Samuel made it back to Riverwood, shivering from the cold mountaintops. He hired a carriage to Whiterun and walked up to Dragonreach. He entered Farengar's office.
A woman in a brown hood an iron armor was talking to Farengar.
"You see?" said Farengar. "The terminology is First Era or even earlier--"
Samuel placed the Dragonstone on the table.
"Ah!" said Farengar. "The Dragonstone! Seems you're a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way."
"I got the Dragonstone. What next?" asked Samuel.
"This is where your job ends and mine begins. The work of the mind, sadly undervalued in Skyrim. My...associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me."
"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that?" asked the woman. "Nice work."
Irileth ran into the room, sword drawn.
"Farengar!" she yelled. "Farengar, you need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted nearby."
"A dragon!" exclaimed Farengar, his eyes lighting up. "What's its wingspan? Where was it seen? What was it doing? How much--"
"I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you. If it decides to attack Whiterun I don't know if we could stop it."Irileth looked at Samuel. "You should come too."'
The wizard turned to Irileth. "Have the guards haul in the body when--I suppose IF is a better word--you kill it."
She nodded and gestured to Samuel to follow her.
They ran upstairs, where the door to the porch and the Jarl's quarters were located. There was also a war room, with a map of Skyrim was located. Jarl Balgruff was pacing the room, a huge battleaxe strapped to his back.
A guard with a missing helmet and ripped-up armor was already there.
"So, Irileth tells me you came from the Western Watchtower," said Jarl Balgruff to the guard.
"That's right. We saw it coming from the south. It was fast...faster than anything I've ever seen."
"What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?"
"No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life...I thought it would come after me for sure."
The Jarl nodded. "Good work, son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it. Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."
"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate."
"Good. Don't fail me."
Irileth ran out of the room to the doors.
Jarl Balgruff looked at Samuel. "There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need your help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But I haven't forgotten the service you did for me by retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar."
He walked over to a chest and pulled out a full set of steel armor, helmet, breastplate, leggings, and boots.
"Put this on. Quickly! It'll protect you more than that Stormcloak's amor you're wearing!"
Samuel ran out of the city and saw the Western Watchtower in ruins. It was on fire, the door was missing, and the stairway leading up to the doorway was strewn everywhere in separate pieces. Five other guards were at the tower.
"No signs of any dragon right now, but it sure looks like he's been here." said Irileth. "I know it looks bad, but we've got to figure out what happened. And if that dragon is skulking around somewhere. Spread out and search for survivors. We need to know what we're dealing with."
Samuel walked near the entrance and saw a guard huddled against the door frame.
"No! Get back!" he cried. "It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"
Irileth ran over to them. "What happened here! Where's this dragon?"
"I don't know..."
Behind the mountains, a loud, sickening roar was heard. The dragon was named Mirmulnir, and was incredibly old. He was vanquished by the Blades almost a thousand years before, but somehow, he returned.
"Kynareth save us, here he comes again!" yelled the guard.
Mirmulnir swooped down to the group of people and scooped up a guard in his claws. Each hand was the size of a trash can, the dragon's whole body two times bigger than the spider Samuel killed in Bleak Falls Barrow.
The dragon, for amusement, dropped the guard right in the middle of a Whiterun street. He flew back toward the watchtower, when he took an arrow to the knee. (Bonus points for you if you got that reference. If not, shame on you.)
Mirmulnir fell to the ground, but was only seven feet in air, so he lived. Samuel, fearing for his life as well as the lives of the guards, drew his sword and leaped onto Mirmulnir's back. 'The dragon once again took off into the air, several hundred feet above the ground. He shook off the puny human on his back, who then shoved his sword in the dragons leg, and held onto the hilt. Gallons of blood, which is the equivalent of pints of blood for a dragon, gushed out of the wound. Samuel was enveloped in the dragons wings, which he forced shut. The terrible beast died of blood loss before it hit the ground.
"That crazy man..." said an astonished guard. "He's dead!"
"The important thing is," said Irileth. "Is that the damn dragon is too."
The dragon's wings, which were wrapped around the beast's body, opened up. A man soaked in blood stumbled off the dragon's body, still holding his sword.
The crowd of guards gasped. Mirmulnir's scales began burning, then came off entirely. The floating scales became a wind, an electric blue wind, which went inside Samuel.
"I can't believe it..." said a guard. "You're...Dragonborn!"
"The what?" said Samuel. "Is this another stupid, made-up Nord story?"
"In the very oldest tales, back when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay them and steal their power. That's what you did isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"
"I don't know what happened to me..." said Samuel.
"There's only one way to find out. Try to Shout. According to the old legends, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training, like the Greybeards do."
The other guards walked over. "Dragonborn?" said one. "What are you talking about?"
"That's right!" said another! "My grandfather used to tell me stories about the Dragonborn. Those born with the Dragon Blood in 'em. Like old Tiber Septim himself."
"I've never heard of Tiber Septim killing any dragons."
"That's because there weren't any dragons then, idiot. They're just coming back now for the first time in...forever."
"But the old tales tell of the Dragonborn who could kill dragons and steal their power! You must be one!"
"What do you say, Irileth? You're being awfully quiet."
The Dark Elf sighed. "Hmph. Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don't know anything about. Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some mythical Dragonborn. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enough for me."
"You wouldn't understand, Housecarl. You ain't a Nord," said a guard.
"I've been all across Tamriel!" exclaimed Irileth. "I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this. I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword over tales and legends."
A guard turned to Samuel. "If you really are Dragonborn, out of the old tales, you ought to be able to Shout. Can you? Have you tried?"
Samuel felt the dragon's power burning within him. He opened his mouth and released it.
The sound waves traveled over the guard, knocking him to the ground.
"That was Shouting! Must be, what you just did. You really are Dragonborn, then..."
Irileth placed a hand on Samuel's shoulder. "That was the hairiest fight I've ever been in, and I've been in more than a few. I don't know about this Dragonborn business, but I'm glad you're with us. You'd better get back to Whiterun. Jarl Balgruff will want to know what happened here."