I had visited Solitude once in my previous life, but it was during that time when I was partially hopped up on Molly, so I didn’t remember much about the place. It turns out to be the Skyrim equivalent of New York City or Paris - an exterior of glitz and glam covering an underbelly of poverty and darkness. “Cosmopolitan,” is the word for it on Earth.

 

When we got there, Lane went off to the local Dibellan temple, Kellan went off to procure us rooms at the inn, and I went off to join the army.

 

God, what a mistake.

 

All right, to be fair, it was probably necessary. But Jesus.

 

Anyway. I headed up the ramp to Castle Dour and presented myself to the guards as a new recruit. They grunted and jerked their heads toward a table. Or, rather, toward the line of recruits queued up at said table. The courtyard was huge, easily the length of a football field (except round, not rectangular), and the line ran along about a third of the wall (including directly behind the straw targets currently in use for archery practice. That seemed safe).

 

"Um...isn't there any other way? I'm kind of in a hurry."

 

They laughed. Which, of course they did. I would have done the same, in their position. 

 

"So eager to die, are ya?" The first guard motioned toward a nearby door. "In that case, try in there. They're looking for people with...skills that might not translate to the normal soldier's life."

 

 "That sounds perfect, tha..."

 

"That's if you don't die during the trial, of course."

 

Oh right! The…Kiss Thacki. Or whatever it was called. I had forgotten all about it. My nerves shot up – I felt unprepared for what might be a life-or-death battle. I glanced at the door, then at the line, then back at the door. "Well, I don't think I have much choice."

 

"As I expected." The guard moved aside, leaving me a path to the queue. He seemed surprised when I went the other direction. "Wait, you're not really..."

 

"I told you, I don't have that kind of time." I stepped past them, mentally willing my shaking knees not to give out as I walked toward the door. I heard one of them say, "Bloody waste of good pus..." just as the door shut behind me.

 

The corridor was dimly lit - torches were in limited supply, apparently - but the clanging of metal against metal and the shouting of voices was enough to guide me to a large room, this one better lit. I entered just in time to see a man get a sword through his eye. The woman standing on the less-pointy side of the sword shook her head as the man slumped to the ground.

 

"I thought you said you were a master swordsman. Fool." She gestured. "Clean this up."

 

Two soldiers snapped salutes and grabbed the dead man by the arms and dragged him toward the door. I stood aside to let them pass, which brought the woman's attention to me. She sighed "Another one? Go stand in line. You're too young to die today."

 

"I don't have time for that, I'm afraid. I need this war to end as quickly as possible."

 

She laughed. "On that, we are in agreement. It has lasted far too long. But your words are a curiosity to me - everyone wants the war to end. Why is your purpose so much more urgent than anyone else's?"

 

"Isn't it obvious? To get rid of the dragons. Why is the war still on when there is a bigger threat to everyone?"

 

"Everyone?" She seemed surprised. "There have been reports of three, maybe four of them, and those are unconfirmed. Even if it’s true, maybe the people in Skyrim are in some danger. The rest of Tamriel is not."

 

"No danger? How can you say that?"

 

"Because it is true. The dragons are annoying, I do not disagree. But they have been shown to be killable. We'll just continue to kill them as they show up."

 

"That is ludicrous! You know they are coming back to life every time you kill them, don't you?"

 

"Coming back to life? You are the one who sounds ludicrous. No," as I started to speak again. "I do not have time for this. I appreciate your willingness to volunteer to fight for the Empire, but you don't look like a warrior. I can offer you a job as a cook or something, if you wish."

 

"No, I'm here to fight. To end..."

 

"Fine, if you insist. Then go back outside and get in line. Don't say I didn't warn you."

 

"No, I’m here to be in the…um…kiss…”

 

“The Keṣ Tshaâki." She frowned. "Yes, that is the purpose of this. But you..."

 

"I can help. Give me your trial, or whatever." I just kept myself from glancing down at the path of blood left from her recent victim.

 

She stood still for several long seconds and just stared at me. I stared back, though it made my skin itch - I dearly wanted to turn away. At last, she shrugged and lifted her still-bloody sword.

 

"Fine. Your funeral. Although it will be less of a funeral and more of a mass burning."

 

"That's fine. I'm kind of tired of this place anyway.” I pulled off my rug, trying very hard to ignore her newly even-more-focused stare. Then I realized something. “Um…it is all right if I use this?" I pointed at a sword on the ground, presumably the one used by the victim before me.

 

She laughed. “You came without a weapon?”

 

“Well, this stupid place seems to frown on women with weapons.”

 

“Ah. So you don’t even have a weapon license. You have made me curious, I admit.” She motioned at the sword. “Feel free.”

 

“Thank you.” I picked up the sword and squatted into the stance Kellan had taught me.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

"Absolutely. Whenever you are."

 

She shrugged. "Very well."

 

She circled me with a wary expression; she was not so stupid as to assume my idiot façade wasn't hiding true skill. The joke was on her, of course – my idiot façade was not a façade at all; I had no true skill, just a couple of stupid dragon words.

 

So I pivoted to keep her in my field of view as I whispered, “Feim Zii Gron..."

 

Oh, right. I should probably interrupt to tell you that I had two active words at that point. Not because we did anything special like kill another dragon - it was because we happened to stumble upon the dead body of a dragon...or, rather, the general area where a dragon had died. See, we were walking along through the hills about a half-day's travel east of Dragon Bridge when the wind hit me out of nowhere and I orgasmed right in the middle of the fucking road while a group of merchants gawked. When it was done, I had my Ghost Shout and a very wet set of armor. We didn't go looking for the dragon's body, but it had to be around there somewhere.

 

Anway. So I kept whispering my new Shout (or Whisper, I guess, in this case) over and over. The ethereal-ness of the Shout was very short term – less than ten seconds – so I kept it continually refreshed. The last thing I needed was to have it wear out just as she struck.

 

Of course, I wasn’t completely sure this tactic would work. I didn’t think there was a delay between words or some kind of cooldown period before I could use the same one again, like some stupid video game. In retrospect, I probably should have tested that out with Kellan beforehand. See? No façade to my idiocy.

 

Instead, I had luck. At least in this one instance – I can’t say I’ve been lucky for much of my time in Skyrim. The woman stepped forward with a move quick enough that I didn’t even realize she had moved until her sword passed through me. My brain caught up just in time to take advantage of her momentarily stunned reaction and I Shouted (and shouted) my other word: “Fus Ro Dah!”

 

It was not at full power, of course, but it was enough to make her stumble backward three steps. I followed up, slapping her hand that still gripped her sword with the flat of mine before she could recover, then, as her sword clattered to the floor, I stuck the pointy end of mine toward her face.

 

She looked at it, then looked up at me. "What kind of magic was that?"

 

"Not magic. A shout. I am the Dragonborn." I winced inwardly as the words left my mouth - it felt so pretentious. Especially when she simply frowned at my pronouncement as she pushed my sword away with an irritable gesture. "I would love to believe that. As a Nord, I truly would. Whatever the case, I see that I underestimated you. I apologize. I am Legate Rikke. Welcome to the Imperial Legion."

 

Don't feed the bastards. Feed yourself instead.

 

 

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