The throbbing in my head kept me tossing and turning all through the night. Not being able to sleep, I got up before the others and went outside. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and the snow had let up. Only a few flakes swirled around me. But the fog was as grey and thick as ever.
Not wanting to wake the others, I climbed the steps of the tower to clear my head. This headache would not go away, it seemed. As I got closer to the top, my head began to throb. And then it dawned on me. “There’s a Word Wall nearby!"
I stepped out into the cold and looked around. The fog had begun to thin out a bit as the sun began to show its face. A moment later, the fog unfolded and a dragon stood hovering before me.
The sounds of screeching and fire blasts woke up my companions, and in minutes they had scrambled outside to see what was going on.
”YOL TOOR!“ I shouted.
The frost dragon reared back to brace itself against the ballast of fire I hurled at it.
Down below, I could hear Marcurio shouting at the creature to get its attention, but the dragon ignored them. This one was only interested in me.
“I know a shortcut to Riften,” said Duraz. “It’s an old Orc trade route.”
We left the main road and followed her into the forest. After a while, we found a well-worn dirt trail that led us into the foothills. “This trail will take us through a hidden valley and lead us back to the main road near Largashbur.”
We followed the trail deeper into the foothills. As the day went on, the weather began to change. Soon we were wading through a thickening fog. “Looks like another one of Skyrim’s famous snowstorms is brewing,” said Marcurio, brushing off the light flakes from his shoulders.
“We’ll have to make camp, soon,” I said.
“We might not have to,” replied Duraz. “There is an abandoned fort just up ahead. We can stay there for the night.”
We reached the fort right before the snowstorm began. Just as Duraz had said, we found the place ready with a cooking pit and some wood to make a fire. We would stay here for the night.