See Author's note for explanation.
Westeros, Dorne
Year 115 BC (Before Aegon Conquest)
Neferion
He finally crossed the city gate, hiding in the shadow of its walls from the scorching sun that had been accompanying him almost constantly for the past few months since he had come to this strange world. This whole Dorne reminded him too much of his time in Elsweyr, but there at least he had access to spells of a higher rank than the novice's.
The only thing that saved him was his thu'um and shouts based on cold, frost or water, but there was a problem. Using thu'um attracted stares of entities, which he tried to avoid.
He did not know this world or the powers that ruled it. In addition, the fact that he was much weaker in every way than on Nirn did not help. Why was that? He could not say.
He supposed that his magic suffered as a result of limited access to Aetherius, but even though Thu'um draws power from the soul, the separation from his original world also affected its strength.
Another universe, different rules governing the world. It was good that at least he had most of his superhuman physical abilities left. It was always some kind of consolation.
Tearing himself away from his thoughts, he looked with relief at the streets of the city, already hidden in shadow, still crowded, although maybe because of the sun, they were so lively only now.
He was surprised that none of the guards stopped him, unlike in Planky Town, where he had been halted few times during the two moons he spent there, mainly learning the language. Planky Town was a big town with large port, perhaps that was why it was more heavily guarded. That's where most of Dorne's wealth flowed.
However, both the guards and the common folk looked at him with caution and little astonishment, which he understood perfectly well. Even though he had changed his special ebony dragonlord armour for flowing clothes adapted to the climate of this land, his incredibly tall, over seven-foot figure still drew attention.
He stopped at one of the stalls, where a wiry, sunburnt old man was selling fruits and vegetables, although Neferion could only recognise a few of them.
"Good man." He greeted him with what he thought was a sincere smile, but unlike his pointed ears, his reptilian golden eyes could not be hidden under his hood.
Even though he tried to keep hi eyes as narrow as possible, the old man must have noticed them because he grimaced at the sight of him. Dovahkiin had seen the same reaction on the faces of most of the inhabitants of this world he had met so far.
They considered him some kind of freak, a spawn of their hells, or a cursed by dragon from Valyria. However, if life had taught him anything, it was that most people, both mer and humans, were able to swallow their pride or beliefs for the right amount of gold or with a knife at their throats.
"I have only one question, nothing more," he said, pulling out a golden septim, which he held out in front of him.
The old merchant looked at him distrustfully, then grabbed the coin, looked at it carefully and bit it with the side of his jaw.
"Not ours, but it will be. Gold is gold. Ask and begone." he replied, clearly deciding that the coin was real. Lydia would probably say that it was wasteful to give a gold coin in exchange for directions, but he had more wealth than he could spend in his life.
And because of his dovah soul and vitality, he was not in danger of dying of old age or disease. So it could have been a very long life.
Focusing on the old man, he asked, "Where can I find the best inn and place or someone who offers bounties or wanted posters for criminals?"
"There must be someone in the capital who deals with such matters, considering I've been mugged several times during my journey from Planky Town."
The merchant nodded, "Yes, a lone traveller will always be a target for some kind of bandit or marauder." He replied, then looked towards the fortress rising above the city.
"See that keep? That's Sunspear, seat of House Martell, rulers of Dorne. Just before the gate leading into it, on the right side, there will be a large sandstone building. That's the Steadfast Spear Inn. It belongs to Princess Nymeria's uncle, Morgan."
Neferion also looked in that direction, squinting, but even his more than human eyesight couldn't see through the buildings lining the road. "So that's where I should be looking for some notices?" he asked, to which the merchant shook his head.
"No, we don't have anything like notices or wanted posters here. If that's what you're looking for, you'll have to go to Essos. Here, the city guard or Dornish soldiers take care of it."
But a moment later he added, "However, if you sell yourself well to the innkeeper, who is Prince Morgan's man, he may have some work for you. We're close to Essos, so from time to time, even here, a small group of mercenaries will come looking for work. Especially over the last few decades."
"Thank you. I'll take a look then," he said finally and set off along the main street, deftly manoeuvring through the dense crowd while carefully observing the city itself, or rather the town, because to someone who had seen the Imperial City with its three million inhabitants, it was just a small town.
Despite everything, he had to admit that it was well designed in terms of defence. To the untrained eye, the layout of the buildings and streets might seem chaotic, but to him it was a well-thought-out labyrinth, in which each street or alley was constructed in such a way that enemies would get lost and expose themselves to attack from buildings located closer to the fortress itself.
The buildings were mainly made of brick in more brown colours or sandstone, constructed to best protect against the sun and cool the air.
Most of the residents and passersby were dressed in long tunics or cloaks, although some of the wealthier ones, probably from merchant families, walked around in silk cloths surrounded by well-armed guards.
Due to admiring and analysing the city and its inhabitants, it took him almost two hours to reach the indicated place. And even he was already getting tired because he hadn't slept in days, and he had covered 60 miles between Planky Town and Sunspear on foot in this damn sun.
When he stood in front of the three-storey inn, the first thing that caught his eye was that the place was clearly filled with city guards, because as he approached the building, he noticed almost 10 standing around it.
But considering the words of the old merchant regarding the owner of this place, it shouldn't have surprised him at all.
He walked up to the double, solidly made wooden doors and opened them carefully so as not to rip them off their hinges. Often he simply forgot his own strength and had to pay for damages several times. In fact, once in Riften he had hit an Argonian with a torn door, which had started a brawl that had spread to half the city.
Ah, those were the days.
He glanced around the ground floor with curiosity, immediately catching the eyes of at least three dozen regulars, more than half of whom were guards dressed in the colours of House Martell. Bloody bright orange.
Ignoring the stares measuring him, he headed towards the innkeeper bustling behind the bar. A man with typical Dornish features, about thirty-something.
"Hello, friend. I heard you could ask about some kind of job." He greeted, at which the innkeeper stopped and looked at the Dovahkiin carefully, narrowing his black eyes. The fact that, despite his good posture, the man had to tilt his head to look Neferion in the face clearly didn't impress him.
"If you mean a job for a bounty hunter or something like that, then don't count on it. We Dornishmen solve our own problems." the innkeeper replied, then added. "Better take off your hood. It arouses more suspicion here than your exotic features."
Neferion sighed and pulled it off, revealing his unnaturally beautiful face with its Aldmeri golden skin, his long ears and shoulder-length silver hair. His golden eyes with vertical pupils looked around the room without a shadow of hesitation or fear, then rested on the innkeeper again.
The inn fell silent for a moment, but after a moment it was filled with hushed conversations and whispers, now probably about his appearance.
"I heard that in Leng near Yi-Ti there live extremely tall people with golden skin and eyes, but I never expected to see any," the innkeeper said. "I am Niclas."
"Neferion" introduced himself as well but did not disabuse the man of his origin.
He nodded, then said, "Listen, if you can fight and don't care about your life, you can try to kill the Sandtower Beast. Princess Nymeria would definitely reward you well for avenging her brother. But going there is suicide."
When Neferion heard the words 'beast' and 'reward' in one sentence, his mind was already completely locked on the innkeeper's words. Not that he needed money, but he did need adrenaline.
A bloody 8 years of hunting dragons, daedra, monsters, undead and people with extraordinary abilities made him addicted to fighting and the feeling that accompanied exploration. And here he ended up, where no one gave quests, put up bounty posters, and no monster or necromancer lurked at every turn.
"A beast, you say. But what kind of beast could it be that it was allowed to live despite killing the brother of the reigning princess of Dorne? "I thought there was nothing more dangerous in Westeros than wolves, bears, or shadowcats?"
Niclas shook his head, a shadow passing over his face. "Normally, that would be true. But something worse has befallen this old fort. First, 9 years ago, news began to reach Sunspear from nearby villages that cattle and even a peasant or two were missing every now and then."
"Perhaps at first it was taken for peasants' talk?" Neferion interjected, having heard such stories from more than one race, even on Nirn.
"Yes. "That's what they thought," the innkeeper admitted, thoughtfully taking the metal tankard and cleaning it reflexively. "But this all repeated itself for the next two years, so that the previous ruler of Dorne, Nymeria's father, Prince Oberyn, became concerned enough to send a patrol of over a dozen seasoned soldiers to investigate."
"Let me guess. They didn't return."
"Aye, they didn't. It was speculated that a large band of bandits had taken up residence there, but often at night inhuman roars and squeals came from Sandtower, so terrible that only some hell-spawned beast could have made them. So the prince sent his firstborn son Morion at the head of over two hundred chosen soldiers and over a dozen knights."
"None of them returned, and that day from the ruins in the distance all that could be heard were the roars of the beast and the cries of terror and fear of those who went against it."
"Prince Oberyn, although distraught over the loss of his son, had a very cool head and understood that they were dealing with something unnatural, so instead of seeking revenge and risking the loss of more soldiers, he ordered the resettlement of the nearest villages and regularly delivered animals to the vicinity of the ruins so that the beast would not venture further in search of food.
Neferion thought for a moment. From the man's words, it appeared that this was indeed no ordinary animal but some monster powerful enough to have managed to kill two hundred well-armed soldiers. After all, while being in Planky Town, he had heard some stories about it told by the port's inhabitants, but he took them for some local legends and tales.
All in all, for him it was a good opportunity to gain some reputation and goodwill from the people ruling Dorne. He was finally starting to feel like the good old days again, and as a plus, he also had to take into account the fact that the fate of the world no longer rested on his shoulders.
He looked at the innkeeper carefully and asked, "Where are these ruins?"
Niclas looked at him like he was crazy, not believing he was actually planning to go there, and said, "I told you about the beast because I like seeing the faces of people when they hear the story, but I can't believe you're actually considering going there."
Neferion smiled confidently and replied, "This isn't the first beast I've killed." There are all sorts of monsters in my area."
The man looked at him for a moment, then sighed, "Well, the Valyrians have their dragons in the east, and I've heard stories of the beasts that live there. I don't know how you're going to deal with a beast that so many soldiers and knights couldn't handle."
"Never mind. Sandtower is located at the foot of the Dry Mountains to the northwest, between Shandystone and Ghost Hill. When you exit the city's northern gate, the road to the left leads directly to Sandtower, or at least to its vicinity."
"Okay, is there a chance I might be able to buy a horse here in the city, preferably a good one? "I have gold," Neferion said.
"If you can really afford it, I can arrange something. Balin, the stablemaster, probably has a few for sale, but I warn you they won't be cheap. Several thousand gold Dornish suns. His mounts are some of the best in all of Westeros. Balin will come here for a drink tonight as usual, and I'll arrange the transaction for you."
Neferion nodded gratefully. Niclas was more helpful than he had any right to ask.
"That's even better; I'm not looking for a mount that will die halfway there. "How much for a hot meal and a place to stay?"
The innkeeper glanced at the board to the side, where he had written something. Neferion noted that the man was better educated than his profession would suggest.
"I have two rooms with a single bed on the second floor. Two suns a night and five silver moons a meal, unless you want breakfast included tomorrow morning; that would be 3 suns. But if you think that's expensive, you can look for a cheaper inn by the northern gate of the city."
"Agreed, but unfortunately I don't have the coins used here," Dovahkiin replied, and after pulling a few gold septims from his magical bag, he added, "I have a lot of coins from my homeland for that." The amount of gold should be similar. Is that okay?"
Niclas took one of the coins, then looked at them carefully, then placed it on a small scale to the side.
"Hmh. A bit lighter than the suns. "Do you have any silver coins?"
Neferion shook his head, "I do, but they won't be necessary." He put nine more gold coins next to the one he had weighed earlier and added, "This is for the information and help in organising the purchase of the horse."
Niclas smiled slightly at that and said, "It's good to do business with you then. "There's a free table in the corner by the stairs; sit there and I'll bring you some stew in a moment."
Neferion just nodded and went to the indicated place, where he sat comfortably, waiting and listening to the conversations taking place around him, hoping that thanks to his sensitive hearing he might learn something more about what was going on in these parts.