Chapter 5:

Ivarstead was a small village, it had a farm and a inn for anyone coming here to climb the stairs that snaked it's way up the large mountain. On the trip there Sara got a bit more information on the local dangers the land was known to have. Lydia was helpful on that at least, telling Sara about the draugr and the large rat like thing she came across, a skeever, nasty things they were. The minute they entered the small village Sara got the feeling not many came out this way unless it was to climb the path for whatever reasons. The whole town seemed resign to this and didn't make much of her passing, just another traveler making a trip.

Sara wasn't sure what she would find, but without any hesitating she starts to climb the stairs. It wasn't a straight path, it would turn some, turn step, some of the path had worn away with time. She only crossed a few people, mostly those that stopped to meditate at the dotting plaques that seemed to detail some history on 'The way of the Voice'. Luckily it wasn't to dangerous, the only thing that was of any real danger was a frost troll, that harmed itself jumping down from it's high perch to attack the newest trespassers. Sara took it down with her bow, wondering why it jumped like that and shrugs.

It wasn't long before the two travelers had made it to High Hrothgar. It was a large towering fortress that looked like it had been here since the dawn of time. Sara makes her way to the door, it almost felt like she was barging in, but they did call for her. She heads inside, to find the place pleasantly warm. The entry was a large room, more stairs that lead up and out back, and two side halls. One to the left and one to the right. A single man walks up to her. He wore a dark old robe and, as the name suggested, had a beard.

He gives her an honest look as he folds his hands in front of himself. "Greetings to you, did you perhaps hear our call?" Sara tilts her head as three other older males, dressed in the same robes step out to greet her. Sara lowers her head, unsure what to make of this. The leader just seems to smile at her. "I am Master Arngeir, allow me to guide you, if you are truly Dragonborn." Sara shows him the same power she used on the guards. The old man staggers a bit as she covers her mouth. "Sorry." He lets out a low laugh. "Do not worry, with training, you will learn the way of the voice."

He was kind and he takes a moment to really explain what all of this really meant. "Dragon shouts, also known as The Voice or a Thu'um are phrases of dragon language, consisting of three separate words of power, that can be used to unleash varied powerful effects. Dragons are naturally able to use dragon shouts, but very few people possess this capability. As the Dovahkiin or Dragonborn, you, a mortal, have the soul of a dragon, you were born with this power." Sara nods slowly as this sinks in.

With the monks help, they teach her the second word to the only shout she knew at the moment. Which together was Fus Ro, allowing her more force behind the shout. Once she got that down, they also taught her something new Wuld, or whirlwind in their language. With this, Sara could sprint a short amount of distance, in a blink of an eye. Useful, but it had one hell of a backlash. No doubt something she needed to get used to. After a bit of help Sara got a feel of what she was doing and smiles. They were outside in the back area of the fortress.

"Thank you Master Arngeir." The monk gives her a warm smile. It had been ages since they had the pleasure of teaching anyone the way of the voice. (Outside of Ulfric Stromcloak but he kept his mouth shut). "Of course Dragonborn, if you ever need anything, High Hrothgar is open to you, I ask one favor of you before you leave." Sara nods at him, it was the least she could do for the guy after all. "Shot." He gives her an odd look, youngsters. "I would like for you to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, he is the founder of the Way of the Voice and the horn once belonged to him. It's last known whereabouts were in a ruin named Ustengrav, think of this as a test."

Sara nods and bows her head, time to make her way back to Whiterun to figure out where this ruin was. Well Arngeir pointed it out, but she didn't really trust herself to find it on her own and Lydia wasn't one-hundred percent on where it was herself. So it was time to ask her fellow Companions on more information. When she reached the door of Jorrvaskr an older male seemed to be waiting for her. Much like Vilkas, he wore a heavy set armor with a wolf on the breastplate. "Well the whelp finally shows up to work.."

Skjor was an older male, his right eye was milky white with a scar over his face. No doubt an old battle scar, he seemed fine without that line of sight as Sara looks up. "Sorry sir, things to do..." She blinks, where did Lydia run off to? She shrugs a bit. "Was there something you need me to do right sir?" He nods as he calls over Farkas. "I need you to go to Dustman's Cairn, we caught word that there might be a piece of Wuuthrad hiding in there." Sara tilts her head at this. "What's Wuuthrad?" Skjor lets out a sigh, but answers her. "It's a weapon, a battleaxe said to once belonged to the founder of the Companions, Ysgramor. It has been our duty for countless years to find the pieces and put it back together in it's glory."

Sara nods, the horn would have to wait. This seemed a bit more important as Skjor gives her one last bit of detail. "Farkas will be your shield-brother in this quest, don't you dare get him killed." He lets out a low sound, another wolf as Sara gives him a nod before looking at the man beside her. He was handsome in his own right, long dark hair, clear crystal grey eyes, hard to believe he was a Nord. "Mind if we get some supplies before we head out?" He nods and leads her to the nearest store Whiterun had to offer. She takes a moment to really think on what they could use. Extra healing potions, maybe a few new spells and some other things. Once she was done Farkas leads the way.