Oathbreaker

VII: The Trial

Drakarax's foot sank deep into the fresh mountain snow, down to his knee. He'd been walking through the snow for hours and his legs ached. The cold of the mountain air bit at his scales and every breath stung his lungs. The journey to the dwarven city of Nel Ulihm was a three day journey, one day to descend from Mount Stormscale, the mountain that Drakarax's clan called home. Another day's walk through the Valley of Green, then yet one more day to scale the great stone stairs of Nel Ulihm. The latter two, hopefully, should've been easier than traversing the snow covered Mount Stormscale.

Drakarax continued down the mountain, the snow gradually getting shallower as he descended in elevation. He stopped a few hours after midday along a semi frozen stream and ate a meal of preserved meat and dried fruit, and he drank from the ice cold water of the stream. He then continued walking, humming a tune to himself. Eventually, he arrived at the foothills of Mount Stormscale, which was the last stretch of land before he arrived in the Valley of Green. Drakarax sighed and continued walking, being thankful that the snow was no longer covering the trail he walking.

A few miles down the trail, Drakarax walked upon a large downed tree lying across the trail. As he approached, a harsh, salty oder wafted across his nose. A sharp metallic sound cut through the quiet evening as a lone bandit ambushed Drakarax from behind. He pushed the tip of a dagger against the Dragonborn's back.

"You lost, scales?" The bandit asked menacingly. A sickening smile stretch across this dirty face as he thought of the money he'd make off whatever he'd just found. Drakarax closed his eyes, inhaled then exhaled a cold breath. He planted his left foot in the dirt and swung his left arm around, connecting the back of his hand with the bandit's jaw. The bandit tumbled to the ground, dropping his dagger a few feet away from him. Drakarax kicked the dagger away before the bandit could reach for it, then stood over the small, pale man like a giant. He bared his teeth, letting his lightning breath well up in his throat. A look of shear terror grew across the bandit's face as he watched the arcs of lightning spill from Drakarax's maw. Drakarax stared at the man, torn as to whether to kill him or to spare him. Despite him being trained to fight, he had never killed any living this before. He studied the man's face, other than a few dragonblood sorcerers that had visited Clan Stormscale before, Drakarax had never seen a human like this. His skin was pale, he was covered in dirt and he stunk like rot. He had brown hair growing wildly from his head and chin. Only a pair of tattered leather trousers covered his legs.

"Run." Drakarax barked at the man. The bandit scrambled to his feet and bolted up the trail Drakarax had just walked down. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting the energy in his throat dissipate. He turned around and continued down the trail.

Drakarax walked down the trail until the stars above him shined against the dark sky. He continued to walk until he stumbled upon a farm that sat off the side of the trail aways. A large mound of yellow grass sat on the side of the trail, a perfect sleeping spot for a large, tired Dragonborn. Drakarax limped towards the pile and collapsed into it, groaning in relief as he was finally off his aching feet. He shimmied himself deeper in the grass and fell into a deep, refreshing slumber.

Drakarax woke the next morning, the warm morning sun shining on his face. He stretched his aching limbs, then heard a strange noise to his right. His eyes bolted open and he jerked his head towards the sound, only to see a cow, mindlessly chewing away at the grass Drakarax was just sleeping on. The cow stared at him, his eyes empty and devoid of thought. Drakarax laughed at funny looking creature and stood from the grass like, brushing the remaining grass from his clothing, then beginning down the trail again.

The journey through the Valley of Green left Drakarax wonderstruck. Having never left the mountain in his short life, everything in the valley was new to him. He'd never seen such vibrant colors that he saw amongst the green grass, the purple and red wild mountain flowers, even the deep brown earthiness of the dirt surprised him. He watched a family of black bears fish in a wide, gentle flowing river. He strode through great trees whose branches seemed overloaded with green leaves, which imparted a pleasant scent on the breeze as it flowed around them. The mountains stood as great titans, making Drakarax feel like as small as an ant. Among these new sights and smells, Drakarax felt a sense of calm, a sense of connection. Something about this place, this forest, it reached out to him in a way. He felt more welcome here than among the cold air and the snow covered ground of the mountain. Even as the journey waned and Drakarax approached the beginning of the grand stairs of Nel Ulihm, he felt himself melancholy as he left the wilds of the Valley of Green.