged man was place and across from the gagged man was a puny joor. If the carriage bounced wrong there was a good chance that puny man would fall out.
He glanced ahead of the wagon and spotted many people riding horses and another carriage. He glanced behind them and saw another rider. Lastly he looked up in the sky over the tree tops and saw Odahviing watching, waiting. All he had to do was shout and the dragon would come and roast all of them, but that meant ousting dragons. So he didn’t call, not until he was desperate. He was probably going to jail, later he would break his way out and run to a clearing that was away from prying eyes.
“Why is he gagged?” Dovahkiin asked with a smirked as he looked at the gagged man.
“Watch yourself, you are speaking of Ulfric Stormcloak the next true high king,” the nord across from him bit out.
“Nahlot joor! Or you will not make your destination! Answer my question nu,” Dovahkiin commanded, his voice reverberating with the temptation of shouting. He saw the jul eyes widen and fear enter them. He could smell fear off of them all and enjoyed it.
“He’s gagged so he doesn’t shout, it’s how he killed the high king,” the puny man stated with fear.
“Gagging does not stop the thu’um,” Dovahkiin stated with a chuckle. “Mey.”
“How do you know this?” the big man asked.
“Mey, obviously I was taught,” Dovahkiin said with a disdainful shake of his head. He noticed the insulted look and didn’t care, it was only the truth. He may not know the customs of these people, but he had been taught enough about them. When and if he stayed in their towns he would learn more if needed. He still needed to decide if he was going to stay with them or at Monahven.