Songs Of Return

The Storm Of Sorrow

Asmund opened his eyes again. he wasn’t in the Hall anymore.

Next to him, four were sitting, two of them with the Aura of Restoration on their hands.
“Thank the Gods” said the Woman, one he was sure he knew, “You’re back, As’!”

He squinted, the lady wore a different armor that the rest in the room. Actually, she seemed VERY different from the rest of the people in the room.

One of the others wore a blue Armor. Chainmail is was probably called. He wore a light armor, a light helmet on his head. The Man, straw-haired like another nord near him, though he wore a grey-and-blue Ebony Armor, the shape of a Bear visible on its pauldron.

Next to him, another man had the aura of Restoration on his hands. This one, rather old, with white beard, and eyes with an intent glare.

“KOLOS…” He groaned, “KOLOS ZU’U?” he said, with a confused tone.
The Woman sighed, “oh no. he’s gone full dragonguy again.”
“Dragonguy?”
“Yeah. He did that when he returned home that one time, remember? After his fight with Miraak. Overfeeding on Dragon Souls or something.” the Woman replied.
Asmund frowned. He could Understand them, but he couln’t talk like them. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

“ZU’U…ZU’U KROSIS FAH DAAR… NIS TINVAAK OL HI DREH” he said, his voice still shaking, even as it shook the room.
The Plate-man said “he’s talking Dovahzul. I can’t speak it that well, but understand it” he looked at Asmund, “Do you know where you are?”

Asmund Frowned. There was something familiar about this place, and these people.
He was sure he’d seen them before, somewhere…

But the answer to that question was obvious.
“NID”
The other blinked, and said “Well Shit.”
**********
The Bear-Man, who’d introduced himself as Ulfric Stormcloak (Asmund would call him Ulfric. The title made no sense if he wasn’t a mage) led Asmund as well as the other three out of the room they were in.

Asmund was definitely sure he wasn’t in Sovngarde anymore. The Sky was actually blue, with Magnus in the Sky.
“Well, Asmund!” said Ulfric, “I hope you get well soon. It won’t be good if you’re like this when we-“
The Man in Plate armor interrupted, “My Thane!”

Asmund blinked. ‘Thane’? “ZU’U LOS NID THEGN!” he said, before sighing. He could do well not to talk. Gods knew what’d happen if he screwed something up.
Ulfric said “Oh yes, you are, my friend. You are a Thane in four holds! Or were, at least. I’m not quite sure about it now”
FOUR HOLDS? Asmund thought to himself. SOMEONE WAS BUSY!

But he said nothing, and simply followed the others on their way. This was their vessel. Surely they knew better.

For the first time ever since the retreat, ulfric's mind was clear of any emergency thoughts, and this it had wandered back to windhelm.

There were no imperial triremes, no pirate frigates and no ghost ships attacking. If you ignored Asmund's sudden amnesia, there was nothing that needed his mind's attention.
And it had returned to Windhelm.  The ancient home of his ancestors all Thd way back to Ysgammor himself.

Ulfric didn't hold many things dear.
Old man Arngeir had told him, times and  times again, not to grow attached to normal things. He'd never got that right. It was probably why he'd joined the fourth legion on the battle of Red Ring.

Arngeir hadn't taught him that, which was why unlike theirs, his Thu'um couldn't be focused with words. Arngeir hadn't taught him that. Elenwen had.

And when Ulfric returned from Markarth,  he only had two things dear to his heart.
His home, and his brother. Galmar.
Now, the empire had taken both from him. Rikke and Tullius had taken both from him.
Now, his vengeance would know no limits. There was oblivion to pay.

As ulfric was brooding somewhere, the rest of the officers were on deck, "Kyne is on our side!" Boasted Captain Lonely-Gate as he stirred the wheel. "with this wind, he'll be North in no time!"

As per usual, the gods didn't appreciate this claim. Wind began blowing, waves clashing against the vessel violently

Sofia sighed, "you had to say it, didn't you?"
The sky darkened, thunder booking in The distance, rain speed from the aetherial planes as The wind and waves took over the ship's wheel, taking it to wherever gods willed.

"We need clear skies!" a man yelled, Asmund looked at the others. He more that with such a storm they were all doomed.
"HI, KENDOV!" He yelled at the Warrior in question. Ulfric turned, "What Is it, dragonborn?"

"MINDOK HEI GENIL LOKKE?" Thd other replied with a nod.

"PAHVOTH, RUZ!" He said, and together, facing Thd sea-storm, they shouted "LOK VAH KOOR!"

the Wind-Break of the shout boomed in the sky, silencing even the thunder, and slowly the clouds evaporated, rain stopped and Thd sea calmed down.

For about five minutes. Then it returned with a vengeance.

"DURRE!" Asmund cursed, many other following him with cursed more vulgar.
"Again, dragonborn!" Yelled Ulfric,  and the two shouted "LOK VAH KOOR!"

Thd sky calmed again. The storm returned even faster this time.

"There is no chance! This is a storm of kyne! We can't navigate through this!" The captain said, "close Thd sails and return to the Cabins! All we can do is pray!"

The crew left for The Cabins, every man and woman praying to a god of their choice.
The night was terrifying, none of them slept, but the next morning, when they returned to the deck, they were in for a surprise.
They'd landed
Their journey was coming to a pause.