Sovngarde

Sovngarde is beautiful. I've never been one to think overmuch on the afterlife or where I go when I die, but if it's here, or somewhere like here, the thought of death doesn't frighten me so much. The sky is rich with colour and there's a deep fog that gives everything a dream-like feel.

Then Alduin swoops down and eats a dead Nord. Okay, now I'm less at peace. Apparently this fog is his and he uses it to hunt down souls to replenish his strength. That is not cool, and I will put a stop to it.

I make my way through the swirling mist and eventually arrive at the base of an enormous bridge across an apparently bottomless chasm. There's a bare-chested Nord who calls himself Tsun waiting there who approaches. It seems he guards the bridge to Shor's Hall and is less than satisfied by my claim to being Dragonborn. I suppose it is less impressive here. Anyway, he challenges me to the Warrior's Test before I can pass. This is not going to end well.

It actually ends alright, but I have to keep him distracted with my flame atronach, which he banished with a single swing of his sword. I'm able to keep up my summoning but boy that weapon looks nasty. One hit and I would fall as hard as my atronach.

At last he gives way, apparently I fought well. I avoid eye contact and slide past him onto the bridge.

Shors Hall is enormous, and as heroic as the name suggests. Inside are the fallen heroes of Skyrim, and a few faces I recognise. The Nords who talked a lot before banishing Alduin are here, and it seems they still like to talk a lot. For a group who seem to be all about action, I'm itching to get out there and face Alduin while they're discussing it at great length.

At last we head back across the bridge and combine the power of our shouts to push back Alduin's mist. He doesn't like that in the slightest, and we prepare ourselves for the final battle with this great menace.

It goes down much like before, except instead of Paarthunax at my side I have three Nordic heroes. I try to keep myself and them alive, as well as keeping Alduin on the ground with my shout. It's all going fairly well until my companions start sinking to their knees. I could handle them individually, but when they're all gasping for life Alduin has nobody left to attack but me. I'm burning through all my magicka just maintaining a ward spell and whatever healing I need to stay alive and it seems that when I can spare some to heal them, they fall back down just as quickly.

Slowly I get them back on their feet, and the relief from Alduin's assault gives me the excess magicka I need to restore their health fully. Alduin weakens and finally the battle comes to a close.

The heroes back off and I expect to see Alduin slump lifeless to the ground, but he doesn't. He looks defeated to me. There are no more flames or shouting and he's hunched over like an old Hargraven, but it's not over yet. I look over at the Nords. They look back at me. Is this some kind of Nordic honour thing? I'm supposed to deliver the final blow? I try to assure them that it's not necessary, but they won't budge.

I summon my atronach who just does a twirl and looks at me like there's not a giant world-eating dragon right behind it, that it could finish with a single blow.

Seriously, this is getting awkward. What do they all expect me to do.

I look at Alduin. I look at my hands. I look back at Alduin. The Nords look at me encouragingly. They must think there's something wrong with me. What, have they never seen somebody NOT deal any damage?

Apprehensively I let the magicka slip from my fingers and clench them into a fist. It feels weird and wrong, but it appears that it's what I must do to save the world... I walk over to Alduin...

And I punch the World-Eater in the face.

The result is spectacular!! He reels backwards, lines of energy splitting across the surface of his scales. He roars and screams and then it seems like the skin is ripped from his body and his soul is torn out! In his final moments he looks to the heavens and cries out to Akatosh, his father, but there is no mercy. With a final, fiery explosion that knocks us all to the ground, it is over. The purple mist fades, natural light returns to Sovngarde and the heroes cry out in exultation.

Personally I'm feeling extremely conflicted. I did what I had to do, but I don't feel that good about it. The warrior guard Tsun (who notably didn't lend a hand in the fight) comes over and seems about to express consolation in my moment of distress. Instead he simply tells me that my work is done and I need to leave. Will nobody ever show me sincere gratitude?

He bids me farewell and then uses a shout to return me to Tamriel. I arrive back the the Throat of the World, and it seems Paarthunax and I are not alone. There's a half-dozen other dragons perched on the mountain, and they're all shouting at me. It seems like some final recognition of my place in the world, and their respect for my power.

As each concludes their greeting, they fly off into the night. Finally it is just Paarthunax and myself. Old Parthy seems relieved, yet sad. Alduin was after all a brother to him, but he needed to be stopped. With a final farewell he takes off into the sky and it's just myself, the stars and the mountain.

I take a moment to reflect on my journey. Thrust into a violent world with no wish to do violence to another I've risen above adversity to forge my own path. I've defeated dragons and undead, bent hordes of enemies to my will and I even raised that little goat back to life... temporarily.

In return I've received thankless tasks, been left to fend for myself, even been met with hostility by those I've tried to help. I've been set alight, covered in cobwebs and everywhere in this damn place is cold.

I'm not really sure why I came to Skyrim in the first place, but this definitely wasn't what I had in mind. With the world now safe from Alduin's menace I'm leaving this place and never looking back. I'm heading straight for the Summerset Isle, straight for home.