Book Two, Chapter Eleventy: Mashed Potatoes Can Be Your Friends

An Elder Dragon.  Bronze in color and breathing frost.   It leveled all of Rorikstead.  The bodies of Ennis, Reldith, Erik, Mralki, Britte, Lemkil, Sissel, Jouane Manette, even gloomy old Rorik himself, whose claims to have founded the settlement were impossible, since Rorikstead has existed since the First Era, when it was called Rorik’s Steading, which was over a thousand years before Rorik was even born.

But there was no time to ponder the discrepencies between the old man’s claim and the lore.  The blizzard that had slowed their journey to Solitude had picked up and the dragon was coming at them hard.  Even Trygyve and Lydia with their natural Nord resistance to the cold could barely withstand the Dragon’s frigid breath, which caused Elspeth’s face and hands to turn dark red and purple from frost bite.  She could no longer hold a weapon, or call forth the elements with her hands.  She was completely disarmed.  All she could do was pray, but even that was difficult as the sheer pain on the unprotected parts of her body was overwhelming.

Trygve shot arrow after arrow doused in the poison he had created and when the dragon came crashing down, Lydia lunged forward hacking away with her ax.  Trygve tried to get close, but was knocked clear across the ground by the dragon’s tail.  Finally, with the last of her strength, Lydia slay the mighty dragon and followed the light of the dragon’s soul down the sloped hill to where Elspeth was crouched over.

“I’m here, Elspeth…I’m here,” Lydia yelled as she knelt down by the Dragonborn whose skin was now turning black.  Lydia looked around in a panic; in the storm she couldn’t see where Trygve had fallen.  She scrambled, looking through the satchels and the pockets of their armor but there was no more healing potions.  They’d used them all when they’d confronted a passel of Vampires outside of Broken Fan Cave.  “Oh gods,” she said as she touched Elspeth’s forehead.  “TRYGVE!  TRYGVE!”

But he wasn’t responding.

“No…please….” Lydia didn’t know what to do.  She didn’t know healing hands.  “I’m sorry.”

From Elspeth’s chapped and broken lips she heard a raw scratchy whispering so she put her head down to her friend’s mouth to hear her better.

“All these moments will be lost in time. Like… tears in the rain. Time to die.”

And with that, the Dragonborn was gone.

~Fin~

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16 thoughts on “Book Two, Chapter Eleventy: Mashed Potatoes Can Be Your Friends

      1. She would put together a team of Dragonslayers. J’zargo. Onmund (because he’d want revenge). Who else? Idolaf because then I could have a dragon eat him.

    1. haha…I really didn’t expect to fool anyone. I told Erica that I was tempted to do an April Fool’s post and when she said I should I wrote this up in about 10 minutes. It sort of worked out accidentally perfectly that the last chapter was ten and I could use “Eleventy” for this chapter.

      Now because of that quote, my husband thinks I should write an Elspeth-Skyrim/Blade Runner cross over, where instead of dragons, they are searching for replicants.

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