Dragonborn Saga

Chapter 605 - Bros

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As one of the known champions of Winterhold, Wulfur’s reputation was only overshadowed by the existence of his sworn brother Jon. But in Jorrvaskr of the Companions, Wulfur may have garnered a lot of fame and honor as one of the braves that serve the People of Skyrim.

Mostly called "Shield-Brother" by everyone from the lowest to the highest ranks among the Companions, Wulfur’s position was the highest outside the Circle Members. He chose not to join the Circle of the Companions which is an underground society for Werewolves.

This decision made Wulfur much closer to people like Kodlak Grey-Mane, the Harbinger of the Companions, and the brothers Farkas and Vilkas.

Helping the people, hunting in the woods, wrestling in the river, attaining serenity through meditating in the calm nature of the forests and waterfalls around Whiterun. All this and that may have finally made Wulfur realize something about himself in this tranquility if not for...

"Ma Maaaan!"

... Jon dropping by.

Like a force of nature, Jon and his cat went around causing the organized stuff to fall down and the calm atmosphere to be chased away. Looking at Jon as he came over, Wulfur could still feel something unsettling.

Jon keeps growing stronger.

Ridiculously stronger.

Previously, Jon and Wulfur could stand on equal footing for some time but the more time passes by, the faster Jon grows accustomed to his Dragon Soul and Blood. A mortal like Wulfur who is only a tad bit more talented than your average Joe started hitting walls long ago yet Jon is still breaking through the ranks.

"You have reached the peak level of the Thunder Heart?" Wulfur asked as Jon got closer.

"You can feel it too?" Jon asked as he checked himself, "It is impossible to hide it now."

"You killed a Dragon lately?" Wulfur asked.

"Yes. I heard about a rogue Dragon in Hjaalmarch so I pursued it for a week until I trapped it near the Lord Stone not too far from the Shrine of Dagon. It was a good fight." Jon nodded as he dragged a barrel to sit on.

Currently, the two of them were not in Whiterun but rather in front of a wood cabinet which Jon ordered built near the White River overlooking the view of Whiterun hold and the White River.

The cabinet was surely a good place for training.

"Beowulf has sent you this." Jon retrieved something from his storage and showed it to Wulfur.

Once Wulfur saw it, he couldn’t help but grin widely.

"He broke his first wooden sword." Wulfur asked as he retrieved his son’s toy from Jon.

"Boy’s a beast for kids his age. You sure he’s just 4?" Jon laughed.

"You’ll know once you have kids of your own one day. Kids are beasts the day they are born." Wulfur laughed as he tried putting the broken sword together.

Jon somehow felt a little bit of heaviness once Wulfur said so. Wulfur noticed the look on Jon’s face which comes when he thinks of the topic of children.

"You’ll be alright." Wulfur added.

"You think?" Jon asked in rarely seen hesitation, "Alina and I are avoiding the subject, to be honest."

"Once you two get your priorities together, you’ll fill the hold with your offspring, believe me." Wulfur said.

"Priorities?" Jon asked as if he was offended, "We fuck like saber cats every night. For heaven’s sake! What are you talking about?"

"Yeah. Whatever." Wulfur laughed, "A man can lead an entire kingdom and drive dragons to their doom but once the topic of children is brought over, he’s as meek as a kitten."

*Nefertiti violently meows*

"Apologies! As meek as a bitch." Wulfur rephrased his statement.

"Go fuck yourself!"

After a round of brotherly insults, Wulfur skipped the formalities.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"I lack proper gear." Jon said.

"What pieces?"

"Bracers." Jon said then smiled, "From what I heard, you worked Skyforge a few times last month."

"Heh! Now you’re being greedy." Wulfur laughed, "Indeed, I worked the best forge of them all."

"Every blacksmith dream!" Jon said.

"True." Wulfur nodded with a faint smile.

"You don’t seem all that worked up." Jon said.

"That’s the thing about goals, Jon. Once you get them, you either want more or you realize you can get no more." Wulfur sighed.

"You’re telling me you’ve reached as far as you can go in Smithing?" Jon asked with a shocked face.

"With a patron like you, I’ve seen materials not even Eorlund Gray-Mane would dream to work on. Dwarven Cores, Dragon Bones, Metals from the bowls of Oblivion... What haven’t you shown me just yet, brother?"

Now that he thinks about it, Jon has indeed shown Wulfur everything. No more smart mechanisms or bright ideas, no more rare metals or exotic materials.

Wulfur’s skill as a blacksmith is enough to make him mass produce artifacts now.

"So... I won’t get anything from you anymore?" Jon asked.

"I will make you the bracers you want." Wulfur said.

"Noice!" Jon made a double thumbs-up.

"By the way, there has been a rumor going on lately. The treasure which the Empire and the Stormcloaks are turning the Nirn upside down over." Wulfur said.

"If you mean the Lord’s Mail, we collected it before when we were dead drunk with the boys." Jon said.

"No, not that. There’s something else they are making a fuss about."

"Yeah, I am not that keen on stuff like that." Jon said, "Probably something like a crown from an ancient era that gives one legitimacy or something."

"That’s too specific for someone not so keen."

Jon thought it was about time the Empire and the Stormcloaks started going head to head again. By that time, the Empire and the Stormcloaks should be fighting over the Jagged Crown. That’s why Jon ignored the rumors since he wasn’t interested.

The Jagged Crown is, as he described, a Crown that was used to select the King of Skyrim and it was made of the fangs of many beasts.

"Well, the rumor didn’t specify its nature." Wulfur said.

"Interesting." Jon said, "Still the only thing that matches that description is the Jagged Crown."

"You told me about the Jagged Crown before." Wulfur said, "Isn’t owning such a thing only meant for the true High King of Skyrim."

"You want a High King for Skyrim?" Jon asked.

"Unless it is you, I think everything is good as it is." Wulfur replied.

"We agree on something." Jon fist-pumped with Wulfur.

"Cheers then!" Wulfur stood on the cabinet’s bench he was sitting on and pointed to the back, "I’ve been hunting some game this morning. Grab it as I get some tools from inside."

"Alright." Jon nodded and walked to the area behind the cabinet to get the so-called game Wulfur hunted.

A game, he said. Jon stood in shock from what he saw.

Behind the cabinet, there was a cave where people would store the food in a cooler environment but for some reason, the cave seemed to have been expanded lately.

Inside the cave was the carcass of a great beast, a Mammoth.

But not just any mammoth.

A Mammoth of the size of a small dragon was all tied up in chains of cold iron and darted by over a hundred spears.

Three pairs of tyrannical tusks, a rune-carved head, legs that are twice the size of a normal mammoth, and a furious look in its eyes that lingered even after its death.

"Motherfucking son of a bitch!" Jon couldn’t help but spit those words as Wulfur came closer.

"That thing destroyed a dozen Daedric Cold Iron Chains by its tusks alone." Wulfur said with a saddened look despite the bewildered look at Jon’s face.

A Royal Wrothgar Mammoth, that is fabled to be the King of Beasts, is lying dead in Wulfur’s food storage.

Some people are just ridiculous even if they don’t realize it.

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