Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 14: Whiterun
– Jorgen –
100cp granted, 200cp total
Making plans to tunnel under the ocean itself was no easy feat, even with my skills and powers. Water is heavy, as it turns out, and anything under the ocean is going to need to be reinforced to Oblivion and back to withstand the constant pressure of an entire ocean on top of it.
That said, it isn't nearly as complicated as I originally feared as I run the numbers again and nod to myself. The tunnel needs to be wide enough for my train to run through it without risk. It needs to be secured and reinforced so it doesn't collapse from the weight or vibrations. It needs to be able to be shut down and closed in an instant if things go wrong. The best way I've come up with is to make it section by section, with bulkhead seals at each end of the sections that can be shut remotely by my golems in case of any issues. If there is an issue five sections away, they'll shut the whole thing down to prevent it from spreading.
I've ordered my golems to start constructing a new warehouse near where we are already working on the port, and that's where the tunnel will begin. They'll start digging and reinforcing while I'm on the road to Whiterun. I'm doing this properly. Whatever weight I'm expecting the tunnel to have to deal with, I'm having it reinforced to deal with five times that weight. Better to do it once, and properly, than have to fix it all later because it collapsed. The Red Mountain still rumbles on occasion, and the ground quakes from its anger. My tunnel needs to be ready to survive earthquakes and other natural disasters. Basically, my redundancies need redundancies.
The journey to Whiterun will give me time to theorycraft on what I can do to deal with the ash problem when we get to Raven Rock itself. I have plans, sure, but I'd like something more than vague ideas before I start the construction of a second branch of the Chillbloom farming empire. Ha, if only the old man could see the farm now. Brelyna is going to look for someone to handle matters in Solstheim as she has her magical studies and I can't afford to stay there fulltime. Once I've got a Heart tree planted, I'll be able to come and go as I please, but I'm a Nord. I was born in Skyrim, I will live my life in Skyrim and I will most assuredly die in Skyrim, probably not far from where I was born. I don't want to spend all my time in Solstheim, once I've got the place up and running.
I've put her in touch with Birna. Golems are good for many things, but farms still need that human touch. Fortunately, Windhelm is full of Dunmer who fled the Red Mountain and are now stuck in Skyrim without any work to do. Both Birna and Brelyna think that plenty would jump to work for me on either farm. My port will need workers as well, and if things go right, this could evolve into a small port village as there's good fishing to be done and even with the train tunnel, it'll still be a key part of my future trading with other places.
Birna thinks I'll see a lot of ships stopping for rest before heading either east to Morrowind or west to Solitude. Making an inn and some small services could go a long way to draw the trade to Winterhold instead of Windhelm which is where they usually stop. Windhelm has high fees, and is one of the two centerpieces of a literal war. Plenty of merchants would rather avoid both of those issues if there is a smaller but equally viable port just to the north.
Plus, even the most racist Nord should be happy if this works out. Windhelm has a massive Dark Elf population that I've heard the locals aren't thrilled about, turning an entire section of the city into what is basically a slum. If I work out anti-ash countermeasures, they can be deployed to the towns and then villages allowing the Dunmer to return to their homeland. They can't settle Morrowind again at the moment, because it's practically unlivable outside of the major settlements that survived. If I solve this issue, I can sell my countermeasures and sponsor Dunmer refugees in Skyrim to return and settle Solstheim.
Because more villages means more customers. Can't make money from ash monsters and dead land. If you want people to spend a lot, you gotta make sure they have a lot to spend to begin with. It's the Chillbloom way. We've been giving food to Winterhold basically for free each winter so they don't starve and can buy more when spring comes. Same thing here.
If I want to start doing business in Solstheim, I need to make sure Solstheim has customers to sell to. Raven Rock is a start, given how bad Brelyna says things are over there, but it's smaller than Winterhold and that's saying something.
So, a lot of unhappy and poor Dunmer in Windhelm talking about the glory days and how much better Morrowind was. A lot of land that is being wasted because of some stupid ash. See where I'm going with this? Brelyna thinks her House would support the resettling, and that their rival would rush to join in because they wouldn't want House Telvanni to get ahead in any way.
The Dunmer should be happy that they're reclaiming their homeland. The Nords should be happy that the Dunmer are fucking off back home. Hell, the Imperials should be happy too because Morrowind is technically still a part of the Empire, I think. Maybe? Actually I don't fucking know. They used to be and I don't remember ever hearing of them either being granted independence or fighting for it.
Shaking my head, I make sure the golems are all working on their various projects. Expansion, building, digging, crafting. I've got quite the army at this point, most of which are down in Blackreach. It would make people nervous to see just how many I actually have even if they aren't great fighters. Korir might like me, but when a Thane has more manpower than the Jarl himself, people get nervous. So, to keep the peace, I have most of the crafter golems working in Blackreach. It's also where I keep most of my goods, because I have much more space and the temperature is easier to control down there for ideal storage conditions.
Which is also why I made my main brewery down there as well.
At this point, there are no Falmer left down there. I'm sure some fled into the various tunnels but the majority of them have been slaughtered by Nerscylla or my new defences. Improving my Dwemer autoturrets to target Falmer wasn't hard, they're so twisted and malformed from so many years underground that there's no risk of regular elves being misidentified and shot by giant ballistas.
Also, I stole their Charus and started a small Charus farm because the chitin and venom is fairly useful. It's very secure, with every escape avenue covered by ballistas, and I am keeping the numbers low for now.
But if the fucking Falmer can work how to domesticate the ugly things, I can. If nothing else, Nerscylla can keep their numbers under control.
– Later –
The journey to Whiterun was frankly as easy as we expected. While banditry is becoming increasingly common as the war drags on, even bandits aren't stupid. Seeing a merchant travelling alone is one thing. Seeing a strange carriage being pulled by two giant mammoth-like creatures, joined by heavily armed Companions riding giant bird-like mounts, is another entirely. It's part of why I was willing to pay the Companions for the escort. They're well known throughout Skyrim and they cut an intimidating figure with their new arms and armour.
Could I swat some bandits like flies? Of course I could, but it doesn't mean I overly want to either. I'm a farmer, a merchant and an inventor. If I never have to use the Leviathan axe to fight again, I'll die content. Of course, I fully expect some idiot is going to make me introduce his brain to my axe before the week is out but that doesn't mean I won't try to avoid it when possible.
I have faith that Sudi and Birna will handle matters back home. Birna has a keen eye for business, and Sudi knows how to handle the animals. Barioth will make sure the place stays safe, and I almost pity anyone stupid enough to think the farm is defenceless just because I'm away from home.
"You can stay in Jorrvaskr while you are in Whiterun," Aela offers as we approach. I won't deny that I attracted some… attention with my arrival thanks to the strange designs of my carriage and supply cart, along with the two giant Popos that were pulling them but since I did the smart thing and wrote ahead, the guards knew what to expect. "But I have to talk with the Harbinger, and take the Chocobos to the Mead Hall. If the guards give you too much trouble, send someone to come and find me and I'll knock their heads straight."
"Do you want me to stick around?" Ciri asks, but I shake my head.
"I'll be fine. I wrote ahead and the Jarl gave me permission to bring my Popos here. They're just being cautious in a time of war. Besides, Danica is staying with me anyway so I have the support of their main priestess," I wave off, getting a nod from her as the Companions head their own way. Ria gives me a wave as she leaves, while Njada just walks off. She's a hard woman to get along with, but I don't mind her bluntness.
I'm not waiting long before the guard returns with a dark elf woman in leather armour. She has a serious frown on her face, but I don't think it's aimed at me or at the situation. She just seems like a severe woman. The guard said he was going to fetch someone called Irileth, so I guess this is her.
"Are they safe?" Irileth asks plainly as she approaches, cutting to the point as she looks at the two Popo behind me.
"They're tame, but no beast is truly safe," I scoff. Even a well-trained horse might decide to kick you in the head if you treat it wrong. Irileth's frown actually lessens slightly at my blunt words. "I'm Jorgen, of Chillbloom Farm. I wrote ahead, and Jarl Balgruuf gave me permission to bring them."
"He did. It's the only reason you got this close to the gates with those giants," Irileth admits, giving me a nod. "I spoke to the stablemaster after we received your letter and he agreed to let you keep them on his land. The guards will watch your carriage, though I can't guarantee nothing will be stolen from it if it is left unattended. They have more to do than to sit around watching your goods all day."
"Much appreciated," I say, mildly surprised by the warm welcome. "Is there anything I should know about doing business in Whiterun?"
"No. There are no particular laws around it that aren't also in place in the rest of Skyrim. As the Hold in the center of Skyrim, we have plenty of merchants visiting to do business. Unlike the Khajiit caravans, you wrote ahead and got permission so you are welcome to do business inside the city walls," Irileth replies plainly. "Lady Danica, it is good to see you've returned from your… pilgrimage unharmed."
"It's good to be home, Housecarl," Danica greets as she moves away from the Popo she'd been feeding a treat for its hard work. We made great time because the Popo's didn't stop to sleep until we got here. They're hardy beasts, for certain. "Jorgen, I'm going to go and speak to the acolytes at the temple. I've stayed in touch but parchment can only say so much. Please come and see me when you are free. I hope there won't be any issues with him entering the city, Irileth?"
"Of course not. Jarl Balgruuf has requested that you come to Dragonsreach, Jorgen, but it is not a matter of urgency. In fact, it may be better for you to visit tomorrow rather than today as the Jarl is a busy man with recent events," Irileth explains, making me blink in surprise.
"I wasn't expecting to get his attention, to be frank," I admit. "But that's fine with me."
Maybe it's because I'm a Thane of Winterhold now, not just some common merchant?
"Surely you jest?" Irileth asks, looking surprised. "You left before anyone could thank you, but your deed in slaying the dragon that was attacking the Eastern Watchtower likely saved Whiterun from repeating Helgen's fate!"
Feat Achieved: Slay Mirmulnir, 200cp granted. 400cp total.
"Ah, right. Well, I was on a time limit and didn't have time to stay behind. I was needed in Markarth," I explain, scratching my chin. Fuck you, Sam. I'll piss in your ale next time we drink together. Getting me roped into dragon slaying antics.
"Oh, we know. Word of your divine mission has reached us, and nobody can blame you for not staying around when you had a mission from Lady Dibella herself," Irileth reassures me, and I realise something. She's not frowning because she's a stern woman. She's trying not to look scared in front of someone who could uppercut her to the stars. Vague memories of me wrestling a dragon flash through my head as Sam cheers me on, the guards staring in bafflement as I grab the dragon by the tail and spin it around.
Ugh… maybe I should go home, and never leave Chillbloom again. I can't face the consequences of my actions if I just bury my head in my bedsheets.
"Hmph," I grunt, because I have no idea what else to say. Irileth looks mildly nervous before she hides it, but Danica speaks up.
"Don't mind Jorgen, Housecarl. He is a humble man and finds speaking of his deeds troublesome," Danica explains for me. Irileth's eyes light up as she lets out a sound of recognition, nodding firmly.
"I see. A man of action, not words," Irileth says approvingly. "I'll tell the men not to bother you for details while you are here. As a representative of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, it is our honour to have you in our hold, Dragonborn."
How do you kill a Daedric prince again?
Pausing, I turn and give the Throat of the World a glare. Go on, old men, do your rumbling voice thing again, I dare you. I can't grow shit up on that mountain so it isn't any of my business.
– Danica Pure-Spring –
As Jorgen began the ritual, she ignored the gathering crowds and made a mental note to smack some of the acolytes across the head later. It was no real surprise that so many people were showing up to watch, as the Gildergreen had been a source of pride for Whiterun before its destruction and Jorgen was also the 'Dragonborn' as far as Whiterun was concerned.
It didn't help that he'd apparently ran up to Whiterun, beaten a dragon to death, then ran off.
Jorgen hated the attention, but how could the world not lavish it upon him when he went and did stuff like that? The bards had almost certainly begun to turn it into some ballard, which she was sure would bring him more embarrassment.
She could even see the bard who usually hung around the Bannered Mare watching from a distance. She never liked him, he wasn't that good at singing, only knew the same few songs and constantly made passes at the acolytes. Lady Kynareth didn't demand chastity but that didn't mean she wanted her acolytes being talked out of their robes by some would-be ladies man.
Planting the weirwood seed underneath the withered Gildergreen, she nodded to Jorgen as she knelt on the opposite side of the tree, focusing on her new powers. She knew she was still a novice compared to Jorgen, and never was it more clear than here and now as she felt the difference between her small but stable pool of 'green' mana compared to the seemingly endless roaring inferno that was his own mana. As he worked his magic, she helped him as best she could but he was far better with plants than her, and really she was just supplying her own mana to the pool. Not a drop in the ocean, at least, but still a bucket poured into a full well.
The whispers of the nosy watchers and her acolytes increased as their magic began to do its divine work. The power of nature itself flooding the clearing as flowers grew rapidly and more importantly… the Gildergreen began to shift.
In truth, she'd been ready to dig up the roots of the Gildergreen and replace it entirely but Jorgen had been the one to suggest they do things this way. It was harder, merging the power of the Weirwood with the withered and dying tree, but the Gildergreen had long been a symbol of Lady Kynareth's power and he was right that it felt wrong just to dispose of it, especially when the tree was clinging to life.
Instead, they breathed new life into it, healing the damage done as the bark turned to a pure white and began to grow. She was forced to stand up and move back as the base of the tree grew thicker to the point of it barely fitting in the clearing, and for every inch it grew wide, it gained a foot in height. Even she had to restrain herself as she stared up in shock, seeing the already blooming red leaves of the Gildergreen. If that was what it still was.
Weirgreen? Gilderwood? Well, she was sure some bard would come up with a new name eventually. What mattered was that she could feel the power of Lady Kynareth in every branch of the massive heart tree, enervating the flora around it. She suspected that the duties of her temple would be far easier now, as the power of nature saturated the air, the new heart tree towering over her humble temple. Even now, she could feel her mana tingling, wanting to be used and she could tell many of her acolytes felt the same. She'd have to keep an eye on their restoration magic to see how it had changed. The last thing she needed was one of the fools getting carried away with this new power.
Reaching out with her new magic, she sent her mind into the heart tree, feeling her Goddess power flowing through her veins. Never before had she felt so close to Lady Kynareth-
'-told them to mind their own business but no, first that damned drunk shows up and then Dibella grabs him for a 'divine quest'. Ha! What is divine about getting all your priestesses bred just so you can piggyback of their feelings, you damn harlot. Divine booty call, more like. Ugh, Dibby has been so damn smug since then but guess what, Jorgen just gave me a truly amazing gift and I didn't even have to take my clothes off for it so- wait, can she hear me? Oh fuck-'
The sudden silence left Danica blinking, carefully considering what she just heard. After a long moment of consideration, Danica nodded to herself. Clearly just an auditory hallucination or illusion.
The Heart tree shuddered in what Danica could almost swear she recognised as embarrassment and gratitude.
– Jorgen –
It turns out the restoration of the Gildergreen is a cause for celebration in Whiterun. And how do you celebrate the return of a living piece of the Great Lady Kynareth? By getting drunk, of course. We're Nords, after all.
Which means little real business is going to get done today, because I'm the man of the hour and I can't get away from the wellwishers to go and make connections with the local stores. Ah well, I'm in no rush. Especially now that the heart tree is here so I can pop back home in an instant.
Feat Achieved: Restore the Gildergreen, 200cp. 600cp total.
[Night Hunter] - 400cp, 200cp remaining
Source: Fate/Legends - Empires of Antiquity
Death from afar, the flying strike that lays low both demigods and great beasts before they even knew they were under attack. You have skill with a bow and arrow that can only be called divine, capable of using even a normal bow to clip the wings from a fly deep in a forest, while in another forest entirely. Should you be in combat at closer ranges, you'll find yourself somehow just as effect, firing off arrows at speeds that leave modern machine guns struggling to approach your fire rate and even using your bow itself as a deadly weapon. Much of this is due to outrageous, unnatural skill with a bow but it is greatly aided by the unbelievably advanced senses you have. Each of your senses has hundreds of times the strength, accuracy and acuity of a human and is well suited for high speed movement and long distance observation. You could fight ably in complete darkness just by relying on any one sense but sight and your senses are even able to pierce through strong magical illusions and protections. Should you have any sort of magical detection already, it will also be far sharper.
Bah. Archery? What kind of milk drinker do you take me for? If I need range, I'll throw the Leviathan Axe. If I'm going to kill a man, I'll do it face to face. The senses are amazing, and I won't deny that I have a deep temptation to challenge Aela to a competition of marksmanship to see just how good I really am now.
[Long] - 200cp, 0cp remaining
Source: Chinese Mythology
The dragons of eastern myth have long been seen as deities associated with water; be it the rivers, rains, or seas. You hold similar authority and powers, able to invoke rain and thunderstorms, control the rivers and seas and manipulate water. Your presence is larger than life; commanding and regal, your stature being greater than the mediocre individuals around you. Your voice also holds weight in most discussions and discourse, so long as you have a mote of expertise in the subjects of those.
I'm already taller than most of the people here, but I can almost sense the moment I get this. The crowd grows more… deferential in the face of the Dragon amongst them (but not a Dragonborn). Not that I plan to lord over them as I encourage them to return to their merrymaking, sharing some of the Chillbloom booze I brought with me and buying everyone another round.
Well, I won't say not to a power that convinces people not to fuck with me. Between my size, reputation, weapons, monsters, powers and now this, it would take someone truly stupid to-
"Chillbloom? Oh, that tiny frozen patch of land up north?" a condescending voice sneers. "Nothing compared to my Chillfurrow Farm, of course."
Turning to face the speaker, I make eye contact with a smarmy looking redguard.
"And you must be Jorgen. Do you get to the Cloud District very often? Oh, what am I saying, of course you don't."
…Lady Kynareth, give me strength.
— Bonus Scene — Ranni the Witch
She had told Cirilla that she would help aid her in dealing with the Wild Hunt, but in truth she'd long since decided to not include the Child of the Elder Blood in this scheme. It was a risk that she saw no reason to take. If Cirilla was here, they could potentially win by grabbing her and escaping, which she found untenable. There was no need for such a risk to be taken, after all.
Activating her spell, she watched the Eye of Magnus lit up. The Staff of Magnus thrummed with power in her hand. The Dragon Priest had been an amusing opponent, in truth. She had enjoyed a chance to flex her magical muscles once more. Savos Aren believed she would die facing Morokei, but she was not so limited. The enchantments upon the lich did not drain her mana as it believed, expecting her to be a mage rather than an Empyrean. It was a troublesome opponent, indeed, but one that died all the same.
The Eye glowed with mana, the energy a beacon to anyone who was paying attention. Her spell, weaved to perfection, did its work as she waited and watched. It wasn't long before they came, rushing to grasp this chance. Cirilla had told her that Jorgen had unknowingly killed the Wild Hunt's best navigator, and without him, tracking her was a far harder task.
So, when the Hunt happened upon a sign of the Elder Blood, what could they do but charge in to claim the prize they had hunted for so long. Their portals opened, and her spell did its work as she… redirected them.
They would not arrive in this world to inconvenience Cirilla or Jorgen, she would not permit it. Instead, she simply nudged them to the side slightly as their portals opened in a connected, but very different, realm.
With the Eye of Magnus, her own scrying spells were far stronger and she watched as this great king Eredin stormed the portal, leading his forces to their long-awaited victory. She watched him stumble at the fire and death around him, realising the danger as the Dremora descended upon him, then she smiled at his shock as his portals sputtered out and left him and his followers stranded in the Deadlands. He fought, and he fought well, but in Oblivion, the Dremoras numbers were endless and soon Eredin fell to foreign magic and daedric blades.
This was no Night of Black Knives, but it was an amusing scheme all the same.
The Wild Hunt would not live to bother them.
Author's Note: Shorter chapter today because I've really not been feeling that well lately. Not sure what I caught.
Fucking Skyrim. It was a bitch and a half to work out if Morrowind was still a part of the Empire. The closest I got to an answer was a single line of dialogue about the Empire 'releasing its grasp on Morrowind' from a member of House Redoran in Raven Rock.
If I can't work it out with a wiki, I figure Jorgen probably doesn't know either.
Written: 24/03/2026