Three days later Nora was ready to get on the road to High Hrothgar. Eldawyn had been busy enchanting and offered her craft to the party for free. Nora wouldn't hear it, and insisted on paying now that she had the funds. So every mage in the party had a ring that increased their magicka and made it easier to cast Destruction spells. Everyone also had another ring that increased their healing rate and gave them more health, Nora wasn't sure she needed that, but Eldawyn had insisted that it would help even her.

 

Toccata and Sofia now sported sets of high-quality chain mail, enchanted in ways that would help them in their adventures. Lydia was wearing a set of ebony plate, given to her by one of the smiths in return for sending a message to a miner to send a shipment of corundum ore to Whiterun. Nora was glad the Housecarl was so garbed. Lydia was a good fighter, but sort of an arrow magnet, and ebony would be hard to penetrate. The Dragonborn went with light armor once again. While she had the strength to carry heavy plate she preferred being able to move.

 

Nora had a new shield that was enchanted to repel fire and shock, and a helm that would allow her to see in the dark. Toccata and Sofia, and even Eldawyn, also carried the same type of shield. And all had boots that muffled their sound and helped them better blend into the shadows. Every bow was also enchanted, using a very good base weapon to start. And swords and daggers had been bought from the Skyforge of Jorrvaskr, the best steel in Skyrim, and Eldawyn had given all of them damage enchantments. Recorder had refused any of the new equipment, and when Nora pressed her the woman admitted that she had some items given her by her Academy that performed many of the same actions. She was unclear on whether it was magic or technology, and Nora suspected it was something in between.

 

She still had her rifle and pistol, and decided this time to pack her grenade launcher along with them. She was hoping she wouldn't need to use them, since they might prove vital in the future. She had killed another dragon in her power armor, blasting it out of the sky with two rockets, which left her with five. She didn't want to use up the ammo of the lighter weapons either, but she would rather have them along and not need them, than have a great need for them and realize they were left behind.

 

They also had good winter gear, enchanted cloaks, fur lined tents, even hoods and gloves. Nora hadn't been sure they would need them, until Toccata had pointed her toward the Throat of the World mountain, with its snow-covered slopes. A storm was raging at the top, large enough to be visible from where they stood just outside of Whiterun.

 

“It looks like you are ready, Thane Nora,” had said Jarl Balgruuf, actually giving her a hug before they mounted up. “Have you decided which path your will take.”

 

There were two common ways to get to Ivarstead, the village at the base of the mountain. One involved going through a lot of snow and freezing temps, riding through a high pass. There were also vampires in the pass, and Nora decided she wanted nothing to do with them. The other had bandits, and dangerous wildlife, but no snow. That decided her.

 

“You will run into bandits right after you cross our border with Eastmarch. I would clear them out before you get to them, but that's Ulfric's land, and my troops are not welcome there.”

 

“That's okay. More loot. Yah.”

 

“You did well at Silver Moon Camp, but don't expect those kind of riches in every location.  Mostly you'll get some hard knocks and a very little bit of coin.”

 

“That's okay, Jarl,” she said, returning his hug. The man had grown on her, like a favorite uncle, and she thought she would miss him when she was away. Her intention was to come back here, soon, but things might not work out that way. “I'll take out the bandits as my payment to Skyrim for welcoming me.”

 

“Wish more of my people were so civic minded,” laughed the Jarl, releasing her.

 

Every one of the six had a horse, and they also had a pack animal for each of them.

 

“Maybe you'll get a chance to practice fireball,” said Eldawyn, looking over at Nora as she rode beside her.

 

“I hope so,” replied Nora, looking ahead. “I'm still not completely comfortable with it.”

 

Fireball was an adept level spell, one that a new mage wouldn't be expected to cast until a year into training. And she already had it in her repertoire. Of course, sometimes the ball exploded before it had traveled very far, and Nora recalled the pain of the burns she suffered. Healing magic took care of those, and the more advanced spells she had learned from Danica had worked wonders.

 

I'm really becoming a mage, she thought in wonder. While not in the same class as her two spellswords, and nowhere near to Eldawyn's capabilities, she could see a day when she surpassed them all. She already knew almost all the novice and apprentice level destruction spells, as well as quite a few of the ones in restoration. Only one from alteration, a couple from illusion, both schools which held her interest. And none from conjuration. That school still scared the hell out of her, but Elda had assured her it wasn't all calling demons. And she had to admit that flame atronachs were pretty damned cool.

 

*     *      *

 

It was mid-afternoon of the first day when they reached the Whiterun/Eastmarch border. It was a log palisade across the road, a wooden gate in the center. There were four towers, two with ladders up on the Whiterun side, two without. Nora guessed, from the identities of the guards in the towers, that the other two were entered from the other side. Two guards stood by the gate in the livery of Whiterun, watching them suspiciously as they rode forward.

 

“We need to check your belongings,” said one of the guards. “Make sure you're not smuggling weapons to Ulfric.”

 

Nora looked up at one of the Eastmarch guards, wearing a green livery with different symbols on the caps and surcoats. Nora looked over at Toccata, a local Nord and the woman she was depending on for regional knowledge.

 

“Show them your Thane amulet, quickly, then put it away.”

 

Nora had considered wearing the badge of office to help her along the road, but had thought it better to stay incognito instead. She reached inside her armor and tugged the amulet out, letting the guards see it before slipping it back.

 

“My apologies, Thane,” said the guard. “Here, let me get the gate for you.”

 

The guards pulled the gate open, then pounded on the other set revealed, which slowly opened as well. Nora didn't think this the best arrangement. If it were her she would have had two walls separated by a space.

 

“Your business?” asked the Eastmarch guard.

 

“I have relatives in Ivarstead,” said Toccata, using their agreed upon cover story. “My cousin is about to have a baby. And with the roads like they are, my friends are coming along to keep me safe.”

 

The guard looked them over for a moment, doubt on his face, then shrugged his shoulders. “Bandits ahead. Might be best to take the high road behind them.”

 

Nora looked over the Eastmarch longhouse on the way by, a duplicate of the one on the Whiterun side. There seemed to be a lot more men on this side, not all of them in the livery of their Jarl. Many were wearing blue surcoats over chain mail, the symbol of a bear head on their livery. All had shields with the exception of the few carrying two handed weapons or the archers. And most wore closed face helms.

 

“Are those Stormcloaks?” Nora asked as they rode on.

 

“Got it on the first try,” said Sofia, looking over at her with sad eyes. “They're the whole reason we have so many bandits.”

 

“They are not,” said Toccata, growling. “Ulfric is as much against bandits as any Jarl.”

 

“Yeah. But the civil war is keeping the guards too busy to deal with bandits,” explained Sofia.

 

“And if the Imperials would just leave we would have peace. I don't condone all of the Stormcloak methods, or their hatred of the mer. But Skyrim needs its Freedom.”

 

Nora recognized that she could have a civil war on her hands as well and spoke up to change the subject.

 

“Why in the hell are they letting bandits set up so close to the border. Surely they have enough men there to clean out any bandit nest.”

 

“Even that,” said Recorder, pointing ahead to where multiple towers rose above the trees. One tower was on the edge of the river, and high stone walkway reaching across the water to yet another spire.

 

“Change of plan,” said Nora, thinking of trying to take what was essentially a castle with who knew how many bandits. “Can we get around it?”

 

“There is a high road that bypasses it,” said Toccata, pointing to a winding path going up the mountain. “Sure to be some bandits up there as well.”

 

“But fewer than in the fort,” said Sofia, looking over at the other woman. “And not as much of a fortification.”

 

“Then high road it is,” said Nora, making her decision. “We hit them hard and fast after I send some fire into them, we blast through, and we head on down the path as fast as we can.”

 

They left and tethered their horses to some trees as soon as they got within earshot of the laughing bandits. Nora went a little further up the hill to get a look at the barrier. There were some spiked logs to block the path and a number of tents set up for the comfort of the bandits. Most of those were sitting around a fire, warming themselves. Nora unlimbered her rifle, making sure the suppressor was secure before scanning the road through the scope. She didn't like the suppressor all that much since it degraded the long-range accuracy of the rifle. For these targets, less than a hundred yards away, it would work.

 

She checked to make sure the rest of her people were moving into position, then took up a kneeling stance and picked her first target, a bandit off by himself relieving his bladder in the woods.

 

Nice to make your acquaintance, she thought as she squeezed the trigger, sending a 5.56mm round into his head, a quick and silent kill. She shifted aim to the one of the two at the barrier, tickling her trigger and sending that woman into the afterlife. The man beside her turned to stare for a moment, then looked around quickly and opened his mouth to shout. The round took him right in that open orifice, punching through his spine and dropping him limply to the ground.

 

“What was that?” called out one of the bandits by the fire, standing up.

 

Nora cursed and shifted aim. The rifle wasn't fully silenced. Suppressors didn't work like that, and it still made a short quiet bark. And one of the sharp eared bandits had heard it. Any second now they would realize some of their number were down.

 

You get the next, bastard, she thought, putting a round through that bandit's head. Spoil my plan will you?

 

The man went down and the other seven were on their feet, turning to see five screaming women running at them. A fireball flew from Eldawyn's hand, exploding in their midst, and four of them were set aflame. The other three ran out with smoldering cloaks, and two went down to the arrows of Recorder. Nora took the last through the head, and a second fireball finished the four screaming their pain by the fire.

 

Another bandit came out of a tent, blinking confused eyes at the scene in front of him. Lydia cut him down without mercy and the camp was theirs.

 

“We need to hurry,” said Nora, scrambling down the slope and making for the horses. “They'll probably have people hurry to block both ends of this path.”

 

They had been very quiet, but the sound of fireballs exploding would have had to have reached their fortress. She didn't know if these bandits had any mages, and had thought that Eldawyn should take out the bandits who were bunched up.

 

“Swords out as we ride,” said Nora as she mounted. “Be prepared to cut our way through.”

 

Five swords swished from sheaths, while Recorder retained her bow. The woman had proven to be an excellent horse archer, and Nora was willing to let her ply her bow from her mount.

 

Then a dragon appeared in the sky and everything changed.

*     *     *

“Boss,” yelled out a loud, high pitched voice. “Something's happening at the camp up the hill.”

 

“What now,” growled Gro-nush, the orcin chief of the Twin Tower bandits. He would have the head of the bastard who had disturbed his fun. He looked regretfully over at the Bosmer lass he had tied to the bed. He was anticipating hours of pain and pleasure. Her pain, his pleasure. The large orc pulled on his boots and snatched up his war hammer, deciding he wouldn't need his armor for what looked like an internal matter.

 

“Now, what’s this about...”

 

“It sounded like an exploding fireball in the distance. And Harald doesn't know that spell.”

 

So they had mages up there attacking his people. Well, he would have their heads on spikes.

 

“Round up a gang and get up there,” he roared, wondering why he had to do all the thinking. “And make sure to bring a couple of mages.”

 

He only had three magic users in the fortress and that would only leave one with him. Since he anticipated no trouble at the fortress, not with thirty heavily armed bandit warriors, that was not a problem.

 

“Dragon,” shouted a voice from one of the towers. “Fucking big blue bastard, headed right for us.”

 

Now that could be a problem.

*     *     *

Nora looked down on the fortress from the hill, and where the bandit leader saw disaster swooping down on him, the woman saw opportunity. If the dragon won it would be weakened. If the bandits won they would be weakened and disorganized. And she was in the perfect position to take advantage of either outcome.

 

The dragon swooped in, releasing a wave of cold that wilted the two archers on the bridge between a pair of towers. More arrows reached for it, some bouncing off, others sinking into the flesh between scales. A couple of mages entered the battle and it started to look like the dragon had made a mistake. It should have flown off and licked its wounds. But dragons weren't anything if they weren't prideful, and this one obviously thought it above the mortals it was attacking.

 

“Change of plan,” said Nora, looking over her party. “Toccata, Sofia and Recorder. Work your way down the path and sneak up on the fort entrance on that side. I'll take Lydia and Elda and sneak up on the other entrance. When a fireball explodes on one of the towers move in on the attack. Try to stay under cover and take them out from a distance.”

 

“Why are we doing this?” asked Sofia, a worried expression on her face. “Let the bandits and the dragon take care of each other while we get on down the road.”

 

“Because I am here to kill dragons,” said Nora, feeling a rush of anger at having her orders questioned and having to explain herself. The Minutemen would have obeyed her without question. These weren't Minutemen, though, but spellswords and an alien observer with their own agendas. Which included keeping themselves alive. “If the bandits kill that dragon it will just come back to life in a day or so and continue to menace this area. If the dragon wins? Well, it's free to ravage the countryside. But if I take its soul, then it's gone, forever.”

 

“I'm with you, my Thane,” said Lydia. The others hesitated for a second, all except Recorder, who seemed excited to get it stuck in. Finally she received head nods, and smiling nodded in return, then turned her horse to ride down the mountain.

 

The dragon was still flying when Nora's party reached the level of the fort. It was looking bad, blood covering its scales, but it was still sending cold into the bandits, taking its toll. As she watched it hit a mage that was sending ice spikes into it.

 

It's a frost dragon, you idiot, she thought, shaking her head. The mage should be sending fire or shock spells into the dragon. But maybe that was all she knew. Eldawyn had told her that some mages concentrated on a single element, to the detriment of others. Elda herself concentrated of fire, but she did know at least two spells from each of the other elements.

 

Nora had had been sneaking up on enemies for years. She had been making silent kills on Raiders long before she ever had any good stealth gear. The armor made it a little more difficult, but she was getting used to moving in it. And all of the bandits' attention was focused on the very large problem.

 

The archer never knew what was going on until a hand grabbed his hair and pulled back. Nora drew her monomolecular knife across the throat, then let the body fall, moving on. The dragon was just about finished, landing in the middle of the courtyard, barely able to keep its head up. It was surrounded by a dozen bandits, while the two remaining archers kept raining arrows down on it. Suddenly its head fell heavily to the ground and it breathed its last.

 

By that time Nora had her rifle in hand and was aiming in on the archers on the high walkway. A squeeze and one had gone to her afterlife, another and a Dunmer went to join his ancestors. A fireball landed in the middle of the bandits and six of them caught on fire. And the dragon started to smoke, while the force of its soul hit the Dragonborn.

 

Not now, she thought as the energy hit and the remaining six bandits came at her. Recorder took out one, Eldawyn another with a lightning bolt, and Nora pulled and held the trigger of her rifle, spitting out ten rounds a second for the remaining few she had before she dropped the rifle and let the quickening take her. She was lifted into the air, the incredible energy of the dragon soul infusing her every cell, while she wondered in a panic if all of the bandits were taken care of. Landing on her feet her body released some of the overflow in a blast that moved out ten feet to either side. And then it was over, and she looked over the dead bandits. Four had obviously been blasted down by her rifle, the rest by the combination of dragon and her people.

 

“I didn't know your weapon could do that?” said Eldawyn, bending down to pick up the rifle, turning it over in her hands.

 

“I can't do that often. Not if I don't want to run out of ammo. But yes, it does come in handy sometimes.” She recalled all of the death claws and behemoths she had gunned down as a last resort, sending most of the hundred round drum into them. She had fired most of what remained in a drum in that burst, and only had two more. After that the gun was nothing more than a curiosity to hang on the wall, unless the alchemists came through.

 

“You could take down an army with this thing,” said Eldawyn in a hushed voice, handing the weapon over. “But it looks like this bandit gang is finished. And you sucked up that dragon soul.”

 

“I have to watch it,” said Nora, letting out a sigh. “I'm helpless when the energy moves into me. If that happens while I'm being attacked that might be the end of me.”

 

“Then we'll have to make sure you're guarded when that happens,” said Lydia, walking up to her Thane. “Of keep you away from the body until the fight is over.”

 

“Thank you, Housecarl. That's good thinking. Now let’s see what we can get out of this place.”

 

There was loot. Potions and gems and piles of gold, really more than they could handle. And weapons and armor, though nothing as good as what they had, with the exception of the set of Glacial plate.

 

“You should think about wearing that, Dragonborn,” said Recorder, picking up the helmet. “It will give you a lot more protection.”

 

“I'm a stealth warrior,” said Nora, shaking her head. “I need to move silently.”

 

“Still, take it,” said Lydia, pulling the boots off a large Orc who hadn't fully armored up before going to battle. “You may change your mind later, and these are hard to come by.”

“Very well,” said Nora, taking the helmet from Recorder. It was a very hard armor, and much lighter than she expected. She would have it sized and try it, and if she could move quietly in it she might consider using it.

 

They found the Bosmer woman tied to a bed in one of the upper rooms of a tower. The woman was alive, scared out of her wits, and sporting a number of shallow cuts, along with numerous bruises. Nora sent healing magic into her, taking care of the cuts, but there was nothing they could do for her mental state. They clothed her, gave her some food, and sent her on her way toward the border fort. If her kind weren't welcome in Eastmarch she could probably find shelter in Whiterun.

 

“By the gods,” cursed Eldawyn when they had followed the stench in one tower to the basement. And found scores of bodies, all young women, horrible mutilated, in most cases well into decay.

 

“I'm going to kill every one of the bastards,” growled Nora. “And I don't care if some of them had no other choice. This is an evil I can understand, and I will not stand for it.”

 

They spent the night in the woods a couple of miles down the road. There had been furs in warm rooms in the fortress, but Nora refused to spend the night in the cursed place. The nightmares she endured that night showed that the curse was in her mind, and that there was no way to escape it.

 

*     *     *

 

The next day they saw their first signs of the civil war that had come to Skyrim. Bodies on the road, men, women and dogs. Most of them were naked and sporting terrible wounds from sword or arrow. Some armor pieces had been left behind, a helmet here, a shield there, Imperial. There was one Stormcloak shield, but nothing else.

 

“The Stormcloaks won this fight,” said Toccata, satisfaction in her voice that earned her a glare from Sofia. Nora recognized that the rivalry was a growing problem, and she might have to ask one or both of them to leave.

 

“How do you know?” asked Recorder, always on the hunt for information.

“The bodies are those of Imperials, Bretons and Redguard, with very few Nords,” said Toccata, motioning toward the bodies. “The Stormcloaks would be mostly Nords, though some freedom loving people from other kingdoms also join the fight.”

 

“Which I can't understand,” said Sofia, shaking her head. “The Stormcloaks are racist bastards.”

 

“I'm not...”

 

“Enough,” shouted Nora, a hint of danger in her tone. “We are not in this thing. If you want to go support either side, then leave. We are here to kill bandits and dragons, not to fight a civil war. I know from history that they are never easy, and I'm not about to fight one within my party. I would rather have a smaller party than have to worry about a fight breaking out in my unit.”

 

“You have my loyalty, Dragonborn,” said Toccata, bowing her head. She looked over at Sofia.

 

“I want to travel with you. If it means keeping silent about my loyalties in this war, so be it.”

 

“You had civil wars on your planet?” asked Eldawyn, her eyes lit with curiosity.

 

“Many, though not in recent history. My own nation had one four hundred years ago, and almost seven hundred thousand people were killed. The one in Russia later on killed several million. Never easy, when brother fights brother, families split apart by loyalties to conflicting ideologies.”

 

“Several million,” said Toccata with a whistle. “That's many times more than live in Skyrim.”

 

“So you won't have a million,” said Nora, looking at the woman with a sorrowful expression. “But too many will die. Families will be broken up; starvation will stalk the land. And the bandits will flourish.”

 

Nora knew that she couldn’t do anything about this war right now. She had too many other things to do. But one day she might have to pick a side and help to end it.