High Hrothgar is my next destination, the mountain-top dwelling of the Greybeard monks that shouted for me a few days gone. A man by the name of Klimmek asks me to take a delivery up for him, as the seven thousands steps are a bit too much for him these days - what, and he thinks me knees aren't shot? Of course, I don't really mind taking it, but it was the expectation that I would that got to me.
I ascend the first set of steps, cut directly into the rock of the mountain itself. Things are pretty uneventful as I put my feet on step after step. My thoughts turn to Faendal; he would have enjoyed the view, and provided someone to talk to on this long journey.
Still, its a good thing he isn't with me - I soon find myself having to stick close to the mountainside to edge silently past giants and trolls. If I'd known about them before hand, I would have told Killick to heft his pack himself. These creatures are not to be trifled with. I lonely single adventurer (such as myself), it actually worries me what they would do to my person. The word "shreds" springs to mind, but I shake my head and keep moving.
It is to some great relief that I drag myself up the last few steps and spy High Hrothgar itself. There in front of me is the chest which Klimmek informed me is for deliveries. I pull the items from their canvas enclosure, and let them drop into it.
I turn away from the chest, and the Greybeard monks are already there waiting for me. They need to test me to see if I am Dragonborn - though from my own sense of self-importance, I'd thought that this had already been established. Either way, they allow me inside away from the snow and cold, to dwell beside roaring fires and not-so-roaring monks - they are absolutely silent. The main monk tells me to have a shout, and I send two of the monks staggering. This is the only time they emit a noise. They congratulate me on my shout - according to them, this is a dragon's shout, and it has a specific word associated with it. I understand little.
The monks then seem to conjure up some kind of ethereal targets that they want me to shout at. I do this to each in turn, and due to the ghostly nature of the targets, the shout goes straight through and hits the monks. I can't work out whether they knew this would happen, or whether spending your life in a cold monastery makes you a bit simple.
Seemingly happy with the results of my ghost shout test, the main monk asks me back outside. I was only just beginning to warm up too. But seeing as though I was there at their suffering, I agree and follow. They take me out into a courtyard with a fence-less gate in the middle. Who builds a gate without any fence? Mountain-dwelling monk folk, that's who.
They monks teach me a knew word. I cannot read it - it is in some form of gibberish. But it leaves an imprint in my mind. They open and shut the gate quickly, and tell me to use this new word. I do so, and rather than sending monks stumbling, it grants me great speed that lets me leap forty odd feet in less than a second. Naturally, to find out if it all went in right, they make me do it again.
It is at this point that they decide they've done all that they can with me, and send me away. I don't even get any dinner, regardless of the calorific needs of an adventure climbing down seven thousands steps in a suit of heavy armour. I actually feel a bit used, upset even. I really miss Faendal.
So feeling a little light-headed and woozy from a lack of food, I take the shortcut down the mountain. Stumbling down the shale sides, I aim for Ivarstead and try hard not to look down,
No comments:
Post a Comment