The Great Hunt of the Traveller

Tell me, O Dibella, of the many turns of the Ancient Traveller, who scoured the lands and mountains of the Heavenly Edge, and who escaped many a great threat with his armour and flesh unscathed, by the blessing of the God of the Circle of Life, who brought him back many a time, and of how he fell on the faithful day by the hands of his enemies, and how he returned as Not-Himself.

On the Faithful Day, The Traveller, wearied from the hunting his target, made way to an Inn, not too far from the city of Whiterun. When he entered, the guests all gasped at him. His flesh was cut and his armour dented.
When he was put down on a bench, and the priest called for, the owner sat down next to him.
“What is it that made you look like this? Was it a wolf or a bandit?”, he asked.
The Traveller spoke: “Neither. It was from a monster that I was hunting, but it escaped my grasp. It was stronger than anything I encountered before, and surely more than a rabid wolf or a former mercenary. “
The patrons were now all looking at the man.
The owner spoke: “Surely, those are the most dangerous things in these lands. What is greater than they?”
The traveller began telling his tale.

Many years have I travelled. Many more than any you would give me. During those travels, I have encountered gods and demons, monsters and heroes, war-torn lands and utopia. I will tell you of these.
It started with the fall of Atmora. You all know this tale, so I will not trouble you with recounting it. Many cities and ships burned that night, and I was one of the Five-Hundred. While we made way to Tamriel, my ship was blown off, and we were lost on sea.
After months, we saw land. We hoped to find our companions there, but instead we found a land which was torn by war and treachery. The people looked just like us, but they seemed strange. Their offspring is right in this room, although we didn’t know they were like us then.
We landed, and we were greeted by a chieftain, who called himself with a name that I cannot pronounce. He told me that he was a vassal of the Great Empire that was there, and he said that we were only allowed to stay here if we could help his lord.
Being hungry and weak from the long voyage, we accepted.
We were tasked with finding the Musharragh, a monster from folktales of the people. The monster was said to be as big as a ship, and strong enough to crush one.
We set out, and looked for it. When we stopped looking one night, we made way to a cave. As soon as we entered, a giant boulder was thrown before the door, and two of my men were crushed by a gigantic paw.
“Who is it that disturbs my cave?”, it echoed through the hollow.
“We are no one, great beast, and we mean no harm. We were just looking for a quiet place to sleep.”
“Have you any notion of me, or who I am? I am Musharragh, and I have not eaten in a long while.”
Three other men were grabbed with a huge claw. Musharragh squeezed so hard their eyes popped and their brains went airborne.
Then a giant claw came my way, and tore through my body. I was sure this was the moment I would die.

The next thing I remember was that I was on my ship, adrift on the shores. First, I thought it was just a bad dream, until I noticed none of my men were there, and an unknown blue-robbed figure looked over me.
With my mouth dry from the salty air I murmured: “Who… are y…”
The cloaked figure smiled at me, and spoke: “You know who I am. I am He of the Circle. You were almost dead, but I saved you. Without me, you would surely still be dead.”
I managed to get on my feet, and asked: “Why?”
“Because I have need of you. In the lands to the East, a great monster has disturbed my cycle. He does not care for what I think or what I do, and tries to destroy my work. This should not be possible, but it is. Come, I have had my brother prepare for you new arms and armour, ones that will make you invincible to the common enemy.”
I saw before me the most beautiful set of armour that I had ever laid eyes on, and it is the very same piece that I am wearing now. It has served me well, and always protected me, except for with this enemy.

The patrons were looking flabbergasted by the strange and great stories that they were told. After two hours, the owner spoke again: “But what of this beast? What is it, and how did it bring you here?”
Again, the Traveller spoke.

I met this beast first in the far west from here, in the Whrothgarian mountains. It looked like a simple frost troll, but it was stronger, and had a magical radiation of death and decay around it. According to the man that saved me, he was named Mres.
I first spotted tracks that I could feel were not normal. Again, it looked like that of a troll, but it felt unlike it. I decided to follow them, until I stumbled upon a cave. There, I saw a huge frost troll, with a bad feeling coming from it. I drew my sword and rushed it. Before it knew, its head was rolling on the ground, with its body laying lifeless next to it. Thinking I had won, I sheathed my sword, and turned my back to the cave.
Just as I exited the cave, I was flung through the air, and fell down the mountain. When I got to the bottom and looked up, I saw a similar creature jumping after me, only much greater in size. I knew that this was Mres. Before I could react, I found myself under the foot of this thing, and it broke every bone in my body. I managed to draw my sword, and cut off the foot.
The monster, now wounded, fled away, and I after it.

“And that is why I am here, and why I will leave in the coming hours. If I can have a room to sleep a bit more, and maybe some food, I would be indebted to you.”
The owner got to his food, and prepared a meal for the strange guest. He was impressed by the stories, and fearful of what to come.

The next morning, the Traveller left at earliest light. He followed the trail of blood and footprints to the mountains of Skyrim. Climbing to the top, the Traveller found Mres, wounded and furious. As soon as both locked eyes, the fighting began. Limbs flew and blood spouted. Claws and swords entered flesh and ice and fire burned. The Traveller, with the last of his force, cut through the chest of Mres, and with all of his strength tore out its heart. Mres let out a final bellowing, and crashed down the mountain side.
The Traveller collapsed, and panting with incredible pain, saw a robed figure approaching him.
“You have done well, and for that you shall always remain here, so that you may be an example for other travellers. Rest now, and may you find peace after this, for Mres did not. You shall come back to show your scars to the Travelling."