FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Skyrim: Arga's Story

Chapter 10: Ancient Bones and Modern Boners

Sponsored by Draxinusom

By Draconicon

Arga was one of a cluster of students in the Great Hall of the College of Winterhold. Unlike most of them, he hadn't had a chance to get all dressed up for whatever Tolfdir, Mirabelle, and Savos Aren wanted to talk about. Hell, the sudden interruption of his and J'zargo's fun had left him with barely the time to throw a robe on and run down to the Hall, and he hadn't even had the chance to get his boots back on.

As he shuffled from one cold foot to another, he heard the other students muttering to each other, wondering what the call here was about. From what he could hear and make out, most of them didn't know about the dragonstone that he'd brought, or the breakthroughs that had happened. Whatever they were.

I guess we're all about to find out.

As the dark-scaled Argonian continued to try and get comfortable, J'zargo leaned in and whispered.

"This one is surprised you can hide your new 'equipment' beneath that robe. Is it not uncomfortable?"

"Don't start reminding me of that now. It's going to be difficult enough to ignore that...thing...without you calling attention to it."

"Ah, but J'zargo enjoys...competition."

He turned his head to face the feline, and managed to stare him down until J'zargo turned his head away. It was one thing for the pair of them to have a little fun in private, but this was not acceptable.

Here's hoping that there's some way to get rid of the damn horse cock before the week's out. It's going to be a cursed nuisance until I do.

Thankfully, there was no more teasing before Tolfdir stepped before them all and cleared his throat. The old Nord had their attention right off the bat. Some more than others, admittedly, but the students were paying attention.

"Thank you for coming so quickly. Now, I know that all of you have projects of some sort or other that needs attending, so we'll keep this as brief as we can. If we can. That will be the more challenging part of this...

"Anyway. As some of you have doubtlessly heard, our newest student, Arga - step forward, if you please?"

Arga nodded, stepping out of the crowd a bit. He felt a dozen or more eyes on him, staring at the only 'lizard' of the College. He waited for a bit, then stepped back into the crowd as Tolfdir continued.

"Arga brought us a unique, and most interesting, artifact when he arrived to take his place."

"Are you saying that the lizard bought his way into the College, Tolfdir?"

Every eye in the Hall turned to the gold-skinned elf standing off to the side. Ancano, Arga remembered his name as being, and the Altmer hadn't exactly been one of the highlights of his stay at the College so far. Admittedly, nobody had liked talking about him, or to him. Something about him being part of the Thalmor, undoubtedly. The high elf was not on anyone's list of well-liked people, that was for sure.

Arga kept his face neutral as he looked at the 'advisor' that had been foisted on the College, at least, according to the other students and teachers. He'd not had the chance to interact personally, but he had heard the rumors. Ancano looked down on the human members of the College quite a bit, but the beast races...well, it was a good thing that he and J'zargo were under the protection of the College officials, or they might have already been kicked out, or worse.

Tolfdir finally spoke up again, shaking his head.

"No, Arga demonstrated the proper knowledge of magic, just as any other student has done. The artifact itself was a gift, one which he refused payment for."

"Hmmph."

"Anyway, as I was saying. He brought us an artifact of surprising antiquity, dating back to the time of the dragons. It was marked with a number of different sigils, most of which were unknown to even our librarian. However, through careful study, and some help from Nelecar, we have managed to make a few new discoveries, and have even uncovered the function of the artifact itself."

"Well, what is it, then?" Faralda asked.

"This artifact is a map. A map to the burial mounds of the ancient dragons."

The entire Hall fell silent, and all of the students started looking at one another, silently asking the same question.

What magics could they hold?

Arga slowly shook his head, remembering the attack on Helgen, the great dragon that had attacked and caused the distraction that allowed him to get free of the Imperial garrison there. It had been a hard-fought fight to get out of there with his scales intact, and most of that had been fleeing from the dragon rather than trying to get away from the guards.

And that dragon had been doing something beyond just flying and grabbing and clawing and biting. It had been shouting, much like the other one that had been trapped in the dragonstone had. They...

The mounds might not just be burial chambers, anymore...

A shudder ran down his spine at the thought, and he had to shake his head. It was a foolish idea, of course. It was far more likely that the two dragons he had seen had simply been hiding out for a long time, hidden from the rest of the world. There was no way that they had been brought back from the dead...he hoped.

Tolfdir was talking again, he realized, and he forced himself to pay attention.

"According to the map, there's a burial mound not that far south of Fort Kastav, near Winterhold. I suggest that we take a quick trip together, and see it for ourselves."

"All of us, Tolfdir?"

The question came from Ancano again, and the school turned as one to glare at him. The elf chuckled.

"You can't say that it's the brightest of ideas, sending every student to such an ancient resource. Particularly when the Thalmor may want to take a look at it themselves, before you start rummaging about in such ancient history. We would like to...ensure your safety, of course."

"Safety?" Nirya, one of the teachers, called out. "Oh, yes, safety. Safety in the hands of the Thalmor, of course, of course, what are we thinking? Yes, you'd prefer to have everything there safely in your hands before any of us have a chance to see it, let alone mess with it. Are you thinking -"

"Nirya, calm yourself."

The dark elf head of the College, Savos Aren, stepped forward. Arga's eyes fixed on him, keeping his mouth shut as he waited. The Dunmer looked over the group, then turned to Tolfdir.

"You may take Faralda and a collection of the students with you. The others will remain here and continue their studies. And you, Ancano."

"...Archmage."

"You will remain here with us, as well. If there is anything to be concerned about, Tolfdir will return and tell us."

"But..."

Savos Aren didn't say anything, but Arga could feel the Dunmer's magical power being pulled at, harnessed and held. It wasn't the massive power that he had felt from other mages in his past, and it was nothing compared to the archmages of the Telvanni, but it was still strong enough to make the room change in feel. And it was enough to make Ancano back down.

Tolfdir complained about not getting to take all the students, as it was such a fantastic opportunity, and both Mirabelle Monet and Savos Aren started telling him why it was a stupid idea. Their conversation, however, mattered little to the students, who were already talking among themselves.

"What do you think is out there?"

"No idea, but it's gotta be something good. You don't just bury dragons for nothing."

"I bet it's not even dragons. I bet it's just magic treasure."

"Dragons don't really exist, after all. They probably were just ceremonial."

"Dunno about that. Helgen and all."

"I bet it was just an Imperial trick."

"I bet it was just a Stormcloak trick."

The mutters continued, the interest in the magical side fading for interest in the political, and Arga stepped away from the others. Two other students, Brelyna and J'zargo, followed, and the three of them stood to the side of the main cluster of students. The Dunmer of the pair turned to him, whispering.

"I hope that we get to go. I can't imagine another opportunity like this coming up."

"Probably not," Arga admitted. "Still...I hope that it doesn't get too overblown. This could be more dangerous than most of the people here can guess."

"J'zargo welcomes danger, if it also brings opportunity."

The Khajiit would say that, he knew, and he wasn't entirely surprised. Nor did he disagree. If he had avoided all danger, he would still be back in Morrowind, under the control of his old master. Instead...

Well, he was still under a master, but he was learning, here, and it was a willing servitude to the College compared to the forced servitude of the old lands. He shifted back and forth as the set of debates went on, rubbing the back of his head as they seemed to continue interminably.

"So, this one was wondering."

"Hmm?"

"Where did you find this dragonstone, Arga? It seems like such a treasure."

He should have guessed questions of that sort would come up. He shook his head.

"Old burial ground. It was buried with one of the draugr, and I thought it'd be better brought out of there than left behind."

"Good instincts, you have. Almost as good as J'zargo's."

"Um, Arga, can I talk with you for a moment?"

The Argonian nodded, and he stepped to the side, a little further from the Khajiit. His scales prickled slightly in the presence of the Telvanni Dunmer, but he forced himself to keep the worries in the back of his head. After all, Brelyna had had a number of occasions to screw him over, and they were in public. She couldn't do anything to him, regardless of her ancestry, and expect to get away with it, not here.

When they were far enough back, she leaned in, whispering.

"I'm so sorry about what happened with the horse experiment. I promise, I'm working on getting the information to turn you back."

"You...are?"

"It was my fault, after all, and...well, you didn't seem to want to keep...that."

She blushed a bit, and he did the same. The fact that she was reminding him of what hung between his legs wasn't exactly helpful in keeping it down, either. Arga pushed at his robes a bit, glad that they were at least baggy enough to keep from showing the initial signs of it dropping from its sheath.

"If you really want to help...J'zargo and I did get a book that might have a chance of changing it back."

"You - you did?"

"Well...I was worried..."

"Why?"

"...It doesn't matter. But if you're willing..."

"Of course. It was my mistake, after all."

"Then...when this all blows over, I will happily accept that help."

With J'zargo around, of course, he thought in the back of his head. The last thing he planned on doing was letting her have time around him alone again. Ever since learning she had come from Telvanni stock, the idea of working with her and her experiments had left shivers down his spine, and he didn't want to tempt fate to send him right back where he'd started.

She nodded, and they both realized that the room had fallen silent again. Arga turned, seeing that Tolfdir was going between the students, and that he had already picked two or three...and was coming their way.

"Later," Arga muttered, silencing the conversation.

The old Nord stepped up to them, and looked between them. After a moment, Tolfdir nodded to himself, and patted them on the shoulders.

"You two will be the last of the group. I wish I could take all of you, of course, but the Archmage insists on no more than five."

"What about J'zargo?" the Khajiit asked.

"Don't worry. There are always other ruins. I just need to make sure all of our findings come back intact...and not in the pockets of our students."

There was no reaction, not even a blush from the feline, but Arga knew that his friend would be stewing about this for a while. Every time that there was a chance for more plunder or profit, J'zargo was usually there. He didn't know how many different items had fallen into the pockets of the Khajiit's robes, but he imagined that the number was rather high.

He had hoped that he'd have a chance to go back to his chambers and get dressed properly, but Tolfdir had no patience for that. No sooner were they all gathered up than they were all headed out. The Argonian hissed as soon as his toes touched the snow, and groaned under his breath.

This was going to be a long trip.

#

It took them most of the day, even on horseback, to get to Fort Kastav. The bandits that occupied it initially had the idea that threatening them was a good idea, but a show of force from Faralda and Tolfdir quickly changed their minds. They were allowed through the fort without further molestation, and emerged on the other side as the sun was going down.

In the distance, the seven-person group could just make out the mound that stood out past the crossroads further south. It wasn't high, but it was one of the only distinguishing features of the landscape. He and Brelyna looked at each other, and then rolled their eyes as Tolfdir started going on about the history of such mounds. The old man always had some sort of tale to tell, some piece of history that he could relate to the world around them. As he droned on, they whispered between themselves.

"What do you think we're going to find, hmm?"

"I think that this could end up being a fight, honestly."

"Why? There's no bandits down here. The Kastav ones wouldn't take any infringement on their territory...would they?"

"Not the kind of fight I'm talking about," Arga muttered, his eyes flicking towards the skies. The low-hanging clouds kept anything from being seen, whether they were birds...or other things.

He shook his head, every bone in his body telling him that something was wrong, that something very bad was going to happen if they got closer to the burial mound. The dragon from Helgen and from the slopes besides Bleak Falls Barrow loomed in his mind. They had been immensely powerful, and he didn't want to think about what the old dragons might have been like. Or if -

No, no, that isn't going to happen. A bad feeling doesn't mean that things are going to go that far off the rails. Just...keep going.

The other mages were getting more and more excited the closer to the burial mound that they came, but he was more and more worried. There was something wrong. Something very, very wrong, and he didn't like the way that the clouds were getting darker. It could be a storm...but it could be something else, too.

Faralda led them off the road when they were close enough, the high elf taking them through the snow-dusted low hills by the mound. It didn't take long to get close.

They were still about twenty feet away when Arga felt the shockwave. It didn't come from the ground, but from the sky. He yanked at the reins of his horse, and held out his hand in front of Brelyna.

"It's coming."

"What is? What are you talking about?"

He flicked his eyes through the clouds, feeling another burst of air above him. It wasn't much, but it was...something. Something big, moving above the clouds. Nobody else had felt it yet, but he'd bet that was because he was waiting for it and they weren't. The other students were trying to go around him, but he shouted for them to stop.

"Stay where you are. Stay back!"

"What's going on? What are you doing, Arga?"

Tolfdir had turned, and so had Faralda, the teachers curious and annoyed, respectively. The Nord rode back to him, cocking his head to the side.

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe. There's nothing around us that can harm us."

"On the ground, maybe. I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about - Down!"

He threw himself off his horse, and dragged Brelyna down with him. The Dunmer fell over him as the clouds broke, and a dark, scaly shape came shooting down from the sky. A word echoed from the dragon's throat, and his horse burst into flames as the dragon breathed it over them.

No, not breathing...Shouting. He could hear the sound of the fire, and it wasn't the crackling bursting and spitting that a campfire made, or the roar of a bonfire. No, there was some sort of word echoing through the flames, something that kept it going impossibly long.

The horse died, but it had at least shielded him. As the dragon flew up again, circling over them, the other mages dismounted. Faralda started pressing her hands together, summoning magic, while Tolfdir threw up his hands in the direction of the dragon. On its next past, more fire came, but it splattered across the ward that the old Nord had thrown up in front of them, passing to either side.

Not without cost, though, he thought, watching the strain on Tolfdir's face. The old man was skilled with Alteration, but this was something different. That fire, that power of the dragon was hitting the barrier hard. It almost shattered by the time the dragon flew over them again, and their teacher was panting for breath. Faralda brought up her hands, casting lightning bolts from them. The bursts of power hit the dragon along its side and tail, but regardless of its grunts and roars of pain, it didn't slow it down.

Brelyna shook her head.

"That's...that's impossible. I thought..."

"It's the same one from Helgen."

"You've seen this before?"

"Yeah...it burned down the whole town, and killed a whole garrison of the Legion."

"We're doomed..."

"Maybe...maybe not."

Arga shook his head. There was a possibility of victory, though narrow. If he could...

As Faralda and Tolfdir readied themselves for the next pass, Arga groaned. It was going to be up to him. He pushed Brelyna back a bit, and then ran out into the road, waving up at the dragon. The other mages shouted at him to get back, but he kept running, screaming, getting the dragon's attention.

It worked. The great beast turned its body towards him, starting its run. Arga kept charging forward, pushing his body as hard as he could, knowing that he had one chance.

Just as the beast opened its mouth to Shout, he beat it to the punch.

"FUS!"

The ripple of energy leaving his mouth shot through the air, and smacked the dragon right across the face. It did almost nothing, save for stopping the Shout of fire, but the beast suddenly stopped, hovering with great beats of its wings. It stared down at him, eyes narrowed. He swore that there was a sudden hate behind them, an intelligence and cunning that he hadn't seen in the other dragon.

After a moment or two, it flew past him, and over the mound, but not before calling out a new set of words.

"Slen Tiid Vo!"

The great black beast flew off, but the burial mound began to quake. The earth shook and the ground split, and great bony limbs began to push free of the earth. Tolfdir called out something about necromancy, but the rest of the students were already panicking. They were shouting, grabbing for their horses, only to be stopped by a sudden crack of lightning.

Faralda stood ahead of them all, and the high elf called out in the stillness.

"We are mages of the College of Winterhold. This magic is not welcome in this world. Stand with me, and destroy this beast before it can rise. It is weak, now. Strike with me!"

The high elf threw her hands forward, and a bar of pure lightning shot from the palms of her hands. It was like a pillar of pure destruction, and Arga stared at it in awe of its sheer power. It burned through the ground, turning earth to glass, and the reforming dragon screamed as the lightning hit its body. The lightning crackled, punching a hole through forming scales and hitting the bones behind.

He jumped into the fight, calling on the firebolts that he'd so recently learned, and pulsing them together to form a rapid burst shot. It pounded into the dragon's skull, forcing it back and breaking off a piece of it.

One by one, the other mages joined in. Fire, lightning, and even ice rained down on the dragon, and slowly, they beat down the magic that was building it up. The scales stopped regenerating, and the body stopped coming together, until it eventually fell apart. It scattered, smashed down by one final blow from Faralda, and the mound was still once more.

The mages panted in exhaustion, recovering bit by bit. Tolfdir suggested they make camp and explore it in the morning, a suggestion welcomed by all the others.

After setting up his tent and slipping inside, Arga flopped down on his bedroll. He stared up at the top of his tent, and he slowly shook his head.

Dragons aren't just hiding...they're coming back from the dead. We killed this one, but...how many more are there?

If the dragonstone showed where they were buried, then it was only a matter of time before the big one started raising dragons from all over the place. One dragon was enough to destroy a town. What would three do? Ten? Twenty?

The flap of his tent opened, and he looked up to see Brelyna kneeling outside. She tilted her head, and he nodded, and she stepped inside.

"Thanks for saving me earlier. I didn't expect to see a dragon in the sky."

"I don't think any of us did."

"Still. You noticed it, and saved me from turning into an elven torch."

"Well...you're welcome."

"I did have an experiment in mind for the night."

"...What?"

"Well, horses are known to be...large."

"...You're kidding me."

"Well, I hoped to ride, actually, but -"

Arga groaned. He didn't know if this was supposed to be her idea of a reward, or if she was genuinely curious. And as she started kneading the front of his robe, he supposed it didn't matter. The Argonian sighed, and pulled up his robe bit by bit, until the sheath and growing cock were visible.

So much for not spending time alone with her, he thought. Stupid altered body...

The End