I'm Really Not the Dragonborn.

"A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?" Farengar shoots out questions like a gleeful child.

"I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it. Let's go." said the female Dunmer. 

"Am I allowed to bring my companion too? He has been since Helgen." Harin said, gesturing to Ibnor.

"Can you vouch for him?" 

"Yes."

"Any harm caused by his action will be on you and you will be held accountable. If that is clear, let's go."

They followed the female Dunmer up the Dragonsreach, into the study chamber of Jarl Balgruuf. A young guard trailed behind them in a laboured breath.

"Take a deep breath, son." said Jarl Balgruuf.

"Yes, my lord." The young guard took a deep breath and exhaled a few times. 

"So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower?" the Jarl asked.

"Uh… that's right. We saw it coming from the south. It was fast… Faster than anything I've ever seen."

"What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?"

"No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life… I thought it would come after me for sure."

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it." The Jarl then turns to the female Dunmer. "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate." Irileth replied.

"Good. Don't fail me."

"I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon." Farengar interject. 

"No. I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons." Jarl Balgruuf firmly said. 

"As you command," the court's wizard answered, knowing that the Jarl won't change his mind and he also sees the rationality behind the decision. 

"One last thing, Irileth. This isn't a death or glory mission. I need to know what we're dealing with." Jarl Balgruuf gave the Dunmer a reminder.

"Don't worry my lord. I'm the very soul of caution." Irileth put a hand on her chest and gave a bow. She then turned around and walked out. 

"Who might you be?" Jarl Bargruuf asked Ibnor. 

"He is my companion. We survived Helgen together." Harin answered.

"So, you were at Helgen? You saw the dragon too?"

"Yes. I had a great view while the Imperials were trying to cut off my head." Ibnor replied sarcastically. 

"Really? You are certainly… Forthright about your criminal past. But it's none of my concern who the Imperials want to execute. Especially now. What I want to know is how to deal with the dragons." the Jarl said.

"There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend." The Jarl said to Harin. "I need your help again. I want both of you to go with Irileth and help her fight this… Dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city. And please accept this gift from my personal armory." Jarl Balgruuf hands Harin an enchanted steel sword.

"This sword is called Blade of Whiterun. It should serve as your badge of office. Help Irileth kill this dragon before it can attack Whiterun."

"We'll take our leave then." Ibnor said.

They went out of the Dragonsreach and headed towards the main gate. Once they reach the main gate, Irileth can be seen in front of the gathered guards.

"Here's the situation. A dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower." Irileth begins.

"Now we're in for it."

"A dragon?

"We are so dead.."

The revelations caused the guards to start clamoring.

"You heard right! I said a dragon! I don't much care where it came from or who sent it. What I do know is that it made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!" Irileth said.

"But Housecarl… How can we fight a dragon?" asked one of the guards.

"That's a fair question. None of us ever seen a dragon before, or expected to face one in battle. But we are honorbound to fight it, even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes, our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you ran from this monster? Are you going to let me face this thing alone?"

"No, Housecarl!"

"But it's more than our honor at stake here. Think of it… The first dragon seen inSkyrim since the last age. The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! Now what do you say? Shall we go kill us a dragon?" Irileth riled up the guards.

"Yeah!"

"We're with you!" 

The guards answered enthusiastically. 

"Let's move out!" Irileth gives the command. The guards fall in line and begin marching out the main gate in an orderly manner. Harin and Ibnor joined them and moved beside Irileth.

"Be careful. We need to find out what happened there." Irileth said.

They keep running down the road, only to stop at a large rock a few hundreds feet east of the watchtower, where they use the large rock as a cover. The Western Watchtower is now a shadow of its former self. Fallen rubbles scattered around with hollowed walls. Burnts corpses strewn across the charred remains of a wooden hut. Irileth observes the distant watchtower for a while before turning to her men for a short briefing. 

"No sign of the dragon right now, but it sure looks like it's been here. I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is still skulking around somewhere. Spread out and look for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with."

The guards unsheath their weapons and began moving towards the watchtower carefully. As they arrive at the watchtower, a disheveled guard hiding on the destroyed bridge shouts a warning to them.

"No! get back! It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

"Guardsmen! What happened here? Where's this dragon? Quickly now!" Irileth asked.

"I don't know!" the guard answered, too traumatized to think straight. 

ROAR!

A loud roar reverberates as a dragon comes flying. 

"Here it comes! Archers find cover and make every arrow count!" Irileth quickly shouts orders in an attempt of organization.

The small squad of guards stood their ground, their faces etched with determination and fear. Before them, a fearsome dragon, its scales shimmering like obsidian, loomed over the field. Its fiery breath scorched the earth, and its menacing roar echoed through the plains.

Irileth raised her sword, signaling the start of the battle. The guards, armed with shields, swords, axes, and bows, charged towards the dragon, their courage fueled by the desperate need to survive.

Harin, with her keen eyes and nimble fingers, loosed a volley of arrows at the dragon, aiming for its vulnerable eyes. The arrows pierced the air, striking the dragon's scales, but the beast was too large and too well-armored to be felled by such a simple attack.

Ibnor, with his trusted dagger, charged towards the dragon, his muscles bulging. He pierced his dagger with all his might, but the dragon's thick hide was impervious to his blows. With a flap of its wing, it soared into the air once more. 

Harin charged her spells and cast a fireball at the dragon, hoping to weaken its defenses. The fireball struck the dragon's wing, but the damage was negligible.

The dragon unleashed a torrent of fire, engulfing the guards in a wall of flames. Irileth, shielding her men, shouted orders, her voices barely audible above the roar of the dragon and the crackling of the fire.

One by one, the guards fell, their bodies consumed by the dragon's fiery breath. Harin, high on adrenaline, charged towards the dragon, her eyes burning with ferocity.

The dragon swooped down, its claws outstretched. Harin, with a swift movement, dodged the attack, her sword flashing in the air. Harin retreated to a safe distance and cast the Sparks spell. Electricity zaps the dragon, annoying it. 

The dragon then lunged at her, its claws glinting dangerously. Harin, just as the dragon was about to reach her, produced a spell scroll and activated it. A powerful blast of fire erupted from the scroll, striking the dragon's chest.

The dragon, stunned by the attack, staggered back, its scales smoking. The remaining guards, seeing their chance, attacked the dragon with renewed vigor. Some fired a volley of arrows at the dragon, while the others charged with their weapons.

The dragon, enraged, spat a powerful blast of fire, sending Irileth and a few other guards flying backwards. Ibnor, who was also caught up in the blast radius, managed to land on his feet. Irileth stood right back up and wiped the blood from her lips, her eyes filled with renewed determination. She knew that in order to save her men, the dragon must be defeated. With a battle cry, she charged towards the dragon, her sword ready to strike.

The dragon, taking notice of Irileth's advances, met her with a powerful blow. Ibnor, with a swift movement, parried the attack, gritting his teeth, clashing against the dragon's tail.

The battle raged on, the dragon, Irileth, Harin and Ibnor locked in a deadly dance. Ibnor, using his agility and skill, managed to land a few blows on the dragon, but the dragon's strength and size were too much for him.

Harin charged towards the dragon, her sword ready to strike. The dragon, alerted by the danger, lets out another powerful blast of fire. With graceful agility, Harin dodged the attack, her sword flashing in the air, counter attacking. She then moved around the back and leaped onto the dragon's back, her sword aimed at the dragon's neck.

The dragon, sensing the threat, tried to shake Harin off, but she held on tight. By the efforts of Irileth and Ibnor, the dragon is distracted enough to pay full attention towards Harin. With a final, powerful blow, Harin struck the dragon's neck, ending its rampage.

The dragon's body fell to the ground, its scales shimmering in the sunlight. The guards, who had been watching the battle, cheered and their voices echoing through the field.

Harin, exhausted but victorious, stood on the dragon's back, her sword raised high. Out of steam, she fell down but Ibnor managed to catch her.

Suddenly the dragon body starts to glow and dissolve into magic particles, leaving only the skin and bones. Harin began to float up and threads of lights from the dragon body encapsulated her before entering her body.

"Everybody get back!" Irileth commands a caution. 

Ibnor notices colored balls dropping from the dragon and begins collecting them discreetly, while everyone else is distracted by the phenomenon caused by Harin.

[Strength +1.3]

[Agility + 1.4]

[Physique +1.1]

[Strength +1.1]

[Physique +1.5]

[Agility + 1.2]

When the last thread of lights disappeared into Harin's body, she opened her eyes. Annoyed by her hair that stuck on her lips, she accidentally let out a Shout.

"FUS!" 

The Shout pushed all the surrounding guards gently. This surprised everyone around. After some deliberation, a guard walked up to her.

"You… must be Dragonborn!"

"Dragonborn? What are you talking about?" another guard asked as he approached them.

"That's right! My grandfather used to tell stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself." another guard added.

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons" the second guard argued.

"There weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in… Forever." the first guard retorted. 

"But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power. You must be one!" the third guard said.

"What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet." said a fourth guard. 

"Come on, Irileth. Tell us, do you believe in this Dragonborn business?" asked the second guard.

Irileth slowly came out of her resting place while she was listening to the conversation. She scrutinized the remains of the dragon before answering her men.

"Hmph. Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about. Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."

"You would understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord." said the first guard.

"I've been all across Tamriel. I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your swords over tales and legends." Irileth said before turning to Harin. 

"That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in and I've been in more than a few. I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm sure glad you're with us. You better get back to Whiterun right away. Jarl Balgruuf will want to know what happened here."

"Alright, take care." Harin replied. Harin and Ibnor make their way to Whiterun. When the gate of Whiterun is in sight, suddenly the sky changes and dark clouds gather. Thundering voices boom out like a thunderclap, reverberating across the sky.

"DO… VAH… KIIN!!"

"What the fuck was that?" Harin asked, stunned.

"They are aware of you now."

"Who?"

"The Greybeards."

"The what, now?"

"The Greybeards. They are the masters of The Way of the Voice. Of Shouting. They live on High Hrothgar, at the top of the mountain known as the Throat of the World. Now that they have noticed you, they will want to talk to you. In the old stories, they always summon the Dragonborn for training."

"Why would they do that?"

"The Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted in the Voice, the ability to focus your vital essence or Shout."

As Ibnor explains further on the Dragonborn and The Greybeards topic, they reach the Dragonsreach. As they enter the hall, Jarl Balgruuf is having a conversation with his two advisors.

"You heard the summons. What else could it mean? The Greybeards…" Jarl Balgruuf stopped when Harin and Ibnor approached him. He turned to them and asked. "So, what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?"

"The watchtower was destroyed, but we killed the dragon," Ibnor answered.

"I knew I could count on Irileth. But there must be more to it than that."

"Turns out I may be something called "Dragonborn" Harin said.

"Dragonborn? What do you know about the Dragon born?"

Harin looked at Ibnor and he nodded his head. This brief exchange was noticed by the Jarl.

"When the dragon died, I absorbed some kind of power from it." Harin said.

"So it's true. The Greybeards really were summoning you."

"What does it mean to be the Dragonborn?" Harin asked. 

"Well, in the old tales, the Dragonborn heroes would use the power of their voice to defeat the enemies of Skyrim. Wulfharth was Dragonborn. Talos, too. The founder of the Empire, back in the good old days. In the very oldest tales, back from when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power." said Jarl Balgruuf. "If you really are the Dragonborn, the Greybeards can teach you how to use your gift."

"Didn't you hear the thundering sound as you return to Whiterun? That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar! This hasn't happened in… Centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned when he was still Talos of Atmora!" one of the Jarl advisors said. 

"Hrongar, calm yourself. What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here? Capable as she maybe, I don't see any signs of her being this, what… Dragonborn." said the other advisor.

"Nord nonsense?! Why, you puffed-up ignorant… These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the First Empire!" Hrongar glares at the second advisor.

"Hrongar. Don't be so hard on Avenicci." Jarl Balgruuf said.

"I mean no disrespect, of course. It's just that… What do these Greybeards want with her?" said Avenicci.

"That's the Greybeards business, not ours." said Jarl Balgruuf. He then turned to Harin. "Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're a Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There is no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor. I envy you, you know. To climb the 7000 Steps again… I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that? High Hrothgar is a very peaceful place. Very… Disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder if the Greybeards even notice what's going down here. They haven't seemed to care before. No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you."

"You've done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl. I will also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn." The Jarl turned to Ibnor.

"I haven't forgotten about you my friend. I'm sure your contribution is no less than your companion. Tell me, what reward do you wish for? I will grant it as long as it is within my power."

"I only require one thing, Jarl Balgruuf."

"Oh, what is it, my friend?" the Jarl asked, feeling intrigue.

"I require your vote in the moot." Ibnor answer. All eyes are on him once the words left his mouth. The implication of his request is staggering. 

"The only vacant place is Helgen, but it is under Falkreath. Siddgeir won't be happy about this."

"Just as Maven Black-Briar has her way, I have my own. You need not worry about it." Ibnor reply. Jarl Balgruuf only raised an eyebrow for that. 

"Fair enough. I give you my word, that you'll have my vote. Will that be all?"

"That is more than what I could ask for. Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf. We will take our leave now."