Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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Re: M!DB/Gwilin - "Underdressed" (3/3)

[(Anonymous)]

“Mage.” Calmerion twiddled his fingers for emphasis.

“Eh, should have guessed that. Still, you’re not dressed for the trip, elf. You should go home.” The hunter continued down the hill. Go home. If only it was that simple.

“Did you hear the Greybeards call ‘Dovahkiin’?” Calmerion said.

“Yeah. Strange.”

“That was me they were calling.”

The man stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “You? The Greybeards were calling you?” He sounded shocked, but not wholly unpleasant, Calmerion was relieved to note. He was shocked, too. Still shocked, though he should have adjusted by now.

Would he ever adjust? Or was trying to make sense of life an exercise in futility? After all that had happened recently, he was inclined to believe the latter.

“Yes. I’m… Dovahkiin.” It sounded so pathetic when he said it. Maybe the word didn’t have the same gravitas in a Summerset accent, or maybe it was just him.

“Huh.” The hunter seemed to hesitate. Then he tossed a rolled-up cloak at him. “You’re still going to freeze. Take this. Watch out for animals.”

“Thank you,” Calmerion said, but the man was already walking away.

He kept going.

There was a stream running alongside the path as he continued up higher, further away from Ivarstead and the people going about their daily tasks in the mountain’s shadow. He paused for a moment to drink some water and splash a little into his face. It was ice-cold, just like the air as he kept climbing upward, and he was grateful for the cloak. His legs, already sore from riding, burned steadily as the number of stairs mounted. He was sure they’d already passed seven thousand. No trolls yet, but he kept a spell ready in his right hand just in case.

As much as he was loath to admit it, the view was… quite something. The clear, cool mountain air made it all sharper. It was almost intimately familiar, even though he’d spent most of his life in heat and humidity, surrounded by lush greenery and flowers without number. Looking out at Skyrim, at its crags and frosted woods and the sky that never seemed to end, for the first time, he really saw its beauty.

At least, he saw its beauty until he crossed another traveler.
Her eyes narrowed when he approached. “What’s your business here, elf?”

“Climbing the mountain, obviously,” he replied in the same attitude.

“These are the Seven Thousand Steps. You probably don’t know what that means. Show respect while you’re walking them.”

He felt a sneer tugging at the corner of his nose, but forced his face back into a neutral expression. “You didn’t hear the Greybeards call ‘Dovahkiin,’ did you?”

“Of course I did. Everyone heard it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s me. They were calling me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, they were.” Not that Calmerion cared what she thought about him, or what she believed he was doing. “But I know what the steps are, and what High Hrothgar is. I’m going to see the Greybeards.”

She looked him up and down. “You look more like you’re trying to find your way home from the whorehouse,” she said. Calmerion didn’t have time to protest her assumption before she waved her hand and kept walking down the path. “Well, Talos guide you, whoever you are.”

His first response was “your false human god can’t guide anything,” but he swallowed it and just nodded stiffly before drawing his cloak around himself and walking away.