Chapter 220: A Small Detour III
I kneel down, wrenching the crown from the old High King's head as I polish the dust and age from it, revealing the dragon teeth used to craft it.
*Whistle*
"That is one intimidating crown my friend, but I don't think I'd ever wear something that has been on a dead person for so long, especially a draugr." Inigo says as he stares down at it in my hands.
"Yeah, I'll probably get it professionally cleaned if I can... Where would you go to get something like this cleaned anyways?" I ask to Inigo as much as myself.
"Hmmm, I remember seeing some paper in a tavern recruiting adventurers for a museum opening up in Solitude? If any place would have the tools to clean that thing, I'm sure it would be them." Inigo says as he starts to loot the rest of the room.
"That's not a bad idea, we've got some guild business there anyways... After we take care of escorting Serana back home... And deal with whatever's happening in Whiterun... Divines, we're busy." I say with a sigh as I head towards the word wall.
"Yes, we're being run like dogs... Well... You are, at least." Inigo says with a snicker.
"Ha, ha, very funny." I tell him with a roll of my eyes.
I hear faint chanting as I get closer to the word wall.
As I get closer I can see the writing across the wall glow as the meaning is made clear.
[Tiid, Klo, Ul - Time, Sand, Eternity]
[Vegunthar raised this stone in his father's memory, Hungunthar Time-Eater, slayer of the Kings of the East, conqueror of Dunkreath.]
[Here fell mighty Warlord Aaban Child of the sands of Alik'r; rest now in the soil of Skyrim.]
[This stone commemorates the warriors of the black regiment whose souls now march in the plains of Sovngarde for all eternity.]
"Does it say anything interesting, my friend?" Inigo asks as I think on the story this stone tells.
"Yeah, it's a story about a king with the ability to slow time and his defeat of a foreign warlord." I explain to him as we make our way out of the tomb with our haul.
When we get outside the tomb we meet up with Serana who was still resting up in a tree like a cat. Looking out across the horizon.
"Are you finally done in there?" Serana asks, as she stretches out like M'rissi would before sliding down the branch and landing silently on the balls of her feet barely making a sound as there's a faint crunch of snow beneath it.
"Yes, thanks for the patience. We just have a a couple days left to travel and then you can see how much the world has changed while you've been under." I tell her as we continue onward towards Whiterun.
Stopping after a couple hours we rest and then continue on our uneventful journey, transitioning from the snowy peaks into the rolling plains, before reaching the farmland on the outskirts of the city at the break of day, somewhat tired from our travels.
However, I see an encampment of a couple hundred warriors with a myriad of deferent armors gathering around an encampment that looks like an invasion force if I didn't recognize their banners to be the same as the Companions, the crimson banners with golden axes flowing in the breeze.
"Inigo, take Serana into town... I think that's the meeting I need to attend." I say, as I catch the scent of several other werewolves and give him a warning look with my eyes.
"Of course my friend, it would be my pleasure to escort Ms. Serana around the town. Summon me if you need anything." Inigo says, discreetly telling me to use my newest spell if things go wrong.
"Will do, have a good time Serana, this shouldn't take long." I assure her as I make my way towards the encampment as the other two break off and head towards the town proper.
I make my way towards the encampment, and the closer I get the more cooped up I feel. As if my clothes suddenly became three sizes too small and every move was like I was being weighed down by lead chains.
Crossing the threshold of the camp, I immediately felt dozens of eyes fall upon me, making me realize that in an instance why I felt this way.
'Challengers? Ha, fools...' I think to myself as I release some of my killing intent, forcing the weaker werewolves intermixed throughout the Companions' camp to back down and avert their gaze as I make my way towards the heart of the camp.
I see Skjor and Aela along with several other more experienced werewolves stand around one of the central bonfires.
"Damn new blood... You look good for a man on death's door." Skjor says with a laugh, clasping my back as I see the other werewolves tense up at my arrival, with Skjor and Aela seeming to be the only ones at peace while I slowly stopped releasing my killing intent.
"Thanks old man." I reply with a smirk, clasping his back in turn before asking, "What's going on? I thought the Moot was still a few weeks out? Why'd it get moved up?"
"That's the question on all our minds." Skjor says motioning towards the seven other werewolves that were standing with them around the bonfire he'd pulled me towards.
Most were nords, but there was an imperial and redguard amongst their number, and while they had seemed to be quite animated before my arrival they appear to have cooled down considerably after I was pulled into their circle.
"I did not know Hircine's Champion would be joining us... Especially a pup such as him." The redguard says, staring me down as if looking into my soul.
"Easy, Jinoc. He's a member of my pack, and I'll ripe your throat out, sending you and anyone else who dares to attack one of mine straight to Hircine's Hunting Grounds, myself." Skjor commands, coldly staring down all the other werewolves, asserting himself as the alpha of this gathering. Though the weight I had felt from his orders prior to the hunt seems to have waned at least for me, as even the redguard backs down, if but a little.
"Enough of this! We should be discussing the matter at hand!" The Imperial, a woman, says breaking up the fight of wills between the two.
(Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, they switched my schedule up at work and I had to adjust to the new time schedule. Hope you enjoy the chapter!)