bookpower Chapter 346: Chapter LXIX: Stormcrowned
Chapter 346: Chapter LXIX: Stormcrowned
Chapter 346: Chapter LXIX: Stormcrowned
Arngeir, eye still twitching, takes a long fortifying breath before looking back up at me "I was doing quite well thank you for asking." He mutters with false politeness before settling into a frustrated glare "That is until someone decided it would be immensely entertaining to them to have a dragon land before the halls of High Hrothgar!"
"Dragon?" I ask and look around as if lost "What dragon?"
His glare becomes even dryer somehow "And then, to make things even worse, the dragon decided to take years off my life by calling you his master."
"Krein can be cheeky like that." I grin.
Arngeir huffs "I am sure he is the cheeky one." He shakes his head and decides to stop giving me openings to frustrate him further, straightening himself and turning to Minthara he spoke "Dragonborn, I trust that you have returned with the horn?"
She fiddles with the back of her belt before pulling it out "It was a chore but I got it."
"Yes." Arngeir mutters "For someone of your power I have no doubts the old test would be more than a light walk. Still, I feel the need to ask, were there any difficulties in getting it?"
"Well, there was this one dragon waiting for us outside." Minthara hums before shrugging "Died real quick when I used the horn though."
"You... used the horn?" Arngeir blinks in surprise.
"Was I not supposed to?" She tilts her head "It seemed really eager to be used."
"That thing has actual power?" I focus on the supposed trinket and immediately extend my hand "Gimme."
Arngeir begins to sputter about treating a relic with more respect but Minthara wastes no time in tossing it to me. I look over the enchantments, humming all the while, before slowly nodding to myself "Yep, the usual Dovahzul scheme if a bit more complex, far too inefficient power wise but still damn useful if you can get it to work."
"Inefficient?!" Arngeir continues voicing his indignance "Young man, that is the relic of the founder of our order, not some toy for you to examine!"
"And the founder of your order was a warmongering conqueror before he got his ass handed to him." I shrug with a light grin, giving the horn back to Minthara "No point sputtering denials about it old man, it is a useful tool and should be treated as such."
"Of course your irreverence would still somehow manage to surprise me." He shakes his head, a lot of the previous heat suddenly missing "We were not even aware the horn could grant anything but the insight into storms it gave each of us when we finished our trials."
"I did say it seemed almost eager to be used." Minthara notes "Could it be that Jurgen Windcaller prepared it for a Dragonborn all those years ago?"
"Hmm." Arngeir turns silent and tugs at his beard in thought briefly before shaking his head "I do not believe the criteria is merely being Dragonborn, or else Hjalti Early-Beard would have taken its power all those centuries ago."
"The soul held within does feel pretty powerful." I point out "It could be that Jurgen imbued the artifact with the intent of aiding us against the prophecy and it just activated due to the number of dragons flapping about." It could have just been Minthara actually eating dragonsouls unlike Talos but I did feel I should throw ole' Arngeir a bone for once.
And my words seemed to have worked as the man almost preened with pride at the idea "Our founder was certainly wise enough to foresee its need." He turns to Minthara with a serious look "Since the horn asks to be used I would be remiss to request you follow tradition and return it to its resting place. Use it well, and use it wisely."
"I will not dishonor it by doing otherwise." She inclines her head.
"Shouldn't you ask your fellow old men first?" I raise an eyebrow "I am not sure all of them are as... agreeable as you."
His eye twitches but to my mild surprise his expression suddenly turns smug "We are a brotherhood and of one mind in these matters. Besides, my brothers have been present this entire time." And as he speaks the air next to him shimmers, revealing a trio of old men I could not sense moments prior.
I let out an amused chuckle, noting to myself that I should up my passive perception when dealing with them, and offer them a bow "You are a very scary bunch of old farts."
The eldest among them, Bori, joins me in my amusement, giggling like an old fool.
The other two merely shake their heads, even as thin smirks make their beards twitch ever so slightly.
"Now, I do believe we have been standing off for long enough." Arngeir speaks up after a moment and waves for us to enter the temple "High Hrothgar welcomes you both." Raising my eyebrow at the lack of their previous hostility I decide I didn't really care and begin following them, Minthara hesitating for but a moment longer before doing so as well. Food and drink offered and accepted, we were invited into a stony room I recognized as the one from the truce conference would be held in a different timeline and as we settled in Arngeir asked Minthara for a retelling of her pilgrimage.
Things went well to start with but after she got to the tomb and the dispatched necromancers the Greybeard began asking her about the trials and the murals surrounding them, how she interpreted their messages and how they led her toward the completion of her task.
When she asked him "What murals?" With a dumbfounded look the man looked so crushed I burst out laughing, Bori, the mad coot, joining me eagerly while the other two barely held themselves back from speaking up.
"How did you know to pass the gates then?" Arngeir asks almost pleadingly.
Minthara gives him a dumbfounded look "The gates opened when I walked up to the enchanted stones and closed when I made some distance, it was obvious I just needed to move
Still a bit taken with the ceremony, Minthara foregoes any quips and bows solemnly "You
have my thanks, masters."
All of the Greybeards offer bows and a newfound air of mutual respect slowly forms between
all of them.
A perfect opportunity, if I do say so myself.
"Cute as all of this is." I stand up, drawing immediate attention and the usual indignation
that followed me being my most charming self "I do believe it was time you sent us on our way to meet with Paarthurnax."
The Greybeards tense, even Arngeir seemingly losing his usual tolerance for my bullshit as he
faced me, but that same tension was promptly broken by Borri, who chuckled at my audacity
and spoke to his brothers in a rasp that could barely be called a whisper "Who are we to hold back such an earnest petition?" He asks them with humor.
Einarth, still a bit shaken looks at him with surprise "But brother, what if they harm the
master?" "Harm?" Borri raises an eyebrow "Are you so blind, brother mine, that you did not see the dragon they came with? They desire to speak and we have no right to stop them."
"Excuse me." Minthara clears her throat "Who exactly is this Paarthurnax?" Her eyes narrow
"The name sounds suspiciously draconic."
"That is because it is." Arngeir sighs "Very well then, it was bound to happen sooner rather
than later." He begins to walk "Follow me outside and we will send you on the path to the leader of our order."
As we follow the monks Minthara elbows my side "A dragon leads the Greybeards?" She hisses quietly. "Fitting, no?" I grin "Don't worry though, he is to be trusted."
"I will believe it when I see it." She mutters, a newfound decisiveness in her eyes.
"Ascend the mountain and seek the master's wisdom." Arngier offers his goodbyes "The Greybeards will pray you find the answers you seek."
We both nod and turn to the raging storm of ice baring the path forward. I give Minthara a
look and she takes a long breath.
Then she shouts "LOK VAH KOOR!"
The storm abates, and our path is open.
A/n: The Greybeards speech: Long has the Storm Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit
upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in
the name of Atmora of old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it.
Waves hand like an idiot
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