Skogurheim: Ivarstead, Skyrim

-= 3 hours past midnight =-

My sleigh coasts to a halt before the gates of Skogurheim but I hesitate. There were tracks leading to the stairs which were clear of snow. It had been almost 2 weeks since I had last been home... It had also snowed... Drawing my blade I jumped from the sleigh telling Skaela to sit put. Shifting my shield into place I opened the gate and made my way round the house to the back. The back patio was cleared of snow as well and firewood had been split recently... I tested the to handle it swung open freely, so I called into the house,Whomever is here state your name and your business being in this house... MY house!"

"Legitus? Is that you?"

"Whos there? Who is speaking?"

"Anorien, sir. Of the 64th."

"What was my Legion?"

"The 913th sir."

"And when did I get out?"

"Three years ago sir, you got out joined a band of pirates assulted their captain for mocking your reading skill and essentially stole a chest of high value gems, Amethysts as I recall, your horses name is Mace and you have a Malamute puppy whom is not yet named last I knew!"

I paused taking it all in, "Hello Anorien, the pup has earned her name actually, she is called Skaela."

"Welcome home sir, did you need any help bringing in anything?"

"Be a saint and bring Mace up to the stables hes just outside the gate, thank you Anorien."

"My pleasure sir, I'll be right back with all your things."

He hustled out the front door as I came in through the back door, securing it behind me and trudged down to the basement armory.

I sat quietly before the fire place in my room studying a map of the Falkreathian countryside, making note of possible issues and likely places in which a dragon might roost and other locations in which dragons were known to dwell. This was going to be a costly war... How was one small man to take down a realm of dragons? I sat in the chair map in one hand, face resting in the other balanced on the arm of my chair as Anorien brought in a fresh bowl of stew for me with little Skaela bouncing along behind him hoping for a treat, "Skaela... you know better." She huffed at me and came over to sit beside me, "Shes a good pup milord, leave her be," Anorien chidded.

Looking up at Anorien I give him a frown, "You're pretty cheeky for a steward you know that right?" "Who, me? ....Never." I couldn't help but laugh. He had gone through a lot these past few weeks. Seems his brother Eol had gotten a bit to confrontational with his Lieutenant, had struck out and drawn a superiors blood... He had been put to the sword for it... It had broken Anorien's dedication to the legion. He had resigned from his station as one of the elite Legion Rangers. So he had returned here and sworn himself into my service as the Steward of Skogurheim. He was pretty damn good at it too I must say, kept the meat locker full with fresh game, knew how to scavenge the countryside for any possible ingredient desired, even know how to bake and farm. Figures he would be good at this sort of thing as a Bosmer. He handed me he platter with bread, cheese, stew, and a pint of tea, "Be right back sir, I'm going to grab myself some dinner as well then we can go over these plans of yours." "Excellent, and bring something for little Skaela would you?" "Aye sir."

Anorien returned with his meal and sat beside me, "Apologies milord, but it seems we have further offerings from the skies..."

"Your meaning Legionnaire?"

"Former, sir, and it would appear that more snow comes our way."

"UGGGGGH, more?!"

"So it appears milord, I only pray that none are stranded out in this upcoming weather."

"I second that prayer, Kynareth and Stendarr protect us all from such a fate..."

Lifting my mug of tea I offer it up to the heavens in tribute, "Apologies for the poor tribute Kyrareth, may your brothers Stendarr and Talos offer you a better explanation than one as low as I could ever hope to offer." I pour a small portion of my tea out to the flame in offering to the goddess of nature, Kynareth, and the god of protection, milord Stendarr, just as Anorien follows suit with his wine, "May any who find themselves lost to winters embrace find their way safely to these halls," and bow my head to offer additional silent prayers for those no longer at my side. Sitting back against the back of the chair I finish my meal in silence, and scratch little Skaela's ear...

I sat in my chair by the firepit raging with icy-cold fury as the snows began to fall outside the window. I sat watching the snow flood from the skies as Anorien brings in a fresh pot of tea, "Will you need anything else milord?" My answer was a simple one, the tea pot shattered on the rear wall of the stone fireplace, "Saddle Mace, that dragons may die." Bolting upright, I let out an enraged roar and stop down to my personal armory. Dressing in my newly enchanted armor "Lokdagnir", the "Dragons Bane". Freshly dressed in the armor I shoulder my shield, belted on my new blade, named "Lokdagnir" as well that both blade and armor would match one another in their cause. I stamp back up the stair the fresh silvery steel shimmering in the light of the torches. Stepping to the door Anorien calls out, "You mean to leave now milord?" "I do."

"Milor-" he began, only to be cut off by a gesture of my hand as it took my helm from his grip. "Cease... your orders are to keep an eye on the house, keep its stores stocked and its halls free of unwelcome tread. While I am gone be a saint and see that little Skaela is trained to hunt, to guard the hall, and able to take the frontlines beside me. See her properly armored as well," clamping my hand on his shoulder I tell him the location of my deed to be opened only upon word of my death. We salute one another and clamp each others wrists in typical Legion fashion. Stepping from beneath the arch of the door jamb into the descending flurries of frost, the armors enchantments guarding me from the cold of the environment. "A beast resides in the hearts of all men..." called out to me as I reach the gates. "...And it stirs when you place a sword in his hand! FOR SKYRIM! FOR OUR FALLEN BROTHERS! FOR THE EMPIRE! SEND WORD TO THE HOLDS! I STRIKE OUT FOR EMBERSHARD MINE IN FALKREATH AND WOULD WELCOME ALL WHOM WOULD FOLLOW!" Mace, my monstrous, heavy draft horse charges up the road, straight into the blinding fury of the storm... "Come my foes, let us make war, let us make history..." I grunt under my breath...

I nearly fell from the saddle as I attempted to get down out of my saddle as Mace and I staggered towards the Embershard mine.