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The Tale of Rhaegar Dragonbane (Skyrim Adventure Topic)

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Author Topic: The Tale of Rhaegar Dragonbane (Skyrim Adventure Topic)  (Read 1604 times)
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Dave
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« on: April 28, 2013, 04:38:56 pm »

After more than 30 years away, Rhaegar the Lost returns home, arriving on the docks of Windhelm during a cold, snowy day.



He ventures into the city, finding the cold stone matching the climate more than anything, and feels far from home. He spends the briefest of moments taking in the architecture, first of the hall, then of the Palace of Kings. The Jarl within, he decides not to seek an audience when hearing of the discrimination within the city walls.




It is a disconcerting sight for Rhaegar, and he decides that his life is not within Windhelm anymore. It may have been whilst he was a boy, but now he has returned from the fighting, he sees nothing in this life for him anymore, home not an option. Serving the Empire during the war with the Thalmor as but a teenager, and becoming a mercenary in the years after the White-Gold Concordant, Rhaegar knows nothing but a life of violence. With intent to pursue a fortune, he decides to venture forth into the wilderness, aiding those that need him the most.

Along the road he spots travellers, but for the most part the adventure is quiet. As he heads further south, the weather brights, and coming across a body he is able to find some worn armour to assist him in the future. On the road, Redguards wander harassing citizens. He pauses to consider coming to the woman's aid, but the situation clears itself up quickly, and no one is harmed.



It is not long before he finds danger. Venturing nearby an old mine, Rhaegar is attacked, and forced to fight back, slaughtering a group of bandits with animalistic rage.




Eventually he emerges, better geared for war than before, on a hill overlooking Whiterun Hold.



With the city looming in the distance, he decides to pay it a visit, knowing that mercenary work is plentiful for those looking for it, the Jarl having bounties always needing completion. But more than this, he finds rumours of a small scale war in Helgen to the south, and leaves on an errand ordered by Jarl Balgruuf.

He arrives in the beautiful riverside town of Riverwood, and speaks with the villagers. They all have the same reports - dragons and rumours of dragons. The owner of the mill pleads for Rhaegar to return to the Jarl and get him to send help, and Rhaegar obliges, knowing full well should a dragon return he would not be able to assist singlehandedly.



Night is settling in over Whiterun.



The Jarl is distraught to hear the news of a dragon, and sets his wizard to research immediately. Farengar gets to work immediately, but the Jarl's bodyguard Irileth arrives with reports of a dragon attack at the Western Watchtower. Balgruuf asks Rhaegar to go with Irileth and a contingency of guards to investigate the attack, and Rhaegar decides to.

Leaving the city, he is approached by familiar men, but declines to assist them at the present, knowing that the dragon is a higher priority.



The Watchtower looms ahead. Rhaegar gains the nagging feeling that the men they have may not be enough.



In the sky, a shape swirls amongst the clouds.



And within seconds, the great creature descends and war begins. Whiterun guards are slain quickly, whilst Irileth and Rhaegar hold the dragon back. It looks as though the day is lost, as Rhaegar begins to load his last bolt into his crossbow. The dragon lands on the ground, turns to Rhaegar, and fire erupts from his mouth. Rhaegar is surrounded by flames, but feels no burn, no heat, and instead aims his crossbow right for the dragon's eyes.



The bolt flies and strikes true, straight through the dragon's right eye and the great beast collapses in a final scream, It's corpse has barely begun to rest when a strange power emerges and Rhaegar feels his body filling with power.



The dragon's soul has been absorbed, and Rhaegar feels a new power stirring deep within him. After a conference with Irileth and the surviving guards, Rhaegar knows he must return to Balgruuf and report of the events at the Watchtower. Standing before the Jarl, Rhaegar recounts his story and is praised immensely, made a Thane of Whiterun, and tasked by Balgruuf to seek the Greybeards and learn more of his power.



In his parting words, Balgruuf asks for Rhaegar's full name. Rhaegar explains that he is known as Rhaegar the Lost. Balgruuf disagrees, and retitles the new Thane as Rhaegar Dragonbane, a hero of Whiterun, a name that he says will be known across all of the world.

To be continued...
« Last Edit: April 28, 2013, 04:41:51 pm by Dave » Report Spam   Logged

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Dave
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« Reply #1 on: April 28, 2013, 08:43:05 pm »

Chapter 2: The Longest Night

Day had come and passed, and Rhaegar Dragonbane had not yet decided which path to pursue. His potential destiny as Dragonborn loomed within his mind, and still most of the day was spent within the city of Whiterun, trading goods and spoils with the locals. Evening came, and Rhaegar was approached by a guard with reports of strangeness from the Hold. Stretched thin by the recent dragon attacks, Rhaegar could offer support to the Whiterun guards by patrolling the area around the city.

Rhaegar left the city and began heading west and day began to turn to night. A short way from the city he was blessed with a finding, an ebony sword held by a skeletal hand in a small pond. He took the sword, but chose not to use it unless necessary, relying on his Ebony War Axe he had pilfered earlier, and his Crossbow, ever reliable.



Night fell without incident. In the dark, a torch glowed softly. With caution, Rhaegar approached it, only to find a lone Khajiit, and together they conversed for a while, the Khajiit warning Rhaegar of the dangers in the night. M'aiq, as he was called, told Rhaegar of a cursed sword within a pond somewhere in the hold. Rhaegar quietly mused on the warning, and travelled on.



Within minutes, horror descended on Rhaegar. A pair of vampires loomed out of the darkness, ambushing him on the road. In a desperate fight, he was able to slay them, but felt himself burning up, contracting their disease. His vision blurred and more nightmares were thrown upon him, two vampire werewolf hybrids bearing down on him with vicious brutality.



Miraculously, Rhaegar survived the second assault, both hybrids falling beneath his axe. Exhausted, bleeding, out of breath and diseased, Rhaegar was night on delirious. He began proceeding north, hoping to reach the village of Rorikstead and gain some treatment for his wounds, but the curse of the sword was in full effect.

Stepping out from beneath a bridge, like a troll, was a lonely thief, dressed in elven armour. He threatened Rhaegar's life, but Rhaegar, humourless, spat back in his face. The thief drew his daggers.



Rhaegar was not amused.



Continuing north, Rhaegar quickly realised he was lost, far from Rorikstead, and yet unsure of his location. He came upon a forest, snowing in the dark, and wandered for what felt like hours, completely lost until buildings emerged in the distance; the town of Morthal.




He saught treatment immediately, heading to the Thaumaturgist's Hut, and cured himself of the disease immediately. The alchemist questioned his late night need for such a cure, and when Rhaegar was forced to explain he found himself before the Jarl, Idrod Ravencrone, who tasked him with finding the lair of these vampires and slaying them all. Rhaegar, wounds bandaged and head clear, agreed that the vampires were to be stopped, and was given a contingent of warriors from the town to travel with to the marshes and find the vampire's lair.



It didn't take long for the crew to find the lair; outside, guarding it, a vampire and her thralls awaited. A skirmish ensued, with the townspeople struggling, surely likely to be slaughtered without Rhaegar's intervention. Disposing of the guards, he told the townspeople to stay behind while he scouted ahead. The guard held on her a journal, noting the name of the vampire lord within the cave; Morvath, a dangerous and powerful vampire that Rhaegar would have to take down quickly, or risk losing his life.

Inside the cave, upon his throne, Morvath waited.



Between him and Morvath, Rhaegar found several thralls, each weaker than he'd expected, and he was able to take them out silently with his axe, sneaking in close. He came upon the main chamber, still coated in shadows, and there he saw Morvath, drinking from a goblet. Rhaegar drew his crossbow, took aim, and knowing that unless the shot was true and perfect, Morvath would be on him in seconds, he fired.



Rhaegar did not see whether the bolt had struck or not; instantly the cave came alight as Morvath's minions stirred, bolts of lighting heading towards Rhaegar. In desperation he fired off two more bolts at the vampires, before moving in with his axe. He finished them with ease, they're strength diminished with the approaching morning, and turned to face Morvath, but Morvath did not stir - for Rhaegar's bolt had pierced him below the right eye, and like the dragon, Morvath had died instantly.



Successful, victorious, Rhaegar emerged from the cave in the light of day, and beheld the town with clear eyes for the first time.



As he headed back towards town, keen to visit the inn for food and a bed, he was approached on the bridge by three strangers clad in strong armour, who began brandishing swords. Cursing his luck, Rhaegar stopped, and watched them cautiously. They called to him, taunted him, and told him why they were here - to repay a debt, decades old, from after the war. They charged, but did not realise Rhaegar's strength and ability, and he dispatched them in seconds.




Nearby, watching, the mercenary Benor watched with enthusiasm. As guards came to investigate the bodies, Benor congratulated Rhaegar on his victory over the men, but suggested he would need a bodyguard, as he was now known as a dangerous man - slayer of dragons and vampires. There would always be men wanting to prove their worth and value by slaying a proven hero. Rhaegar saw the sense in Benor's words, and suggested that the mercenary come with him, for a fee of course, but Benor would not be swayed. He, after all, wanted to prove he was a stronger warrior than the now famed Rhaegar Dragonbane.

Rhaegar's hand raced to his axe, but Benor laughed, and told him he only wanted a fist fight. If Rhaegar won, Benor would gladly come with him (for a fee of course), but Benor swore that would not happen.

And so the brawl began. Rhaegar threw a devastating right hand, and Benor countered, stunning the man for just a moment, and swiftly he drew his sword, aiming to kill, not just injure. Rhaegar saw the movement from the corner of his eye, just in time to draw his axe, and spin, axe raised, and a battle cry erupting from his throat.

The result was not what Benor expected.



Finally, the terror of his night and morning at an end, Rhaegar ventured into the nearby inn and sat down to a meal. Beside him sat another mercenary, a man who introduced himself as Hoth, a man who had no idea who he sat next to, and said that for 500 gold he would join with Rhaegar for the next week, aiding him with whatever he needed, as long as it proved bloody and brutal as all that business outside. Rhaegar agreed to Hoth's terms, knowing full well that his return to Skyrim had set in motion events beyond his control, that blood and guts would follow him wherever he went, and the impressive figure of Hoth by his side would be an asset, and a cheap one, all things considered.



And so it was; Rhaegar and Hoth finished their breakfasts, and turning their backs to Morthal, left in search of the next part of their tale.

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