Ranmir huddled in the woods.
The Foodie hadn't returned, and after encountering two highwaymen, he fled in a hurry, leaving his belongings behind and only running up the mountain.
Finally, he passed through the woods and saw the Troll sitting atop the fortress ahead.
"Hey! Foodie! Are you ready?!"
Simon turned his head and saw Ranmir waving, while deep in the woods, an archer slowly drew his bowstring, the arrowhead glinting faintly with a cold light.
The Troll raised his hand and launched a Sleeve Flying Swallow, which flew past the drunkard's ear, killing the attacker and absorbing his soul. However, Simon ignored the soul, letting it ascend, and thus did not expose his Necromancy to the drunkard.
Now, the number of Necromancers had reached sixty-five, temporarily sufficient for his magical experiments. A single trip had brought him a bountiful harvest; it seemed wealth was found in activity.
Ranmir was somewhat startled. Simon made a few leaps, scaled the low wall, and came to the drunkard's side. At this moment, Ranmir was chugging alcohol to calm his nerves. He could do without his luggage, but the alcohol was essential.
"Let's go."
Ranmir exhaled a stinky alcoholic breath, "Is it dealt with? How does revenge taste? They say it feels great."
"Not bad." Simon touched his inner pocket. His mother's diary was there, and he could flip through it from time to time.
The Troll led Ranmir back to the foothills where their luggage was stored. The bandits who had stolen their things were happily sorting through Simon and his companion's valuables before being cut down.
The people of Winterhold didn't even tolerate regular mages, so how could they look favorably upon a Necromancer? Simon had no intention of displaying any magic in front of them.
This kind of discrimination against mages was very common throughout Skyrim. Jonas was not well-liked in Winterhold either; people were only friendly to him because the boy had a highly reputable relative, the Foodie.
Returning to Winterhold, the food store should be opening soon.
The following days seemed to return to peace.
Simon often read his mother's diary and learned that she was actually from the town of Ivarstead. This town belonged to The Rift, also known as Shrubbery Town, located at the eastern foot of Skyrim's highest peak, High Hrothgar, and on the western shore of Lake Kyne.
High Hrothgar is also a crucial part of the main quest in the game. The Greybeards, masters of the Way of the Voice, reside in the monastery on the mountain.
The Voice, also known as the Dragon Shout or Thu'um, is Dragon Language magic—a very powerful force.
The Ancient Nord ancestors, their mastery of the Dragon Language had a difficult and winding historical origin, with various truths and falsehoods mixed, myths and conjectures intertwined. As a result, later scholars found it very difficult to verify how the Dragon Shout was mastered by the Nords and how it disappeared among the general populace. There are various theories, and scholars hold differing opinions.
In Nord legends, the Dragon Shout was taught to them by the goddess Kyne (or some say Kyne's daughter) to fight against dragons and their minions, the Dragon Cult.
In the game, the first Dragon Shout was taught to humans by a dragon named Paarthurnax. This dragon was actually the lieutenant of Alduin, the World-Eater, but chose to side with humans due to disagreements with Alduin. The name Paarthurnax roughly translates to 'Cruelty' or 'Overlord'. He resides year-round at the summit of High Hrothgar, also known as the Throat of the World, Kyne's Tower, the Snow-Throat, and one of the pillars of the world.
As for how the Dragon Shout disappeared? Later generations know little about this, but it can be confirmed that the Dragon Shout gradually faded from history after the defeat in the Battle of Red Mountain.
The Dragon Shouts of the Ancient Nords shook the heavens and earth. When they gathered, they could shout down city walls and even traverse time, changing history. Such power is now only preserved in the monastery on High Hrothgar.
For most Nords, the ancestral Shouts left them only with the innate Battle Cry. Nord warriors could use the Battle Cry to crush the courage of their enemies, yet not everyone could do this; those who could use the Battle Cry were the elites among the Nords.
Simon also missed the Dragon Shout. The familiar three syllables of Unrelenting Force—Fus, Ro, Dah—how many players would be moved to tears by this Shout and feel compelled to adventure in Skyrim once more?
[Quest: Falling Leaves Return to Roots]
Description: My mother died in a foreign land. I want to take her tears and visit her hometown.
Quest 1 (Unfinished): Travel to Ivarstead.
[Quest: Memories of the Shout]
Description: As a player, I cannot miss the most essential content. I want to visit the High Hrothgar monastery, experience the Way of the Voice, and put my emotions into action.
Quest 1 (Unfinished): Travel to High Hrothgar.
The Troll sat behind a long table in the food store, facing a bustling crowd. Customers were selecting the delicacies he had prepared, and their chatter was filled with joy. His gaze passed over the moving silhouettes of people, and through the glass display window, he could see the thick, deep snow on the streets of Winterhold—snow that could be seen all year round, cold. The snowberries among the thick snow were about to ripen; their stems were already withered, but the fruits remained plump.
How wonderful it is. In this world, do not fear not surviving, nor fear death. Some things transcend life and death; some things stand between life and death.
Simon suddenly felt much better. Ever since avenging his mother, the gloomy and depressed thoughts that had weighed him down dissipated, and the tightness in his chest cleared. He couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Someone curiously asked, "What's so funny?"
The Troll clutched his stomach, "You know, what if one day I'm walking down the road and a High Elf mage robs me, wanting to offer my skin to an intelligent Troll, begging it to kill all the Nord barbarians in Skyrim? I ask him why he wants to kill Nords, and he says some Imperial called 'Nord Barbarian' always speaks ill of the Thalmor! What do you think, isn't that funny?"
No one knew what kind of fit the Foodie was having when he said this; everyone booed him.
Amidst a chorus of "Ewws," Simon laughed so hard he fell under the table.
Yes, a bad joke is certainly not funny, but what's funny is the person telling the joke. His unrestrained, wild laughter made many others unable to help but laugh as well. The people in Winterhold liked to laugh, but they had never laughed so nonsensically before.
Simon's joke was still not understood by anyone. When people gathered in front of the food store next weekend, they found the 'Closed' sign once again hung high.
Where was the Troll now? He had taken Jonas and set off.
Crossing the Tundra, they traveled south to the White River, walking along its banks, passing through Windhelm, several farms, crossing the obstructing Yorgrim River, and continuing south along the White River's edge.
They stopped and started along the way, killing bandits they encountered, driving away wild beasts, staying for two days wherever human settlements appeared. Sometimes they chatted with the fishermen by the river, showed off their cooking skills, fished, and caught crabs.
The Mudcrabs in Skyrim are enormous, often with a diameter like a millstone, their carapaces resembling short cones. Hiding in the mud, they wield their pincers to attack any prey that approaches.
Big crabs are truly satisfying to eat. A mouth full of crab meat, fresh, smooth, and tender, dipped in a few drops of aged vinegar, paired with a cold beer—that's the classic gout-inducing meal. Now, that's living.
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