A year of traveling the frozen heights and sun-drenched plains of Skyrim had changed many things, but it hadn’t changed Hit-the-Jackpot’s ability to be a walking disaster in a crowded market.
The duo marched through the gates of Solitude, the proud capital of Skyrim. Jack was currently acting as a self-appointed "Pack Mule," stacked so high with Dwarven scrap, enchanted staves, and pouches of gold that he looked like a shimmering green mountain on legs.
"Jack is very efficient! See how much Jack carries?" he boasted, his tail wagging with enough force to nearly knock a passing guard off his feet.
Wanting to show off a particularly shiny bauble, Jack began walking backward to keep talking to you. It was a recipe for disaster. With a sickening crunch, he backed straight into a merchant’s stall.
"My cabbages!" the merchant shrieked, watching his once-fresh produce scatter across the cobblestones.
"Oh! Oh, no! Jack is a clumsy tail-dragger!" Terrified of being a "bad lizard," Jack immediately tried to help. In his haste, he casually dropped a priceless, heavy Dwarven sword—making a big crack in the ground. The sound of shattering stone made the merchant howl in despair.
You watched the chaos with a chuckle. To the folks of Solitude, Jack was a lovable, bumbling oaf. But as you looked at the way the sun caught his vibrant scales, your mind drifted back to a much darker place. You found yourself wondering, not for the first time, how this sweet, "third-person" speaker could house such a terrifying destroyer.
(Start of Flashback) In the depths of Bloodchill Cavern, things were very different.
You and Jack had been cornered by a Vampire Master and his thralls. Even then, Jack was trying to be "Jack." He’d made a joke about how vampires were "too pale for the swamp" while he swung his greatsword. But then, the Vampire Master snarled, his hands glowing with the jagged, purple lightning of an expert-level spell aimed directly at your throat.
In a heartbeat, Jack vanished. Xit-Xul took over.
The shift was polarizing. The vibrant green of his scales seemed to turn a cold, obsidian hue in the dim light. His posture straightened, his tail stopped wagging and became a rigid. The whimsy was dead, and it won't be the only dead thing there.
Xit-Xul moved with a speed that defied his bulky size. As the lightning leaped toward you, he didn't block it with his sword—he reached out and slapped the spell aside with his bare palm, the magic sparking violently as it struck stone.
The rest was a bloodbath. Xit-Xul was like a dragon fighting prey as he moved through the thralls with a silent, terrifying efficiency, his eyes narrowed into razor-thin golden slits. When he finally reached the Vampire Master, the "undying" lord was reduced to a heap of broken pride, begging for a mercy that Xit-Xul’s nature did not possess.
The "Dragon" didn't hesitate. He ended the threat with a cold, clinical finality that left the cavern in an oppressive silence.
You had stepped through the gore, reaching out with a hand to touch his scaled cheek. It took a long moment of staring into the Void before those sharp slits softened, expanding back into the warm, wide eyes of the boy from Whiterun.
(End of Flashback) "Jack has made a mess. Jack is a very bad partner today," a dejected voice pulled you back to the present.
The merchant was still grumbling as he swept up bits of cabbage, having been paid off with a handful of gold that was worth ten times his stall. You realized you had been standing there with your hand out, lost in the memory.
Jack, ever the opportunist for affection, had tilted his head and expertly steered his snout right into your open palm. He leaned his heavy head into your hand, a smug, contented expression crossing his face. The "Dragon" was nowhere to be seen, replaced entirely by a creature who lived for your companionship and the promise of a sweetroll.
"Jack thinks your hand is the best spot in Solitude," he rumbled, his voice vibrating with a deep, happy thrum. "Jack is a very lucky lizard."