The mountains hold may terrible challenges, after all, if the creatures didn’t get them, then the weather might, even I may need a cloak of some kind up there, Eric thought to himself. This mountain, the tallest in all of turmoil, would be no different and soon, they would be heading up that perilous mountain towards the Greybeards hold, along the way there would be trolls, goblins, and perhaps even a Giant. Eric remembered the stories his father had told him of the giants. “Fee, Fie, Foo, Fumb, ask not whence the thunder comes” he muttered to himself. So far, they had managed to preserve the past, or had they, perhaps the old man Herax had saved was not meant to live, but it was too late to consider that now, there were dark days ahead and dark deeds to do. The truth is that ever since Eric had had the chance to steal that scroll from the College of Winterhold, he had contained a plan within himself. He had realised in that incident that before him was a unique opportunity, a chance which he would never get again, but his window was closing quickly, that night, in Ivarstead, he would have to act. He would not get a better opportunity.