Open Community In-Game Roleplay

[Katastrophe]

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The setting is Skyrim, but there is no mythical Dragonborn of legend. There is simply you and rest of the world with dragons roaming the land. Helgen has been destroyed and you, for whatever reason, live in this land. What happens next is up to you.

This RP is designed to mix roleplaying with the actual game experience. By following some simple rules for creation, you will exist in your in-game world while the roleplay thread ties all of them together. Feel free to ask questions and discuss the rules in the OOC thread above as this will always need clarification.

 

[MushroomGenius]

Allysian Liore - Imperial​

The ride into Riften was a long one. With barely enough septims to pay the driver, I had nothing left to buy food or supplies. Thankfully, being an alchemist, I was able to pick a few safe-to-eat mushrooms along the roadside when we stopped to relieve ourselves. While they weren't especially tasty, they kept me nourished. Thankfully Skyrim has an abundance of streams with fresh water to drink from, all that snow's got to melt somewhere right?

The carriage driver, Illgeir, wasn't particularly friendly. Every question I asked was just met with one word responses. I had hoped the 18 hour ride would have been more entertaining, but sadly, the man's a carriage driver, not a bard. I tried to sleep, but the jostling of the cart over the stony road made that impossible. Instead, and unfortunately, these quiet times end up with me reflecting on just how I ended up in this carriage with nothing to my name except a few borrowed septims and a rusty dagger I found among the mushrooms.

A friend back home, Erlen, suggested I make my way to Riften. I had never traveled to Skyrim before, but anything to get out of Cyrodiil was definitely welcome. He said his sister Edda had a shop set up here, that maybe I could ask her for work and succor. Gods know I could use it.

Illgeir parked the carriage near the front gate and gave me a head signal to vacate. I hopped out, very ungracefully as my legs nearly gave out after the long ride. I saw the guards posted at the gate chuckle and mutter something quietly amongst themselves as I approached. The female guard stopped me in front of the secured entrance.

"Citizen, a tax has been imposed to enter the fine city of Riften. The cost will be 30 septims. Pay or leave," she demanded.

"I... I..." I was confused. A tax? Really? I literally had nothing left. I pleaded with the guard to allow me entrance and that I would gladly pay the tax once I've earned my money. I was hoping that with just this weathered tunic on my back, maybe she would pity me and allow me in. The guard laughed and, strangely, opened the gate without another word.

I wouldn't say Riften is a pretty city by any means. The autumn colors were nice, but sadly much of it was seen in piles lining the edges of buildings. I didn't see a friendly face anywhere. I heard some noises just up ahead, the same mix of a hundred different conversations that's typical of a marketplace. I figured that was as good a place as any to start looking for Edda.

I made my way to the marketplace, being careful to avoid a heavily armored man near the city entrance. I did my best to avoid eye contact, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me. Thankfully, he didn't move, but I felt his eyes continuing on as I walked passed him.

I passed by a fruit stand, the beautiful reds and greens of Skyrim's apples looked so appealing. I'd had nothing but mushrooms and water since yesterday. My stomach ached for the ripe, juicy fruit, but sadly, I could not afford it yet. Paying for food is a luxury right now, I won't like it, but I can live off of the vegetation outside of Riften for now.

Everyone seemed so busy in the marketplace, bartering for this, hocking that. A well-dressed man eyed me up and down and looked like he was going to ask me something but decided against it and turned around, his booth had "Falmer Extract" or something. I looked for anyone that could possibly help me find Edda, I exited the center market and watched a man hammer steel for a minute. He eyed me suspiciously as I just stood there watching him.

"Come to see Balimund work miracles with steel, eh?" he said.

"Oh, sorry, no... I was hoping you could help me," was my sheepish reply.

"Look, I don't give hand-outs, sorry. You don't look familiar, what brings you to Riften of all places?" Balimund inquired.

I approached him, "I'm actually looking for someone, she owns a shop here. Her name is Edda, her brother said that maybe she could give me succor."

"Edda? You sure about that? Old woman's been a bit of a loose wheel these last few years," Balimund shook his head mournfully.

"Oh. Is she still around?"

"That's her sitting down in the marketplace over there. Exact same spot her old linen cart used to be. Sad tale, she was a heck of a weaver. She got sick one summer, disappeared into the woods. Came back months later in kind of a daze. Thieves picked her cart clean, ransacked her home then burned it to the ground. I feel sorry for her, but hey, what can you do? I tried to help her, but she just goes on and on about corpses in the canal," Balimund started stretching another hide over his rack.

"Thank you Balimund, I'll try and talk to her," with that, Balimund wished me luck. I left his shop and made my way to the frail woman sitting on a woven mat.

I tried speaking to her, telling her about her brother Erlen, but she was despondent. She asked me for a few septims, I checked my coin purse, five septims was all I had. I placed three of them in her hand, they fell from her grasp onto her mat. She looked up at me and asked me again for some septims. I gave her my last two, hugged her and walked away.

Night was fast approaching and there was a chill in the air, with no money, I had to find a place to stay soon. I asked a guard doing his patrol. He suggested I go down to the water, there's a place they call "Beggar's Row" down there, not entirely safe, but safer than sleeping outside the wall. The guards patrol there once in a while, but advised me not to count on it.

My stomach growled louder as I made my way down the steps to the canal. The smell here was awful. Stagnant water, rotting fish, discarded food, human waste. I found the door to the area the guard mentioned and opened it. I thought the smell outside was bad. It was far worse in here, but at least there was some warmth. I made my way further into the tunnel, passing some other ne'er-do-wells soundly asleep. Thankfully, deep inside Beggar's Row I was alone for the time being.

There were several old cabbages rolling around, some half-empty bottles of mead, pieces of rotting meat of some kind. I couldn't tell, maybe it was horse? Cow? Who am I kidding, it was probably skeever. I left it, last thing I needed was to get sick and further dehydrated.

I peeled back the cabbage and ate the less wilted leaves on the inside. I found a decent potato in a corner, used my rusty dagger to peel it best I could. After a while, the smell either dissipated or I just got used to it. While not happy, at least my stomach was full. I looked around Beggar's Row a bit more, nothing of value that I could see, some old book, but I wasn't in the mood for reading. I stepped on something made of glass and crushed it beneath my foot. Skooma.

I've never tried the stuff, but I heard it could be worth a bit of money since it was considered contraband. I grabbed the two remaining bottles and tucked them into the waistband of my pants.

There was a hay mat here, it was damp, but the only suitable place to sleep. The drip drip of Beggar's Row kept me from ever getting into a deep sleep. Probably for the best. I heard footsteps.

I stayed on my mat, pretending to sleep. My guest stumbled into Beggar's row, kicking over a waste bucket, emptying its disgusting contents onto the floor. I heard him swear, he was obviously Argonian by his speech.

"Sssssskoooooooma... where are you? It's been a long day... now where did I leave you..."

I probably should have cleaned up the broken glass. The Argonian was right up next to me, but still hadn't looked down.

"NOOO! HOW?! But this is just one.. where are my other two... sssskooooma?" He wheeled around and whacked me with his tail, I got to my feet quickly, rusty dagger ready.

"You, where isss my sssskoooooma?!" He swiped at me with his claws, but was drunk enough that he missed me, badly. "I will cut off your head, Imperial bitch." The Argonian quickly brandished a pair of daggers and stumbled towards me. He let out a primal scream, paining my eardrum, but I knew I had to do something now. I had to get him before he got me. I lunged at him driving my dagger into the side of his neck, he screamed.

The Argonian fell to the ground desperately trying to stop the flow of blood pouring out of his neck. I dropped my dagger and backed into a corner, shocked. I've never hurt someone like this before. I've never seen so much blood. His muscled tail was spattering blood all over the walls, all over me. He thrashed about breaking a chair with that powerful tail. His body finally settled down, though disturbingly, his tail continued to quiver. I threw the hay pile over his body, located my dagger and sprinted out of Beggar's Row, a bloodied, frightened mess.

 

[Katastrophe]

It was late at night when Khal-zeen got off his carriage, having finally arrived in Riften. The ride from Morrowind had been dull and uneventful, which left the Argonian even more paranoid. This form of travel was typically something he tried to avoid... he always felt exposed. Perhaps he was just paranoid, but he always expected the carriage operator to be paid off from some family he swindled. Fortunately, this was on the case this time, and the carriage rolled silently up to the Riften stables, the man telling the Argonian to get out. Khal-zeen dismounted and started to approach the gate, two guards standing on either side.

"Halt," said the male guard, taking a step forward. "You're new here. You'll have to pay the visitor's tax of 74 septims."

"Visitor's tax?" the Argonian hissed. He knew he didn't have that kind of money, but the woods didn't seem that inviting. "What is this about a tax, just to enter the city?"

"Hey, keep your voice down...!" the guard said, looking around cautiously. "I'll unlock the gate if you just be quite!" The Argonian split his lips in a wicked smirk as the guard let him into the city. He hadn't walked twenty feet before a man in armor leaning against a pole told him to stop.

"Hey, you," he said, barely moving. Khal-zeen stopped and took a few steps closer. "If you know what's good for you, you'll watch yourself. Cross the Black-Briar's, and you'll be in trouble for not only her, but the Thieves Guild as well." Khal-zeen took that as a fair enough warning, but disregarded it. It was dark and a thief should never waste such opportunity. Without any lockpicks, however, pickings were slim. While Khal-zeen lurked in the shadows, testing each door, he was an Imperial woman covered in blood sprint from a doorway and out into the night. After she had passed, Khal-zeen decided to check things out.

Inside, one wouldn't expect much to have happened. There were a handful of people sleeping on mats strewn about the floor, scraps of food spilling out of buckets. The place was filth. It wasn't until Khal-zeen investigated the hay pile that he found the source of the blood - a dead swamp-brother, his neck pierced, the blood pooling across the floor. While a fellow Argonian, dead was dead, and Khal-zeen had little respect for them as he began rummaging through the dead lizard's pockets. That's when he felt a firm grip on his shoulder that spun him around, bringing him face-to-helmet with a Riften guard. Khal-zeen could see the guard's eye shift from breathing Argonian to bleeding Argonian and back again.

"Oh, you're in trouble now," he said, rising to his feet.

"No, no! I didn't kill him! It was that Im-UFF!" The butt of the guard's torch struck Khal-zeen's nose, spurting blood over his face, the corners of his vision beginning to fade as he fell on his back, his beady eyes struggling to focus on a stone in the ceiling. The guard's helmet filled his view.

"Welcome to Riften, murderer." The guard spit on Khal-zeen's face, and all went black.

 

[Hermaeus_Mora]

Gaius had been in Whiterun for quite some time now... A week? Two, perhaps? He wouldn't be able to tell anyone even for a free tankard of mead. Mead. It had been what Gaius had lived on for the past days. All of his money... Gone into the hands of the innkeep. He was still wearing his rags. I'll need to do something about that, if i want to look like the butcher i am... Gaius simled at his own thought. He had been a butcher of dead meat once, but on his way to this city he was in, he had seen that butchers of living meat were the only ones who could support themselves. This iron dagger isn't gonna cut it neither... he thought, smiling at his own pun. He asked someone the way to the blacksmith, which appeared to be near the gates. Of course, in his drunken state he had not even seen it. It was a miracle the guards let him inside, come to think of it.

A fair-haired nord was loudly talking to a woman, which seemed to be the blacksmith. Oh, great, he thought. I'll be spending the first days hammering the dints out of my armor... Gaius didn't think women were able to smith well. "I need more swords for the battle-born clan!" the man said. Gaius approached him, and he looked annoyed. "Battle-Born or Gray-Mane?" Gaius thought, and muttered "What?" "Battle-Born or Gray-mane!" He said, more annoyed than he was before. As Gaius wanted to be a butcher, he replied. "Um, Battle-Born i guess." Suddenly, the man became very nice. He left, saying that Gaius was his friend.

 

[K3V!N]

Nerlo Darellius - Imperial​

​

Nerlo pulled the rope tightly around the ragged wooden cog that jutted out of the dock. He watched as ‘the Swift Salmon’, the small frigate he had been working on for the past few months, came to rest neatly against the dock.

“Alright, an extra ten septims for anyone who wants to help unload this cargo,” a voice called out from the darkness. Nerlo glanced around at the rest of the sullen crew, he knew it was fairly late in the evening, perhaps morning already, and he hadn’t the energy or will-power to continue. He looked around the damp cave that the East Empire Trading Company called home in Windhelm, of all places why did they have to stop in Windhelm?

He looked up at the Swift Salmon one last time, the frigid waters they’d been travelling didn’t do the old frigate any favors, it’s masts stood bent and the hull was littered with pock marks from close calls and scrapes against the ice. Even in this condition Nerlo felt an intimate connection to the vessel, as he did with every ship he’d worked on.

As some of the crew trudged back onto the ship to begin unloading Nerlo dug through the pockets of his ragged trousers. Feeling the weight of his coin he reckoned he had about twenty septims, the rest of his worldly possessions came down to the rusted iron dagger he carried and the clothes on his back.
It was a disappointing end to what was supposed to be a grand and profitable journey. They had left the Imperial City nine months ago operating on a new long haul trade operation that the East Empire Trade Company had established. After eight years of sailing, this was Nerlo’s big break, the journey like the ones his Father used to take. At the end of the route which covered stops in Elsweyr, West Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, High Rock, Morrowind and Black Marsh, was the payment he’d been waiting for. Due to the extended time commitment and the nature of the job, each deckhand was to earn three-thousand septims for the journey.

Growing up in a cramped two-bedroom shack with his parents and sister, Nerlo yearned to own his own property somewhere in the city proper. With the payment from this journey, he would have enough to finally establish himself.

Unsure of what to do, he began to make his way off the dock with a few other crew members.

“Whoa there, where do you think you’re going?” The same voice from earlier called out. They all looked around at each other, blank looks across their faces. Nerlo turned to respond,

“I don’t know, what are we supposed to do?” A ragged looking man shuffled into the light of one of the torches on the wall, he woozily leaned against the rock, ale in hand.

“Huh… Well, you don’t gotta go home, but you can’t stay here,” he cackled at the group.

“Can we stay on the boat?” One of the other crew members asked.

“The job is over people, you didn’t make it. No staying on the boat, no staying in the office, if you aren’t gonna unload cargo then you’ve gotta get out.” The rest of the crew stopped and hung over the side of the boat, now listening intently to their fate. The group tensed up and closed in around the man.

“When are we going to get paid?” Another crew member shouted.

“Paid!” he paused for a moment grasping at the bottle of ale, “what does this look like to you, a charity?”
The crew stirred restlessly, quietly grumbling amongst themselves. Nerlo knew that they didn’t have to pay them, but he didn’t expect them to just kick them to the curb so easily.


“Did your cargo make it to your destination? How do you expect me to pay you for an unfinished job? It’s not even my contract; you’re in Windhelm ladies and gentleman.” He took another swig of his ale and unceremoniously began pacing back and forth.

“This ship is out of commission. We’re gonna be dry docking this bucket for at least a few months to get everything repaired. Cargo’s gotta be moved to another ship, ones coming in tomorrow, so if some of you are lucky you might be able to jump on board that one. And as I mentioned, I will pay ten septims to anyone who helps unload the cargo, that coin might get you a bed for the night up in Windhelm.” Nerlo remained unmoved, he knew that it was not a good sign that they were making an unscheduled stop in Windhelm, but didn’t expect the ship to be out of commission. In truth, they were already three weeks behind schedule, the ship wasn’t moving like it normally was and perhaps if they continued they’d end up being extremely late, or worse.

The man interjected one last time, waving his hand towards the door, “As for the rest of you, like I said, you can’t stay here.”

 

[MushroomGenius]

Allysian Liore - Imperial​

Bolting out of Beggar's Row, the blood still fresh on her clothing, Allysian sprinted up the steps connecting Riften's waterway to their city proper. She considered diving into the stagnant, foul smelling water, but thought better of it. As she made her way under the cover of darkness she noticed another Argonian take sight of her. Was this a friend of the one she had just killed? Fearful, she sprinted for the city gate.

Surprisingly, the area was unguarded. After closing the heavy city gate behind her, she heard a town guard whistling in the bushes, the obvious sounds of a man urinating accompanying his tune. Allysian made her way down the road stopping for a moment before passing the three guard towers that loomed over her path. She snuck up against the tower and waited for a moment, planning her next move. Dawn was quickly approaching, they'd spot her soon if she didn't get moving. She crawled among the bushes until she was out of sight of the towers.

The blood on her clothes was starting to dry, no doubt that they would be forever stained at this point. Figuring she may have to spend an extended amount of time outside the walls, Ally began foraging for alchemical supplies. Flowers, mushrooms, were all extremely useful. Ally had a particular knack for catching butterflies. She deftly caught several as well as luckily stumbling upon a valuable Luna Moth. She tucked all of the valuable ingredients carefully into her satchel when a noise startled her. A howl. Then another.

The howls were fairly loud, the wolves must be close. Ally crouched down and scanned her surroundings. Being an alchemist by trade, she was oftentimes out in the wild, defending herself against animal attacks was nothing new. Snarling erupted from the clearing just in front of her. There were two wolves chasing a deer. One wolf leapt onto the back of the deer as the deer swung around and smashed its hard antlers into the side of the other wolf. The impact jarred the leaping wolf off and the deer escaped into the forest with the wolf giving chase.

The injured wolf appeared dazed as Ally spied it from across the clearing. Wolf pelts can be useful, perhaps she could sell the pelt back in town she thought. Ally charged at the wolf dagger at the ready. The wolf, in one last desperate attempt for survival leapt at her catching the rusty dagger in its throat and slumped to the ground. Ally knelt next to the fallen animal and removed some of its hide. She left it on a nearby rock to dry, it would take up too much space in her satchel to take it with her now. She hoped that the smell wouldn't attract more predators.

Feeling a bit more adventurous and confident, Ally set off deeper into Riften's surrounding woodlands. She came across the strange corpse of a Nordic man. By the looks of him, he appeared to be a farmer and by the smell of him had been dead for days. Strange to see a farmer so far from town, but then again, no less strange than herself being out there, she thought. The farmer was badly torn up. It looked to be the work of animals rather than by a bandit's blade. She inspected the Farmer's pack and found some clothes that at a glance were petite enough to fit her and a dozen septims. There was nothing else of value he carried. Throwing modesty out the door, Ally took off her stained garments and rolled them up and shoved them into her satchel. The clothing she recovered from the Farmer fit well enough. It'll do, she thought, and set off again.

Eventually she made her way up to what appeared to be an abandoned mine. The carving above the entrance said "Lost Prospect Mine". The undisturbed cobwebs near the entrance made her feel a bit safer that she wouldn't find anybody or anything inside.

She closed the doors behind her and made her way into the mine. Thankfully the early morning sunlight shone brightly through the small windows carved into the doors. There was enough light that she could navigate the shallower areas of the mine without much trouble. She scavenged some mushrooms, picked up a pickaxe, and was fortunate enough to find an Iron Helm that fit her well enough. She thought she probably looked ridiculous wearing it, but at least it provided some measure of safety. Without a torch, and with the sunlight waning as the sun crested into the sky, she thought better of delving deeper into the mine. It was as she assumed anyway, abandoned. There was little of use in there aside from the helm, a single health potion, and an abundance of Blisterwort mushrooms. Sadly, not a single usable ore vein.

Around midday, Ally sat for a bit after gathering more ingredients from the local fauna. Figuring she would get dirty again, Allysian once again put on her old, stained clothes. Her dirty tunic was a red and brown crusty mess. The mud from her foraging covered up the blood nicely, she thought. As she sat, she noticed some deer just ahead of her, without a bow it was pointless to think of hunting the quick footed animals. The deer never noticed her, but took off all the same. Allysian heard the familiar clang of steel on steel.

"For the Stormcloaks!" she heard someone shout. The battle was over in seconds. Blaming a lapse in judgement, Ally headed off to see what the commotion was about. Four dead soldiers lay on the ground, three in all too familiar Imperial issue garb, the other in a blue-gray uniform. The survivors were two more of the blue-grays. They spotted her in the bushes and called out to her, she was obviously not hostile.

"You there, this is none of your concern citizen. Its best you move along," said the bigger of the two soldiers, the one holding the warhammer. Ally emerged from the bushes and walked over to the two soldiers. "What are you doing out here? It's not safe for a woman with no escort. Is everything okay?"

"Yes I am fine sirs, thank you. I'm a bit down on my luck, would it be too much to ask if I might take one of the Imperial's unused steel? I don't think he has any use for it," she inquired. The shield-bearing soldier knelt down and grabbed two steel daggers off the dead Imperials' belts.

"Here that should do. Better than that rusty iron at your hip eh?"

"Definitely, thank you sir," she remarked, embarrassed.

"You look a bit peaked, lass. Here take some of my bread and salted beef. You look like you could use a meal," the soldier fumbled around in his satchel and handed the food to Ally. "Here, take this too, wouldn't want you blind at night," the soldier then handed her a torch. "If you know of anybody wanting to join the rebellion, you ought steer them to Windhelm. We need all the decent blades we can find. Be safe now." The two soldiers picked up their fallen comrade and hauled him off.

Ally decided maybe it was time to start heading back to Riften. She figured to backtrack to where she had left the wolf pelt out to dry and pick it up, but couldn't remember exactly where it was. Obviously not in the right place, she ended up at the ruin of an old guard turret. She noticed a chest half buried in the brush and opened it up revealing a piece of armor, a red gemstone, and four lockpicks. Ally held the gemstone up to the sun, unable to tell whether it was a ruby or a garnet. She quickly put the lockpicks and gemstone into her satchel and inspected the armor. It was iron and heavy, but looked to be in decent enough shape. Thankfully, there was no blood on it. She slid her arms into the chest piece and pulled it over her head. Although it was heavy, it didn't feel so ungainly once it was on. Easier to wear it than carry it, she concluded. She felt a little better about the silly helmet now. Ally threw her old dirty tunic into the chest and slammed the lid shut. A light snowfall began as Ally tried to remember her way back to the wolf pelt.

As she was making her way up the road, she heard the clip-clopping of a horse coming up behind her. As she turned around, she saw what appeared to be an Orc hopping off the horse. Figuring he was friendly, she started walking over to him. The Orc charged at her weaponless and armorless, armed with just his fists and his attitude. The Orc slammed a fist into Ally's helmet, knocking the ill fitting hat sideways. With his opponent unable to see, the Orc continued raining blows down on Ally, his fists mostly just finding armor. Helmeted or not, the blows to her head were starting to take their toll. The inside of the helmet began cutting into Ally's skull, deeper and wider with every successive blow the Orc landed.

Finally Ally was able to roll out of his grasp and straighten out her helmet. She unsheathed her new steel dagger and stabbed at the ferocious green-skinned Orc. She sliced at him, cutting him in his belly and gashing his arm. The unarmored Orc was reeling.

Ally mounted another assault and plunged her dagger into the Orc's unprotected left breast. The Orc fell to the ground gasping, his death knell coming a few seconds later. Ally slumped to the ground next to her fallen opponent, her head still spinning from the melee. After resting for a few minutes, Ally got to her feet and made her way over to the Orc's horse. She inspected the saddlebags and found a few things of value, some Iron Ingots, a bit of leather, quite a bit of septims and some food and drink. She consumed the Orc's cache of food and ripped a few strips of cloth off of the Orc and bandaged her head the best she could. While the bleeding had stopped, her dizziness had not. Darkness would be upon her soon, she had to get back to town.

Allysian mounted the Orc's horse and followed the way-finding signs back to Riften. At least she had enough money in her pocket to rent a room this time.

 

[K3V!N]

Nerlo Darellius - Imperial

Sleep tugged at Nerlo’s eyes as he staggered through the dark stone corridors of Windhelm. He had only been in the city for two minutes and already several city guards had made threatening comments about his imperial lineage. How could they tell? He thought to himself as he pondered how difficult is was going to be to fit in here in the home of the Stormcloak rebellion.

Finally, the inn appeared before him. Candlehearth Hall, a large two story inn sat flickering in the night. Two large cauldrons of flame stood out front exposing the slate stone exterior and snow covered roof. Across the way Nerlo noticed the impressive main gate to Windhelm which stood at least thirty feet in height. Against the iron façade of the doors three silhouettes darkly glimmered.

Figuring them to be more city guards, Nerlo made his way towards the doors of the inn. Just then, he noticed something peculiar. The conversation seemed to be an aggressive one and he leaned an ear forward to hear it.

“Maybe we’ll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are.” Nerlo squinted at the silhouettes revealing a Dunmer woman flanked by two Nords. Sensing trouble he started again for the inn, the last thing he wanted was to get involved in affairs that weren’t his own on his first night in the city; after all he preferred the inn to a jail cell. The key to survival he figured, was keeping a low profile. Before he could go any further, the dark elf woman called out to him,

“Do you hate the Dark Elves too? Are you here to bully us and tell us to leave?” Nerlo took a step back, why is this woman talking to me? He thought.

“No, I don’t hate your people.” He called back.

“You’ve come to the wrong city, then. Windhelm’s a haven of prejudice and narrow thinking unworthy of one such as you.”

Nerlo paused for a moment, traversing the icy steps of the inn. He squinted back at the woman to get a better look.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said as her figure faded into the darkness, “Have a nice evening.”
As he opened the door to the inn he thought about the awkwardness of what had just happened. It was nearly two in the morning and the city seemed as active as it must have been in the daylight. It did seem rather strange, why would that woman be out at this time of night? Maybe she was up to something.

The warmth of the inn immediately comforted his tired body as he steadied himself in the foyer. A small bar stood in the corner of the room tended to by a fair haired middle-aged woman who was lazily polishing a tankard. The sound of fire crackling echoed off the walls and the spicy smell of warm wormwood hung in the air.

“Got some fine cheese and bread if you’re hungry,” the woman said.

“That would be lovely,” Nerlo said as he took a seat, “what have you got?” The woman knelt down to peer at the shelves that hung under the bar.

“Well, we’ve got some fine goat cheese and a few loaves of crusty bread. How about I throw in a bottle of ale and we call it even at three gold?”

“I was interested in a room for the night as well,” he said as the woman slid the plate of warm cheese and bread in front of him. He attacked the bread with reckless abandon, shoving a large hunk into his mouth, he frenetically chewed on the glorious offering. He hadn’t eaten in nearly two days and he pondered if he’d ever tasted bread so good.

“You with that boat crew as well?” She asked, filling the freshly polished tankard with the amber ale.

“Yep,” he said, lips smacking as he chipped off a piece of cheese.
“Got a bunch of you here tonight. I can give you a room for ten gold if you want to stay.” Nerlo plopped the septims on the bar and slid them over.

“Great, it’s yours for the day.” The woman pulled another tankard from the bar and continued to polish.

“Oh and one other thing, don’t be getting fresh with Susanna while you’re here.” She said, her weathered face raising an accusatory eyebrow. Nerlo took an extended swig from the tankard, the sour liquid burned as it went down his throat.

“Who’s Susanna?”

“She’s the barmaid, you might see her around. Lots of travelers come in here and try to get handsy, just remember that I warned you.” Nerlo nodded and continued his feast, pushing out a slight belch.

“Oh, and one other word of advice, since you are new in town. I don’t know how long you’re planning on staying here, but keep an eye on those dark skins. Can’t be trusted that group. If you’re in the grey-quarter, keep one hand on your gold and the other on your dagger.”

“What’s the grey-quarter?” Nerlo asked hesitantly as he took another swig of ale.

“It’s that area over there where they keep all those dark elves.” She said gesturing casually behind him. “Dunmer as they like to be called. Imperial loyalists if you ask me! Nobody wants them here yet they remain, like a disease just to spite us.” Nerlo thought about delving deeper into the topic, but the hour and the ale had eaten away his patience.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, finishing what was left of his ale and slamming the tankard on the bar in typical Nord fashion. “Can you show me to my room?”

“Sure, it’s just that one there, first door on the left.” The woman said while leaning over the bar and pointing down the hallway.

“Let me know if you need anything else, the names Elda.” She said as he made his way down the hallway and into the cramped single-bed room. He took a deep sigh as he closed the door behind him. It was clear by the sound of the Bard’s muffled singing that a party was raging upstairs. He considered grabbing a bottle of wine and heading up, but with his stomach full and his head a little light he plopped heavily onto the bed and quickly dozed off to sleep.

 

[TheCropp]

Ula Katariah Septim. Nord.

Winterhold. I heard many stories and tales about this village. Once the capital of Skyrim, it was a powerful and important city until the great collapse in 4E 122. Nobody really knows why the collapse happened, but rumors tell that it has something to do with the College, which was left unharmed on a freestanding spire of rock over the sea. There are speculations that it happened because of the eruption of the Red Mountain in Vvardenfell. Since then, it is a haven for mages - far from the trade routes and the noise of the cities, it is perfect for experimenting with magic and dealing with other mysteries...

It was a cold and stormy evening when my carriage arrived at Winterhold. I was unhappy - going to a city far in the north of Skyrim and don't taking warm clothes was a stupid idea. If not the man, who's carriage this was, I would have froze to death. Thanks Talos that Bjorlam (that's the name of the man) gave me those simple, but warm enough clothes.
When I arrived in Winterhold, my first thought was to go to the inn, warm up and see what's happening there, maybe even listen to a few rumors or Bard songs. Slowly I made my way through the thick layer of snow that was on the way to the inn. My shoes drenched in water when I reached the door of the inn - The Frozen Hearth. I went through the door into the warm, pleasant atmosphere. The first thing I heard was the first line of a famous song in Skyrim, Ragnar the Red:

"There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead!"​

I barely liked this song, but I didn't want to waste my money for making a request, so I rented a room from the friendly innkeeper. Because I was too exhausted, I bought a bottle of warm mead and went to my room to dry my shoes. It wasn't neither a bad nor a good room, but it was warm. After so many hours in the cold of Skyrim, I enjoyed the moment where I didn't feel the pain of freezing foot toes. I jumped onto the bed, took off the shoes and fell asleep within moments.

I see a massive orb, probably some kind of artifact, which is floating a few feet above the ground. Is this some kind of magic...?! I don't recognize the surroundings, but it seems to be a big hall, like if this would be in a cathedral. And there's a man! I can hardly understand him, but I can hear him telling something...​

​

" ... ... have learned... object... Eye... ... powerful... ... world ... not ... for ... "​

With the last word I woke up in the room, hearing another song of the bard. It was just a dream...

 

[MushroomGenius]

Allysian Liore - Imperial​

​

Wounded and exhausted after a day spent outside the wall, Ally hopped off her borrowed horse as she arrived at the Riften gates. She let go of the reins as she removed her satchel from the horse's saddle. Once her bag was free, the horse charged off. Cursing her poor judgement, she entered the main gate as the guards snickered at her.​

​

​

Allysian immediately headed to the local inn, The Bee and Barb. It was still fairly early, around 6pm, and the dinner crowd hadn't gathered yet. Ally opened the door to enter the establishment and was immediately greeted by two pairs of beady eyes. Argonians. What is it with me and Argonians? Ally considered backing out and rethinkng her choice of accommodations for the evening, but the two lizards, while not exactly welcoming, didn't give any indication of any ill will towards her. She shut the door and headed for the bar.​

​

​

The female Argonian was dutifully wiping the bar down, muttering something about a debt she owed that she had no intention of paying. It was at least a minute or so before the barkeep even bothered to look up at her. "What do you want?" was the barkeep's terse reply.​

​

"I was looking to rent a room for the night," Ally answered, respectfully.​

​

"Going rate here is 10 ssseptims. No discountsss. Paid in advance," the reptilian held out a scaly hand.​

​

Ally dug around in her satchel and handed 10 septims to the barkeep.​

​

"Name'sss Keerava, that is Talen-Jei," said the barkeep, pointing at the other Argonian sweeping the floor. "He's a former Shadowscale, cause any problems in here and you'll deal with him."​

​

Ally glanced over at the humble looking Argonian sweeping the floor. He didn't look like much, he looked like a nice guy actually, she thought. Maybe she's just trying to scare me.​

​

"Your room is upstairs, go ahead and pick one that doesn't already have someone else's stuff in it. The doors have no locks, so no funny business," she warned Ally. "Dinner starts in about an hour."​

​

Ally thought about going to her room to settle in, but the growl in her stomach told her otherwise. She'd better eat while she could. A hot meal would be difficult to pass up. Ally seated herself at one of the tables and started rummaging through her satchel, taking inventory of her possessions. Damn, I wish I picked up that wolf pelt, she thought. Within minutes a steady stream of patrons started entering the inn, taking seats at the bar and at the other tables adjacent to hers. She recognized a few people from the marketplace, but none paid her any attention.​

​

​

"Well hey there, survived your first day in Riften eh?" said the man behind her.​

​

Ally turned around and recognized Balimund, the Riften blacksmith. "Yeah, I guess I did!"​

​

"This seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the empty seat.​

​

"No, please sit, I'd enjoy some company."​

​

​

The two sat and ate, chatting and playfully flirting as the bottles of wine emptied. It was nice to be in the company of a decent man again, she thought, her mind drifting away to thoughts of her deceased husband. Balimund introduced Ally to Madesi, yet another Argonian, who owned a jewelry business. Ally asked if Madesi could identify and appraise the red jewel she found, retrieving it from her pack. He said it was a simple garnet, not too valuable, but offered her sixty septims for it; Ally gladly traded. Madesi chatted with Balimund for a bit, letting him know that there was a murder down in Beggar's Row. Some skooma-addict was found dead, looks like they caught the killer though, another Argonian. Ally kept her mouth shut as they talked about the incident.​

​

Once they were alone again, Balimund offered to train Ally in smithing in exchange for helping him gather some fire salts. As an alchemist, Ally was well aware of the rarity of such an ingredient, but agreed nonetheless to keep an eye out. Ally told Balimund about her adventures that day, about the wolf, the rotting farmer, the Orc, and the soldiers. He took a genuine interest in what she was saying, leaning in and giving her his undivided attention. It was fast approaching midnight and Ally stood and bid farewell to her company for the evening. Balimund told her to stop by his forge early in the morning before heading out. She agreed and headed upstairs to bed where she quickly dozed off with a small smile upon her face, the effects of too much excitement and too much wine.​

​

Ally gathered up her things, the Inn was as quiet as a tomb aside from the cacophony of snoring and wheezing from the other guests. Ally tiptoed her way down the stairs and was about to leave when a voice startled her.​

​

​

"Excussse me traveler, might I ask a favor?" the voice in the darkness asked her. He stepped out into the light, it was Talen-Jei. Talen-Jei apologized for Keerava's brusqueness and asked Ally if she would help him locate some rare gemstones for a ring he was planning to give Keerava. Ally accepted the task for an agreed-upon fee as well as the promise of hospitable accommodations and hot meals during future visits. Talen-Jei was more than happy to oblige and even handed Allysian a day's supply of food.​

​

Allysian stepped out of the Bee and Barb and remembered to head over to Balimund's shop, The Scorched Hammer. It was really early, probably a little after 4am, but Balimund was out there, tending to his forge by candlelight. He looked exhausted, sweaty, seemed like Balimund had been working all night, the smell of alcohol escaping his pores.​

​

​

"Good morning Balimund, you look rested," Ally teased.​

​

"Yeah, these old bones are going to regret it. You're up earlier than I thought, but just in time I guess. I made you something," Balimund said, handing over some pieces of leather armor. "It's not the most protective stuff out there, but it's light-weight, durable, and a lot more forgiving than that Iron you're carrying around. Hand me your Iron, I can melt it down and reforge it into something. Consider it an even trade. Let's see if it fits."​

​

​

Ally stepped out of the moonlight for a bit more modesty, and removed her armor. Balimund pretended to examine his forge, but stealthily caught eyefuls of Ally's shapely silhouette. Ally squeezed into the leather armor, adjusting her camisole beneath. "It fits perfectly, Balimund," she remarked. She slid her feet into the supple, expertly-crafted boots and pulled her hands through a pair of bracers. "This truly is amazing work, you could make a living doing this!" Ally jested.​

​

"Yeah well, if it keeps you safe, that's what counts. Do me a favor, don't buy that used crap from Grelka. We're still not sure where she gets it. Better to come to me and get everything custom fitted. Anyway, this is for you too," Balimund outstretched his hand, giving Ally a handful of Dragon's Tongue flowers. Ally smiled, gave Balimund a hug and carefully placed the flowers into her satchel, promised him she would return, and headed out of Riften.​

​

Just outside the north gate, Ally was stopped by one of the guards. He warned her not to go too far north, some bandits have made camp at old Fort Greenwall, that some Khajiit traders had gone missing recently. Ally thanked the guard for the advice and headed out. Naturally, her curiousity guided her north.​

​

​

After about a half hour of walking, Ally could see the darkened walls of Fort Greenwall up ahead of her. Thankfully, the sun wasn't out yet and she could sneak about unseen. She crept as close as she dared to the occupied fort. She didn't immediately see anyone from the outside and was about to creep closer when she heard a cough. Ally froze in her tracks and noticed a bandit stationed atop the wall. Ally decided she wasn't all that curious about the fort after all and left.​

​

She spent most of the morning continuing to gather alchemic supplies. She definitely needed to find an Alchemy Shop and see if they had some inexpensive vials she could buy and a table, mortar, and pestle for her to use. Thankfully, alchemists are pretty generous to those in the trade, at least that was her experience in Cyrodiil.​

​

Ally spotted some honeybees and watched them gather nectar and fly back to their hive. She thought some fresh honey would be a nice thank you gift for Balimund, and started to follow the bees.​

​

Without warning, Allysian was run into at full force. She flew a few feet and tumbled to the ground, a tree trunk stopping her momentum. Surprised, she drew her dagger and face her assailant.​

​

"Don't you know this is Black-Toe territory, girl?" grunted the bandit. The bandit retrieved his axe from his belt and brandished it, menacingly. "We own this area as well as Fort Greenwall. Hey that's some fancy armor you got there. Can I see what's under it?"​

​

​

The bandit charged at Ally again, but she nimbly stepped aside averting his attempt and drove her dagger into his back. The bandit's fur armor didn't offer much protection as the dagger was buried hilt deep into his ribcage. The bandit fell to the forest floor gasping for air. Ally deftly pounced on him and cut his throat, ending the attacker's life. Ally quickly left the scene, not bothering to check the dead man's pockets, fearful his comrades may start looking for him.​

​

When she was far enough away, Ally sat down, looked at the blood now caked on her bare hands. Is this what life in Skyrim was going to be like? Am I truly better off having left Cyrodiil? She removed the flowers that Balimund had given her, closed her eyes and put them to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent. She felt her heart rate slow down.​

​

Centered and rested, Ally got back to her feet and just started walking, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of her environment. She found a brook and washed her hands and her blade. In the quietness of the forest, she heard the all too familiar sound of hammer on steel and started to head towards it, concealing herself in bushes and behind rocks until she knew it was safe. It was another village, a booming voice greeted her along the cobblestone path.​

​

"Welcome to Shor's Stone!"​

​

 

[TheCropp]

Color guide: Name, thoughts, happenings, NPCs talk, Ula talks, dreams.

Ula Katariah Septim. Nord.

...The dream was a weird one. If it was a dream. Actually, I'm not entirely sure. This might have been a vision or something. What should I do? I don't understand it...
If this truly was a vision, magic was involved in it. Maybe heading to the College and looking for a few answers or explanations would be a good idea...

It was 11:24, when I woke up on the 18th of the Last Seed. My toe didn't hurt anymore and I felt the warm, coming from the fireplace in the middle of the inn. My mind was clear, but only the weird dream I had last night disrupted my thoughts. I never saw something like this before. The orb had definitely something to do with magic.
Without any waste of time I got out of the bed, took the dried boots and went out of my room to get some food. The innkeeper had freshly baked potatoes and bread, so I bought both of them for 12 septims. The potatoes were delicious and the bread was very fresh, so I enjoyed my meal. I did want to get some drink, but my pocket said "no!". I had only 8 gold pieces left...
I went out of the inn into the cold. The storm has subsided and I saw how beautiful the village was. The old houses with thatch reminded me a bit of Jhara's farm. I started to feel sorrow, when I saw the houses, which were completely destroyed. Only floors and walls left, standing behind the main street of Winterhold. Probably the remains from the Great Collapse. I also saw a big gate, which led to the College. That was my goal. Slowly, I went to the gate, but an altmer woman, Feralda, stopped me:

"Cross the bridge at your own peril! The way is dangerous and the gate won't open. You shall not gain entry." - She said with a suspicious glance.

"Why are you out here?" - I asked her.

"I am here to assist those seeking wisdom of the College. In the process, my presence may determine those who seek harm. More important, why are you here? What do you expect to find within?" - Feralda replied.

"I desire to bend the will of those around me." - I explained to her.

"Yes, the school of Illusion can be quite influential. Kings have risen to power because of it, and empires have been razed with it. It would seem that the college has what you seek. The question now is, what can you offer the College? Not just anyone is allowed inside. If you wish to enter, you need to show some degree of skill in magic. A small test if you will?" - she asked me.

"I'll take your test, then" - I replied.

"Summoning a flame atronach would be enough to show your magic skill." - Feralda said.

"Oh, I don't know that spell." - I told her, with fear that I will not gain entrance to the College.

"I can sell it to you for 30 septims." - she offered.

I didn't have enough gold to pay her for the spell. It was a horrible moment. With only 8 septims in my pouch I couldn't even afford to pay for one more day at the inn. It was vital to get a roof over my head, so I went back to the inn. I was looking for any gold that I could take and later return. Thanks Talos, there were 40 gold pieces in the chest in my room. I waited until nobody was looking at me and put the money into my pocket. With remorse I went back to Feralda and paid her the 30 septims to learn the spell. It took quite a while until I understood how the spell works.

"I'm anxious to see you cast it" - she said and stepped aside.

I remembered all the steps I needed to do to summon an atronach, but I tried without any results. After the third try my vision blurred and I felt weak. I simply couldn't do it!
I had no choice than to return to the inn and get some kind of job. The gold was really necessary and I needed to get some as soon as possible. Paying for the room and food wasn't cheap, so I asked the innkeeper if he knew about some job offer here in Winterhold. He gave me a bounty letter of a bandit group located in a Fort far East from here. I knew that I couldn't just run into the fort and slay all the bandits - I was too weak. I had only one more option left - going to the Jarl and directly asking him about some kind of job.
After I went out of the inn, I saw the Jarl's longhouse just on the other side of the road. I hurried and entered the building. Malur Seloth - a dunmer - asked me for a favor straight away. He needed me to steal a staff from the hooded mage in the inn - Nelecar. I knew that I would feel only more remorse after doing that, but getting money was my priority. I headed back to the inn.
The mage was drinking mead or ale, couldn't recognize, at the bar, so I sneaked into his room and saw the staff behind the counter. Very slowly, I approached it and took it. I had to hide it under my clothes. The staff was a long one, so I didn't expect to get out of there easily, but my slow walk didn't attract any attention. When I got out the inn, I ran to the longhouse and met with Malur. His reward wasn't gold. He actually gave me a lesson about speeches, which was really interesting and helpful.
Since I had to get a job, I went to the Jarl. I bent down and showed the respect a leader deserves.

"What's your business here in Winterhold?" - he asked.

"I'm here for the college." - I replied.

"Should have known." - he said. I felt that I'm losing his attention.

"Actually, I'm looking for work. Do you have any?" - I asked the man.

"You know, Winterhold has lost much of its history, and with it, much of its power. I aim to change that. I heard rumors about the resting place of the Helm of Winterhold, the very same helm Jarl Hanse wore in the First Era. Hanse was in line to be the High King of Skyrim, you know. Getting that helm might get the ear of the other holds and give me some authority." - the Jarl explained. - "I'll have some gold waiting for you, if you would return the helm to me."

"I'll do my best. Can you tell me more about the place I'm heading?" - I asked.

"It seems to be in Hella's Folly. You should hurry up." - he answered.

I left the longhouse and started asking the guards about this place. About half an hour later I already knew it's exact position - one guard marked it on my map. It was far to the North-West of Winterhold and to the North-East of Dawnstar. I did not want to get there by night, so I went back to the inn to get some food and rest. Maybe I'll read some book if the innkeeper has any.
With only 18 septims in my pocket I rented the room for another day and bought baked potatoes for a total of 16 gold. I had to face the fact - if I don't recover the helmet, it might end badly. I was totally broke. After my dinner I was looking for any books in the inn, and Nelecar offered me to read any of the ones he had. I chose a book called "Darkest Darkness", because the name sounded interesting. I borrowed it from him and went back to my room.
The book, uhm, was terrible. And confusing. I didn't knew that the atronachs were the servants of lesser Daedra. If I would have known, I'd have never accepted Feralda's test. But it is too late. If I won't summon that "thing", then I'm not welcome in the College.
I was tired after the tries of the Conjuration test, so I went to bed and fell asleep within minutes...

 

[Tyrone]

Ragath had arrived in Solitude close to midnight. He looked up at the city, never seeing something so big before. He leaped off the carriage, walking towards the stronghold. "You, you've got some muscles. The Legion could use big orcs like you" A man dressed in red garb and a wierd, spiked helmet would turn to the orc as he approached the gate to the city, "Well, go on in, you're just in time to meet Roggvir." The orc paused for a bit, remembering tales of his kin about the warrior's guild, this 'Legion' the man had called it, and walked into the doors of the city. Perhaps this was the purpose he was seeking.

As the orc walked in, he turned to his right to see a man at an execution block. A nord dressed in the same garb as the man outside would be shouting to a crowd, pointing towards the prisoner to his left. after the man was done talking, the prisoner made a little speech Ragath could not hear before being sent to the chopping block, saying his last breath before an axe come down on his head. Such executions Ragath never understood, in orc culture they would simply kill the man on the spot for the crimes he commited. The crowd soon dispersed and the orc was pointed in the direction of Castle Dour, walking into it believing it a warrior's guild headquarters.

Immediately when stepping in, a small, gray-haired man would notion for him to come over, an angry look on his face. "Are my men now giving free reign to anyone in Solitude?" He would say to the orc, staring him down. Ragath would reply to the man with a questioning look on his face, "I am here to join this warrior's guild, this legion you outlanders call it. I am questioning how someone so small as you can be in charge of it." The small man would grow even angrier at this statement, cursing at the orc before being calmed by a nordic woman in plate gear. "He's an orc, general, they don't learn too much about the outside world, he probably didn't mean to insult you" she would say to the small man, who stepped back and regained his composure. "If you wish to join us, speak to Legate Rikke over there. Excuse me while I go look at battle-plans" The man would say to Ragath, before turning and walking away.

The woman would approach the orc, "You sure you want to join the Legion?" she would say to him, with a confused look on her face. "I suppose we can use everyone we can get, you need to take Fort Hraggstad alone, I have a gut feeling about you." The orc would question her with a serious look on his face, "I'm going alone?" he would say. The woman would pause for a bit, and then hand him a map, "Yes, you're going alone. Go and prove yourself worthy to the Legion." Ragath would smile now, finally a warrior's challenge fit for an orc...

 

[TheCropp]

Color guide: Name, thoughts, happenings, NPCs talk, Ula talks, dreams.

Ula Katariah Septim. Nord.

The place I'm heading is called Hella's Folly. A wrecked ship far North-West of Winterhold. The journey to there will be long and hard. Powerful winds and dangerous predators will definitely make the way hard. Let's hope for the best...

I got up at 5:24 on the 19th of Last Seed. My first thought was to get to the wreck as soon as possible, so I put the shoes on and went out of the inn. My gold was low, so I had to pass on breakfast. Luckily, there was a bush of snow berries directly in front of The Frozen Hearth. The bush of berries had enough berries on it, so my hunger was gone.
I found a small road leading over the mountain behind the Jarl's longhouse. I went that way and was astonished by the view that greeted me when I reached the top. A massive area with only snow, ice and water. I saw a few animals far in the western side of this place, so I went to the North. The cliff was at least a hundred yards high, so I had to find an alternate way to get down there. After about 15 minutes of searching I found a slope to get down to the sea. I went that way and when I reached the bottom a wolf attacked me from the side. Although I was attacked by surprise, I was quick enough to pull out my rusty dagger and slash the side of the wolf. He howled in pain, but didn't leave me alone. His next attack was too fast. The jaw of the predator handcuffed my left arm and I felt the terrible pain. My next slash with the dagger was deadly for him, since I pierced his skull with my blade. The jaw released my arm and the wolf fell onto the ground. My arm was bleeding, so I cut a piece of cloth out of my clothes and bind it around the wound. The blood stopped flowing and I was happy that I won't attract more predators.
I remembered how Jhara taught me how to skin an animal. Although I was doing that with cow hide, the wolf's pelt seemed to go off as easy as the cow hide. An hour later I had the wolf pelt on my back, keeping me warm in the cold of Skyrim.
A few tiring hours later, when I was walking by the coast to the West, I was attacked by a horker. He was a big, angry piece of meat, impossible to kill with a rusty dagger I had. Since I didn't have a bow or crossbow, I had to use a magic spell, which I have learned when I was only twelve years old. I found a book with a description of it and after a few months of constant practice I was able to control the element of fire. I sheathed my dagger and concentrated to use the spell. After a few seconds, flames blasted out of my hands and set the horker on fire. It was a victory. Without even looking at the "cooked" horker, I continued walking to the West.
I finally was near the place that was marked in my map. I quietly began to sneak, until I reached the top of the small hill. Someone was there! At the fireplace! I hoped that it wasn't a bandit, but for security reasons I pulled out my dagger and left the fire burning in my left hand. Since I'm not the best in sneaking, I was detected when I had more than ten yards left to the person. I heard a quiet voice:

"Planning to ssset sssomething on fire? - the Argonian said, but it seemed that he whispered.

It was a relief for me. I approached him and asked him about his name:

"Namesss Deekusss... Why do you came here?"

"The Jarl of Winterhold sent me to retrieve the Helmet, which once belonged to Hanse, a Jarl of Winterhold, long ago" - I said - " do you know anything about it?"

"You came here for my helmet? My treasssure? You must die! It isss my treasssure!" - Deekus shouted and pulled his dagger out.

I couldn't do anything else, than ready my spell and the dagger to defend myself. After a few strong swings Deekus was out of breath and I had my first chance to strike him without being counterattacked. I did so and after a few hits the argonian was down on his knees. I slashed his back and he fell dead, but just to make sure, I cut his throat. This wasn't something I am proud of doing, but it was necessary. It was defense. Deekus had 26 septims and an amethyst on himself, so I took those.
I went to the chest, activated the two bear traps which were near it with a few stones and tried to open, but without success. It was locked. I would have picked the lock, but with no lockpicks in my satchel I was unable to do so. A trip to Winterhold would have taken long, so I've decided to check my map. Dawnstar! The harbor was only an hour and a bit away from where I was at the moment. I've put out the fire so that this place doesn't look different from the landscape and went along the beach to the West.
It took me over two hours to get to Dawnstar, because the snow storm decreased my sight drastically. Nothing important happened, except that I saw a few more horkers swimming in the sea, between the frozen blocks of ice. Once in Dawnstar I was looking for a merchant, preferably a general goods trader, but without success. I was looking every corner of the city, with no results. When I was thinking, that I don't have any other choice than to stay in the inn until the sun comes out, I finally saw a sign, that I would be able to get a lockpick! It was a Khajit, which, I assumed, was a merchant of a caravan. I was happy, when I realized it was the case and saw the tents of them.
Ahkari, the merchant and the leader of the caravan had 3 lockpicks for sale for which I paid 18 septims. I started my travel back to the wreck. After I left Dawnstar, I went past some cave with an iron door and a skull on it. Looked weird, if you ask me, because it simply doesn't fit into the view. Ignoring the thing I just saw I continued. About an half hour later the storm settled and I could see the wreck from afar, but it took me over half an hour to get there.
Once there, I went straight to the chest and opened it with my second lockpick. The chest contained the helmet I was looking for. It looked just like a steel horned helmet, but it had the emblem of Winterhold on the front, so I assumed, that it was "the" helmet. I also found 5 lockpicks and 107 gold, which may come in handy. I started to look around the camp for more items I could take and found a Dibella statue, which might be worth something, a torch, two amethysts, one emerald and two sapphires. There was also a soul gem fragment of which I never heard of. I dived a bit around the ship and found 2 clams and 4 nordic barnacles. I finally had to travel back after I collected all the things which might have been worth something. It was already 22:42 when I left the camp and headed back to the East.

​

I finally have money! These jewels will sell for good gold and the statue may be worth something too. I need to get to Winterhold as soon as possible, because my stomach was already growling. Let's hope that nothing attacks me during the travel back.​

​

After around one hour of walk I saw a statue of... Talos. My ancestor's, Tiber Septim's statue, was just in front of me, on an iceberg. I knelt down and began to pray how Jhara taught me. Talos was the greatest man in history of Tamriel, and the Aldmeri Dominion wants to forbid praying to him!?​

​

"I will stand against the elves, Talos. I promise you, all of them will scream your name when I'll stick my blade into the chests of the damn elves... I promise you that..." - I whispered and tears appeared in my eyes.​

​

It took me a while to focus and continue my way back. I felt terrible. My ancestor's remembrance was banned in this land, and I couldn't do anything about it, yet...​

I saw the first houses with roofs out of straw when the sun began to rise. It was already a new day, the 20th of Last Seed.​

The only thing that kept me quite happy was the thought, that I finally can eat as much as it needs to fill my stomach. I also had an idea of purchasing a new weapon, because the rusty dagger I have now was about to give up soon. When I went past the Jarl's longhouse I saw the the sun in the East, bringing us a new day to our life.​

The inn was empty, only the innkeeper was standing behind the bar and waiting for the few early customers which come here every morning. I went to him and purchased Nord mead, cooked beef and bread for a total of 36 septims. After I finished my "breakfast" I went straight to bed...​

 

[Psiberzerker]

{Deadfall: Wherever.}

Paper is expensive! Got to be some way to make money, but it's pretty quiet now. Sure is dark, not even the Stars out, so I might as well see what's going on. Yeah, this looks like a good spot, nice and dark, just guards wandering around. Nothing to do with them, I could try to killing one, and get lucky enough to be hauled off to prison before they killed me. Torchlight Tag, try to stay behind them, out of the light, until another one comes. Back into the shadows, nobody looking, try the door, locked. No picks, but never seen one, so what would I do with it?

I could stay out all night like this...

 

[MushroomGenius]

Allysian Liore - Imperial​

Hmm, Shor's Stone, I remember hearing this town mentioned while I was in the marketplace, Ally thought to herself, the town looks harmless enough, the people here look like miners. The local blacksmith beckoned Ally over to him. She obliged.

"Greetings traveler, you looking to make some quick coin?" the muscled blacksmith asked.

"I suppose, depends on the job," Ally replied.

"Well it's not much, but we got a spider problem in our mine. Ebony production's pretty much stopped since our workers refuse to go down there. Can't blame em, damn frostbite spiders already took care of Bijnar and Fjoma. We can't even give them a proper burial, nobody wants to go recover the bodies," the old smith sighed.

"What about the guards?"

"The Guards?! HA! That's a laugh. They said mine production isn't their problem, if the town folds they'll just get reassigned. FEH! If the spiders come outta the mine, then yeah, they're required to take care of em. But their *ahem* duty ends at the mine entrance. Filthy good-for-nothings. I even went over to Riften, only guy I could find willing to do it was some half-drunk Mage at the Inn. He wanted 500 septims for his trouble, in advance! Little town like this can't afford his rate. You able to help us out?"

"Let me think about it, I'll let you know after I walk around town a bit. Your name was?"

"Oh Filnjar, sorry. But alright, guess I won't hold my breath. Price of imported ebony ore is gonna kill me."

Regretfully, Ally took her leave of the blacksmith and wandered about town. She saw the miners seated around a fire obviously not working despite the sun telling her it's midday. As she approached, one of the miners stood up and dashed over to her.

"Hey there, sweetheart. You look lost, anything Odfel's famous pickaxe can help you with? You know my pickaxe has dug more holes than.... well I'll just let you use your own imagination," the man said, most cavalierly. The seated Orc miner groaned. Odfel approached Ally and put an arm over her shoulders.

"Sorry, no. I heard there's some problem with spiders in the mine?" asked Ally as she stepped out from under Odfel's advance.

The seated Orc remained unturned but answered, "Yeah, some spiders decided to use Redbelly Mine as a nest. Crawled in there while we was sleeping. Damn shame about Fjoma and Bijnar--"

"-- Sad case too, you coulda seen me crack rock!" Odfel interrupted. He leaned over to Ally showing her his pickaxe. "You see miss, this here is 'Rocksplinter', cuts through stone like a hot knife through butter. I'd be happy to bring my pick to your mine."

Ally glanced at the pickaxe and gave Odfel a sly smile, which he returned in kind. She leaned into him chest-to-chest, tip-toed, and whispered into his ear. "You see Odfel, this is 'Lineage-Ender'," Ally's unsheathed steel dagger pressed flatly into Odfel's crotch, "it permanently severs family trees like a hot knife through butter. I'd be happy to show you." Her lips made a slight popping sound as she smiled in his ear.

"Uh.. no.. thanks. Sorry." Odfel carefully back-stepped removing his crotch from the dagger's razor edge and returned to his seat near the fire. A female miner had joined the group during the exchange.

"Sorry about Odfel, he's just an ass, no real explanation or excuses. He is who he is. I'm Sylgja, this is Grogmar or just 'Grog' for short. Are you here to help us?" the young woman asked. Odfel got up and left the fire, catching up to the female guard that patrolled the area.

Ally stepped over to the fire and sat on the stool that Odfel had just vacated. "Possibly, it could be quite risky. My name is Ally by the way."

"Yeah tell me about it. Not only are the spiders dangerous Ally, but you need to watch out for cave-ins too. The mine is pretty old and not in the best shape. I got hurt in there a while ago trying to deliver some food to the men; injured my leg pretty badly. Thankfully, a Priest of Mara happened to travel through our village and Filnjar flagged him down. I probably would have lost the leg if not for him," Sylgja related as she stared into the fire.

"Sorry to hear about your accident, but I'm glad you're back on your feet."

"I am, sort of, but I'm still unable to travel. My parents worry about me, they live over at Darkwater Crossing, a few miles west of here. I could probably make the distance one-way, but none of these guys are willing to help me get there, I don't know what I'd do if a wolf or bear attacked. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to deliver something for me? It's just a bundle of letters telling my parents that I'm okay."

"I'd be happy to though I don't know the way to Darkwater Crossing. Perhaps I can head back to Riften and ask a friend," Ally figured she could ask Balimund for directions.

"Hmm okay, let me get the letters," Sylgja left the fire and stepped into her home for a minute and returned, handing the bundled up letters to Ally.

"I could draw you a simple map, that should help." Sylgja went back into the house to grab some parchment and a quill. When she returned she drew Ally a map, pointing out various landmarks along the way.

"This is Clearspring Tarn, it's a small pool of water that my mother and father used to take me swimming in when I was younger. Not much dangerous there, you'll be able to sit and rest I'm sure. There is a cave below the Tarn that I would avoid," Sylgja laughed, "When we were young, some of us used to dare each other to go into the cave, we'd see who could go deepest. I never won." Sylgja continued drawing on the parchment.

"Next up is Snapleg Cave," Sylgja drew the cave and placed a large X over it. "I would not go in there, last I heard there was some dark magick associated with the place. After Snapleg, it's just a short northerly run over to Darkwater Passing. When you're there, look for Anneke or Verner, those are my parents. I'm sure they'll reward you with something for your troubles. They may also ask you to make a return trip here. I know you're not a courier, but I'd definitely appreciate it."

Ally accepted the map and letters and placed them into her satchel. There was still the business about the spiders to deal with.

"I can't make any promises, but I'm going to take a peek into the mine. I'll let you know what I find. If it's too much for me to handle, I'll be back and be on my way to Darkwater Crossing."

"Okay. Please be safe in there," Sylgja offered.

Ally nodded back at Sylgja and entered the cave. The sulfuric smell quickly enveloped her, causing her to cough. She immediately muffled her cough as she heard the clicking noises of spider legs on rock. From a distance a frostbite spider spit its web at her. She nimbly dodged the projectile and charged in for attack. She sidestepped the spider's strike and buried her dagger into the head of the spider.

Another spider made its way up the ramp from the depths below. Ally dispatched this one with ease, followed by another, and another. All told there were six frostbite spiders in the mine, all of them met the same end. Realizing the value of Frostbite Venom, Ally was a bit miffed that she was without vials to extract the precious poison. As she stepped past the last large spider carcass, she noticed some dessicated corpses. Fjoma and Bijnar, she concluded.

After exiting the mine, Ally dusted herself off and made her way over to Filnjar's forge. He looked surprised to see her.

"My that was quick. How bad was the infestation?"

"I took care of six of them. Didn't see any others. Hopefully, that's the end of your problems."

"Thanks so much, we can finally put Shor's Stone back on the map! Here's some reward money for your trouble," Filnjar handed Allysian a bag of 500 septims.

"Filnjar, this is too much, I can't accept this," Ally offered the bag back to the blacksmith.

"Nah, don't you worry about it. This IS an ebony mine after all, we'll do okay. You deserve it. By the way, word is that you're taking some of Sylgja's letters over to her folks at Darkwater. That's really kind of you. Another reason why you deserve the money."

"Speaking of that delivery, I'd better get going, don't want to be caught in the wild after dark. Thanks again Filnjar, maybe we'll see each other again," Ally smiled at the blacksmith.

"Oh, almost forgot, the miners wanted you to have this," Flinjar hands Ally a sack of 8 ebony ingots.

"Wow, this really is too much."

"Nah, the boys wanted you to have it. If not for you, we may have never re-opened the mine."

"Well do you think you could hold it for me? I'll pick it up at another time, it's too much for me to haul to Darkwater and back to Riften."

"Riften? We have a supply delivery heading that way tomorrow. I can probably stick these ores on there no problem. You know anyone there that you would trust?"

Ally smiled, "Yes! Please see to it that Balimund gets those will you? He'll be so happy." Ally removed her dagger and started carving a message into the ingot.

Survived another day, will be back in town in a few days.​

Love, A.​

She handed the ingot back to Filnjar and set off for Darkwater Crossing.

 

[K3V!N]

Nerlo Darellius - Imperial

To:
Aemilia Darellius
C/O The Tiber Septim Hotel
Imperial City
Cyrodiil

18th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dearest Sister,

I write to you from the cold, inhospitable northern Skyrim city of Windhelm. I wanted to write and let you know that you should not expect me home at my scheduled time as I will not be there for Sun’s Dusk. The ship I have been serving on has taken on an excessive amount of damage during our travels and has been docked for repairs. The East Empire Company did not do myself any favors and disbanded our crew without pay. I must say I am mourning the loss of that paycheck and I can only hope that house I was looking at is still available when I finally make it home. I went down to the docks this morning, as the company mentioned they were bringing in another ship to take our cargo onto Cyrodiil. I was disappointed to find out there was no room as I was one of the last ones to arrive. Nearly all of the crew made it on that ship and only a few of us have been left behind to fend for ourselves.

Fear not, I know you and Mother to worry too much and I must assure you that things are well for me here. I met a very nice gentleman called Dalan who works on another ship in harbor here called ‘The North Wind’. We shared some lunch and I was able to glean some information from him before parting ways. Apparently, there is a carriage operator here that will take me further south towards the border with Cyrodiil. The ride is expensive, I do not know how much yet but I shall find out tomorrow.

In the mean time I am trying to make due whilst I am here. I am staying at an inn called ‘Candlehearth Hall’, do you know it? According to the proprietor, it is so named for a candle that has not gone out for over one-hundred years. I do not know whether this is a fairy-tale or not but that candle has been burning throughout the duration of my stay! In any case, they charge ten septims per night and I’ve quickly found myself short on gold.

Today, after my conversation with Dalan I noticed several salmon swimming in the river. I did my best to grab a few from the docks, but in the end I had to strip down to my skivvies and dive in. I will say that I have experienced no colder water in my life and could only manage to dive for a minute or two before I got out. In the end, I managed to grab fourteen in total, quite a good haul I thought considering I had not fished by hand since we were children. If you can imagine my embarrassment though, as I streaked through town! By the time I got out of the water my teeth were chattering and the only place with a large fire I knew of was at the inn I am staying. Out front there are two cauldrons of fire that burn throughout the day and night so I immediately set out for those. At the very least I can say I am making an impression, the naked imperial that runs through the city with loads of fish. I just hope to the Gods that none of the town’s young women were watching.

After drying off and warming myself by the fire I was able to sell each fish for one septim per. I couldn’t believe how little people pay for fish here, but apparently fish are not in short supply. No matter though as I did secure some work for tomorrow with a lady called Hillevi whose husband owns a place called Hollyfrost farm. Apparently a recent wheat crop has just come in and they need some assistance with the harvest. I do say I’ve never been much of a farmer so we shall see how that goes!

Once I’d finished conducting my business at the market I set out to find some proper clothes. You see, I’ve been wearing the same clothes that I departed the Imperial City with, which have now worn down to tatters, my foot wraps didn’t even cover my toes anymore. I was directed to a place called ‘Sadri’s Used Wares’ in an area of the city they refer to as the ‘gray-quarter’.

To further elaborate, I can assure you that everything we’ve heard about these Nord’s is true. When I arrived in Windhelm after our ship was docked I overheard an encounter between two of the resident Nord’s and a poor Dunmer woman. They were accusing her of being an Imperial spy of all things and insinuating they would find her later to ‘find out what she really is’. I don’t like to meddle in affairs such as these but I have to say that incident is still weighing heavily on my mind. The innkeeper here, Elda Early-Dawn, is openly racist and is quick to tell me to ‘watch out for the grey-skins’. I am unsure what to make of it; these Nords seem every bit as ignorant as I had assumed they were.

Once I made it to Sadri’s I met the proprietor, Revyn, a Dunmer fellow who was going on about how his wares were acquired properly and not stolen etc… Odd, but nevertheless he did have some clothing on hand for sale. I’m not sure I can express how nice it felt to put on some decently clean clothes after wearing the rags I had been wearing. I ended up purchasing a simple outfit and a pair of hide boots which has a fur lining to protect against this bitter cold up here. Unfortunately, there were no shirts left which were long sleeved so I had to make do with what was in stock. In any case, as I write to you now my feet are warm and I no longer smell like dead fish and body odor as foul as that sounds.

After the trip to Sadri’s I made it back to the Candlehearth to have a meal and maybe converse with a few other tenants. I was able to procure a simple meal of bread and cheese with a bottle of wine from Elda, albeit begrudgingly listening to more of her racist comments along the way. She continues to ask me to not get ‘handsy’ with the barmaid, Susanna, whom I’ve not yet met. I’m not sure what goes on with this Susanna but, based on Elda’s paranoia, I imagine she may be quite the beauty. I do say, despite her tendency to annoy me with her talk of ‘grey-skins’ I do hope someone at the Tiber Septim Hotel does you the same courtesy as Elda does Susanna.

During my meal I met a rather unfortunate gentleman by the name of Torbjorn Shatter-Shield. There’s apparently been a rather gruesome string of murders here in Windhelm and Torbjorn’s daughter, Friga, was the latest victim. The killer apparently favors young women and does his killing in the shadows; they are calling him ‘the butcher’. I did my best to console him and offer my condolences but it is obvious he is distraught beyond what I could do for him. After buying Torbjorn a few mead I found myself without a single septim to my name. It was not all gloomy though, and Torbjorn asked me of my plans. I mentioned to him my plan to head south, back to Cyrodiil, and he urged me to consider not leaving Windhelm without a proper set of armor and a blade. I have to say I don’t think I’ve ever worn a suit of armor nor swung a blade aside from this dagger that I’ve kept. What could possibly await me in the land of Skyrim for which I would need such an extravagant setup?

Despite my apprehension, I think I might do well to heed Torbjorn's warning, after all these are his lands and he knows them better than I. I am unsure of how expensive weapons and armor are, but I’d venture to say they are more than I can afford. Torbjorn was so kind as to tell me if I were to purchase a two-handed weapon that he would offer me some training in how to swing the weapon properly. You should have seen his face when I told him I have never swung a weapon before, he nearly fell out of his chair! Cultural differences I suppose.

As the evening turned into night I struck up a conversation with a fellow Imperial by the name of Adonato Leotelli, have you heard of him? He insists he is a writer, and had a book on hand that he had just finished called ‘Olaf and the Dragon’. It was nice to commiserate with a kinsman who notices the same things I do about the people up here. He was kind enough to give me one of his quills and several sheets of parchment to which I am writing this letter on. Before he turned in for the evening he slid the copy of Olaf and the Dragon under my hand and asked me to deliver it to a man called Giraud Gemane at the Bard’s College in Solitude. Despite my protest he continued on about it and I finally relented, making no promises. Perhaps once I am back I can sail once more to Solitude.

Tomorrow is a new day and I will be out at Hollyfrost Farm early to help with the harvest. I will write when I can and as soon and I have an address for you to write to I will be sure to provide it. Please tell Mother not to worry, despite Windhelm being the center of the Stormcloak rebellion, not much is happening in the way of the war here. At most, people just talk about it and make snide comments here and there about the Imperials, nothing that I haven’t heard before. Please give Father my regards, how is his book coming along? With the way he goes on I wonder how he will ever know when to stop writing! I trust work is still going well for you at the Tiber Septim? Are you being courted by any suitors? I do miss you and Mother and Father so; I will soon be back though and will be able to regale you with amazing stories of my journey through Skyrim!

Love,
-Nerlo

 

[The_Madgod]

Velid Anahill​

​

"So this is Whiterun? I knew that I would end up here, but this is not how I thought it would happen.", thought Velid as Whiterun appeared in front of him. "That was a pretty busy day, even by my standards. Arrested, brought to Helgen, nearly executed for accidentally crossing the border, nearly killed by a dragon... Well, at least I made it out alive, and it's close to Whiterun. My caravan was supposed to arrive here." The Bosmer kept walking towards the majestic nordic city in front of him. "I guess I've just gotta survive here for a few more days. Shouldn't be too hard.", he thought aloud. As he rounded a corner and reached a meadery he heard shouting and the sounds of fighting over by a farm. He could just barely see a large blueish figure swinging a club around. "What's going on over there?", he shouted. "No idea, but I'm sticking around to find out!", replied a woman running off towards the city gates. Velid picked up speed and noticed a group of Nords attacking the creature with all forms of weaponry.​

​

Velid charged in and stabbed at the large creature with his rusty dagger, as it appeared to be the antagonist. "You there! Elf! Cut its' legs!", cried one of the Nords. Velid quickly obiged, though the thing had very thick skin and his rusty old dagger barely made a scratch. Then, a Nordic women shot an arrow into the creatures eye. It stumbled around blindly before tripping and impaling itself on a fence post. The Nord who had told him to cut the beasts legs chopped off the giant creatures head off. He picked up the head and began walking back to the city. As the woman with the bow passed him by she said, "You handle yourself well! You could make a decent shield-brother." "Shield-brother? What's that?", replied Velid. "An outsider, eh? We're from the Companions, a gorup of warriors who come to solve problems if the coin is good enough. You should think about applying. Tak to Kodlak Whitemane up in our meadhall, Jorvaskr. Any citizen could point you there." "Thanks. By the way, my names Velid." "I'm Aela, those two were Ria and Farkas. Nice to meet you, Velid. Now we havee to get back to Jorvaskr. Hope I'll see you around.", replied Aela. "She's nice, for a Nord woman. Most of these people have been quite rude, probably due to my being an elf. I wonder what that thing we were fighting was...", thought Velid.​

​

He was approaching the gate when a guard called out to him, "Hey! City's closed! Official business only!" "Look, can you please just let me in? Here, have this.", said Velid as he tossed the guard the last of his septims. "How much is this... 10... 20... 30... 40... 50! Come on in, friend! Feel free to come back anytime, as long as you have the coin!", said the guard while opening the gate. Velid walked through the gates, marvelling at how corrupt the town guards are in Whiterun. Just inside the gates there was a man in imperial armor arguing with a blacksmith. He was saying something aout wanting more armor and weapons for the Imperials. Velid tried skirting around them to avoid getting caught up in the conversation. He noticed a beggar, and wished he had some money to toss him. He stopped at a cozy-looking shop with a sign that said, "The Drunken Huntsman". Velid knocked and entered. Inside there was another wood elf at the counter.​

​

"And how may I help you, friend?", asked the shopkeep. Velid replied by saying, "Oh, nothing now. I'm just investigating the town. Hey, what do you sell here?" "Mostly hunting and archery supplies, though sometimes we pick up other things, and we also have food. My brother, Anoriath, runs a stall down in the market. Check there if you would like some fresh-caught game." "Could you point out the local inns and other places where I could stay?" "You could always join the Companions. They'd let you live in Jorvaskr. Then there's the Bannered Mare, an inn just up the road. Or you could apply for a job in the palace, though that's not a good choice if you don't intend to stay here. There's also a house for sale, Breezehome. You could buy that from the Jarls steward." "Thanks, friend!" "No problem, come back anytime!" Velid warmed himself for a second by the fire and quickly left. He had a sudden urge to check out this Jorvaskr place, maybe he'd be able to stay there for free. He could always work on one of the farms until he had enough money to spend the night at the inn. Velid finally decided that, since it was only around noon, he would head up to the Companions place and see what they're all about. ​

​

"Hey, you! Gray-Mane or Battle-Born?", shouted the man who had been arguing with the blacksmith earlier. "What?", was Velids simple reply. "You got stones in your ears? Gray-Mane or Battle-Born?", said the man. "Who?", asked Velid. "An outsider, eh? We Battle-Borns support the empire, but those traitor Gray-Manes threw their lot in with the Stormcloaks. Now I'll ask you again, Gray-Mane or Battle-Born?" "I'd prefer to avoid choosing sides." "Sooner or later we all have to choose a side." "Wait, before you go, I have a question. Where is Jorvaskr?" "Just follow the road and turn right when you reach the giant tree. You can't miss it. It's populated by Gray-Manes, though, so if I were you I'd avoid the place." "Thanks." "You take care of yourself now.", finished the Battle-Born. "What an odd man!", thought Velid. he continued up the road until he reached a giant dead tree, There was a man preaching about Talos, a large nordic building and a stairway to the palace. By now it was about 2:00. Velid walked up to the nordic building, which he believed was Jorvaskr. He noticed an elevated forge and a training ground out back. He sucked in his breath and opened the door.​

​

"I tell ya, if we ran this place, things would be different! We'd change things around here!" " I don't think that's how things work here." "Quiet down you two! Farkas and I are talking!" "Hey there!" "Oh hi there! I see you followed my advice and came over here!" "Hey! I need more mead!" Jorvaskr was a hub of activity. Surprisingly, they were not all Nords. He saw Imperials and Elves as well, though no beastfolk. Ria and Aela approached him and said, "Hey there, giant-killer! You were quite brave out there!" "That you were. I see you followed my advice and decided to join!" "Actually I'm in Whiterun waiting for my friends to arrive. I'm a member of a Khajiit Trading Caravan. I have nothing to my name except these clothes and this dagger due to my being falsely imprisoned in Helgen, and while thinking of what to do I remembered you and decided to check out Jorvaskr.", said Velid. "You could always join and head somewhere else. Whenever you return to the city we'd give you jobs and you could sleep here.", chimed in Farkas. "You should head downstairs and speak to our harbinger, Kodlak. He's the one who judges new recruits.", said Ria. "Might as well", replied Velid. "Well, you'd better do it quick before we're forced to evict you from Jorvaskr.", said Aela. Velid quickly headed downstairs and walked straight forward to the biggest room in the hall, ignoring most everything else, as it was all very similar to hunting and Fighters Guild halls in Cyrodill and Valenwood. He opened the door and noticed two Nords talking about the wolf or something like that.​

​

"I feel the wolf getting stronger in me everyday. We must cure it soon.", said one. "Vilkas, we have a visitor.", said the other. "I'd like to be a Companion. The three known as Ria, Aela and Farkas will vouch for me. I helped them fell a giant outside of town.", said Velid. "Now now, there's no need for that vouching stuff. This isn't an army. I'll judge you and see if you're worthy.", replied the second Nord. "Harbinger, you aren't seriously thinking of letting that weakling into the Companions?", said the one called Vilkas. "Now, now Vilkas. I like him. How about you take him out into the yard and let him hit you a few times. See what he's made of. Then get into a little sparring match. If you think he's good enough, then he's in. If not, then he'll have to prove his worth some other way or leave." "Fine, Kodlak, but I doubt he'll be able to stand up to me with that rusty dagger and little tunic.", said Vilkas. "You never know. If not, give him some spare armor and a good sword. If he can, then give him nothing.", replied Kodlak. "Ok.", said Vilkas, "C'mon, whelp! To the training yard." "Yes sir.", said Velid. "And none of that "sir" business. We have no leader, just the circle and our advisor, Kodlak Whitemane." Velid and Vilkas walked back up and out into the training yard.​

​

"Okay, let's get started before the sun sets! I'll raise my shield, you see if you break my defenses with any weapon you have.", said Vilkas as he raised a simple hide shield. Velid immediately drew the dagger and stabbed right below the shield, causing Vilkas to back up. He then stabbed at the shield while Vilkas was distracted and caused him to stumble. Then Velid placed the dagger at Vilkas' throat. "Nice job, whelp!", said Vilkas, "Now let's see you actually fight me!" "Gladly!", said Velid enthuiastically, "This is just like the Fighters Guild down south!" Velid stabbed at Vilkas and they fought, Velid jumping out of the way of his weapon and stabbing forward. After about 20 minutes of this Velid got his dagger up to Vilkas' throat. "You're much better than the average milk-drinker, elf!", said Vilkas, "You're in!" "Thanks, Vilkas! I have a place to sleep tonight." "You are now family. I need you to take this sword up to our blacksmith. Could you do that?" "Sure." "His names Eorlund Gray-Mane, runs the Skyforge. Entire city was built around that thing. He's not all that talkative, so just deliver the sword and leave." "Got it." "Thanks. He's already gone home, I think, so I'd deliver the sword tomorrow." "Well, I'd better get to sleep. I had none last night." "Well I'm gonna finish my mead.", ended Vilkas. Velid went to sleep that night feeling as if things were finally going his way. He's been having a string of bad luck since they entered Morrowind and it seemed to finally be over.​

​

​

 

[Stutta]

Cyrus A'Tor​

A murky light faded in the ripples of time. The sun? Satakal? Tava? How long had it held his gaze? No matter, for it was, and he was, without anything else. All of a sudden, his trance was interrupted. He sat bolt upright on the swamp floor, coughing, gasping for breath. His lungs had filled with water.

Cyrus was lost in every sense of the word. He knew not what shore he now found himself washed upon, nor even what month it was. His last memory was of his ship being torn to pieces by the storm, then nothing. He glanced about: a slumbering town built upon an endless swamp. He felt the cold for the first time. It stung stronger than a desert scorpion. He thanked Tava under his breath, for she, his mistress, had guided him safely from the dangers of the sea.

The Redguard could sense he needed shelter. The unfamiliar pain of the cold slowed his body and made it difficult for his mind to think. He pulled himself up and stumbled onto the nearby road. Cyrus knew not what to expect in the multitude of shuttered huts, for he had little exposure of the peoples outside of the Alik’r desert. Nothing was awake in the dead of the night to watch him struggle so he staggered to the only safe structure in sight, an empty charred house. Curling up in the closest thing to shelter he could find, the mortal prayed to Tava to spare him once more as he negotiated a restless sleep in the cold of the night.

Five hours in the snow and his body could take no more. He pounded on the door of the largest structure in the village, shouting in his native, guttural Ra Gada language. He was greeted by two heavily armored guards with drawn weapons. Seeing his haggard state, the one on the right shouted back to his commander for orders.

“Let him in! The man will die out there alone,” came an elderly voice from the back of the room, “Please, warm yourself by the fire, the cold has claimed too many lives for this swamp,” addressing herself to Cyrus.

“You have my gratitude, majesty,” assumed Cyrus in his thick desert accident. “For this I owe you a debt, which I will repay in the name of my ancestors and for your people,” he declared as he felt the warmth of the great fire in his bones.

“You are not from here. It is rare that we receive visitors in Morthal.”

“Mort’al,” Cyrus muttered under his breath, “My clan hailed once from the desert of the Alik’r, but they are no more and have been no more since I was but a welp. On which sands does Mort’al sit?”

“We are a Nord settlement, shadowed by Solitude, hidden in the great swamp. Our people are not used to visitors. They have suffered much of late, your time here will be difficult, but they will grow accustomed to you,” warned Idgrod. “Warm your bones, I return to my chambers now.”

Cyrus snuck out of the longhouse before anyone could wake again. He already owed his life, he’d be ashamed to ask for any more. He meandered the streets aimlessly, exploring what was now his home. As he gazed out to the endless swamp, the sun began to rise. While nothing compared to the sun of Hammerfell, he could feel the warmth of the rays. An honest man needs honest work, and as he wandered to the edge of town, a man offered to pay him to split wood. This was a job Cyrus was familiar with. He had cut firewood for his protector for many years. He began to chop and quickly discovered that the wood of the north was much denser than that of the desert. He progressed slowly but worked hard for many hours. As his stomach began to growl and his arms tremble, Cyrus left the mill with a handsome purse. He entered the tavern, where he felt he stood out like a cactus on a dune. He felt the glares of the other patrons as he sat at a corner table, hoping not to draw any attention, and waited for the server.

“Well, my my, we don’t get very many visitors around here, what can I get ya?”

As Cyrus looked up, he was shocked to see a Redguard woman standing next to him. Her dress and her accent were Nord, but her skin left no doubt. He was relieved to be in the company of kin.

“Were you a passenger of the ‘Wind’ as well? How have you fared in this land of ice and cold?” Cyrus inquired naively.

“Hmm? Honey, I’ve worked here my whole life, would you like some food?”

It seemed this woman was no native of Hammerfell. Cyrus was disappointed but could not argue with his stomach. He ordered some food, so foreign to a man of the desert, lacking in so many spices. As he ate, he could hear the talks around him. They spoke of the burned house he had used as shelter the night before. Many thought it haunted. Cyrus wondered if he was the cause for such hushed rumors. He would inquire with the Jarl. As he left the inn, a bear of a man approached him aggressively. “We don’t need any more outsiders around here, leave us,” he growled. Cyrus tried to keep his head down, but this man blocked his path over and again. “Persistent,” thought Cyrus. The honor of his clan was at stake, and he could not let them down. The situation persisted and he had but one choice.

Cyrus raised his fists as he met the big man’s stare. A scowl crossed the bear’s lips, and Cyrus could feel the usual rush of adrenaline through his heart prior to a fight. His muscles were taught, ready to release. The man launched a storm of massive fists, but Cyrus weaved in and out, perfect footwork getting the best of the lumbering giant. As the fight drew on and Cyrus wore the man’s endurance, he felt a massive blow to the side of the head. It knocked him back several steps and the man took the opportunity to launch several more punches. Cyrus let them glance off the best he could, using the aggressor’s momentum to his own detriment. When he could take no more, and he felt his body about to collapse, he put the fury of his people into a square hit on the man’s jaw. It was enough, and the mountain crumpled.

The Nord looked up at the victor from his knees and said, “You fight well outsider, take these coins. Please, don’t bring this to the Jarl’s attention.” Cyrus had no intention of doing so, he had been satisfied with his clan’s approval, but thanked the man anyways. “If you ever need a hammer by your side, just come to me,” continued Benor. “An aggressive people, but honorable,” thought Cyrus to himself as he continued to the Jarl’s longhouse. The sun lowered in the sky as Cyrus inquired about the house. It seemed a man had burned it down along with his family and the Jarl needed someone to investigate.

“This much I owe you,” replied Cyrus, “you are a kind ruler with many troubles. Allow me to ease your burden.” And so he returned to the inn to await the fall of night, when he could investigate without the gazes of troublesome eyes.

 

[MushroomGenius]

Allysian Liore - Imperial​

Barring any unexpected trouble, Ally figured her trip to Darkwater Crossing shouldn't take more than a few hours. She trusted the map that Sylgja had drawn her and set off to deliver the bundle of letters to Verner and Anneke, Sylgja's parents.

After about 30 minutes of uneventful walking, Allysian spotted a guardtower. Perhaps I'll stop in and ask them about any possible trouble along the way, I'd like to avoid those Black-Toe bandits as much as possible, she thought, reliving her encounter from early this morning. As she approached the watch tower, something felt amiss. Looking at the tower, she saw no sentries observing the roads and saw no guards muddling about near the road itself. She decided to examine the situation further.

She saw one guard slouched against the tower, there was no stench of death, but the flies around his body were already in a frenzy. Another guard lay face down near the fire pit. She continued inside the tower.

Just inside the tower, she noticed a rack of weapons, they were basic iron, but provided a bit more attacking power than her simple steel daggers. She decided on the iron mace after a few swings. She'd never wielded a mace before, but the heft felt good in her hand. Against more heavily armored foes, I needn't be so precise compare to a blade, she considered. She strapped the mace to her hip and tossed one of her daggers on the ground. Her pack was already pretty full.

Ally continued up the stairs to the observation deck of the tower. She found two more dead guards. She slung the quiver of iron arrows sitting on the table over her shoulder, but refused to take the bow that the dead guard still firmly grasped. She opened the chest, reached in and retrieved the iron battleaxe down at the bottom. Hmm.. interesting, Allysian mused. Beneath the axe were a few septims which she gladly pocketed. She descended the stairs quickly, fearing that she be implicated in this attack should someone else show up.

Once outside and further down the path, she examined the battle axe. She swung it a bit, it was quite heavy for her and awkward to swing. She noticed a felled tree and took some huge swings at it, burying the axe head deep into the tree bark. It was simply too much for her meager frame, but she liked the idea of such a large weapon. Perhaps Balimund could fashion something for me that I could actually wield with some confidence, she mused. She left the axe blade buried in the tree and continued on her way to Darkwater.

Just as Sylgja had promised, she discovered Clearspring Tarn. She sat for a moment, retrieving the bread and bit of dried beef that Talen-Jei had given her. She treated herself to an apple and stepped down to the pool to take a drink when some noise from below the tarn put her on alert. Ally scrambled back behind some bushes, as a deer came charging up the path towards the pool. Arrows flew above the buck's head as it ran past her deeper into the autumn-hued forest.

Two men ran up to the pond searching for the deer, Ally remained hidden as best she could. The men whispered something to each other and continued tracking the deer, not noticing Ally motionless in the bush. She assumed they were simple hunters, but she stayed hidden just in case. Once she was sure they were gone, she hurried back over to the pool, grabbed a quick drink and continued on her way.

Ally remembered Slygja telling her about a cave located below the pond. Being the curious sort, she decided to give it a look. She located the unassuming cave and ventured inside.

The cave was fairly large, water dripped from the ceiling of the cave to a pool below. It appeared as if Clearspring Tarn above fed water into this cave. She picked up a small mossy rock, about the size of her hand and examined it. Nope, not a rock, it was a skull. Fox skull, she concluded. She quietly stepped foot over foot further into the cave. Holes in the roof of the cave provided some lighting so she left her torch strapped to her satchel as she continued further in. From a distance she noticed what looked like a bow placed on a pedestal deep in the cave. Obviously intrigued, Ally continued to approach not noticing any danger then suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks. A Troll. New mace or not, she was not about to fight a Troll. She could hear the Troll's breathing, the labored intake of air and the wet exhale. Suddenly the Troll stopped its breathing. There were a couple of loud, quick sniffs as the Troll examined the air.

The Troll wheeled around and charged at Ally. In a panic, Ally threw the skull at the Troll and ran towards the exit. The skull simply bounced off the Troll's thick hide as he continued his charge.

Ally sprinted out of the cave and down the path not looking back. She heard the Troll roar, but it seemed quite some distance from where she was. She turned around and spotted the cave entrance and the Troll standing there. The Troll turned and returned to his cave. Ally afforded herself a laugh and figured this would be a great story to tell Sylgja should their paths cross again.

Following the position of the sun and Sylgja's map, Ally located Snapleg Cave. Taking Sylgja's advice to heart this time, she avoided the cave completely and headed north. Along the way, Ally picked a few more flowers and mushrooms and deftly pocketed a few more butterfly wings.

After another hour of hiking, Ally came upon an overlook. Stepping to the edge, she could see a settlement down below, a small farmhouse and several tents. She assumed this was Darkwater Crossing so she continued following the path down the hill.

Darkwater Crossing was even smaller than Shor's Stone. Not so much a mining town as it was just a settlement. There was only one permanent structure, the farmhouse. As she approached, a guard stopped her.

"What business do you have in Darkwater Crossing, miss?" the guard asked.

"I'm just passing through, delivering a stack of letters to Verner or Anneke from Shor's Stone," Ally responded.

"Well they're both in the mine. I wouldn't advise you to go in there. You're welcome to wait out here until they're done." The guard pointed over to the firepit where a young girl sat. Ally approached the girl and sat near her smiling. The girl introduced herself as Hrefna and was exceptionally friendly.

Ally and Hrefna sat by the warm fire exchanging stories. Hrefna described how she loved swimming in the lake with Derkeethus, an Argonian miner that had recently gone missing. She also shared her opinions on the war currently raging across Skyrim. Apparently, the girl had no love for this Ulfric Stormcloak person. Ally related her own experiences growing up in Cyrodiil and told Hrefna of her recent adventures. The sun had set by the time Verner had emerged from the mine.

"Guard says you have something for me? Funny, you don't look like a courier," Verner asked, wiping the sweat and dirt off his forehead with his sleeve.

Ally dug into her satchel and retrieve the bundle of letters, handing them to Verner. "These are from Sylgja. She said she's doing better, but is still not able to travel. She asked me to bring these to you."

"Oh, why thank you. Thank you! We hadn't heard from her in weeks since that accident in the mine. My wife Anneke travelled over there to check on her right after it happened, but came back when that Priest of Mara assured her that Syl would recover. Are you planning to go back there?" he inquired.

"Not at the moment, I wasn't, it's getting awfully late and I'm far from Riften."

"I was hoping you'd be able to send a care package back to my daughter. I know she misses her mother's baking, it would certainly lift her spirits. You could stay here for the night, the package would be ready to go in the morning."

"I suppose I could do that."

"Well I'll have Anneke make up a bed for you inside," Verner motioned over to the farmhouse.

"No, that's okay, I think I'll camp under the starts with Hrefna tonight," Ally smiled and gave Hrefna a wink. Hrefna gleefully returned the smile.

As the rest of the camp emerged from the mine, Ally met Tormir (Hrefna's mother) and Sondas a Dunmer miner. Sondas lamented over Derkeethus going missing, saying it was foolish of him to go looking for more fish. They all worried over thier missing friend and had to work twice as hard with a man missing. Anneke was the last person out of the mine, introducing herself to Ally. Anneke excused herself to get cleaned up and start on her baking. While her treats were baking, Anneke rejoined the group at the fire. Anneke shared some of her stories when she spent time out in the wild. Ally got the impression that Anneke truly missed the life of an adventurer. Hrefna, Tormir, Sondas and Verner all took their leave and went to bed, leaving Ally and Anneke alone by the fire.

"Why don't you come with me to see your daughter Anneke?" Ally asked.

"I can't right now, there's a bandit camp that's been threatening our mine. We need every available blade, I need to stay here until that threat is taken care of," Anneke sighed.

"Black-Toes?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I had a run-in with one of them this morning near Shor's Stone."

"Near Shor-- oh no, I hope they're not planning a raid on Shor's Stone too..."

"A Riften guard told me that the Bandits had taken Fort Greenwall and that some wandering Khajiit have gone missing. I also came across a guard tower, all four guards were dead," said Ally.

"Then they're expanding. This is not good. Someone has to do something. I heard they're headquartered at ____________, would it be possible for you to alert the Jarl and ask her to assemble a party to take them out?" Anneke asked, desperation in her voice.

"I'll go back to Riften immediately after Shor's Stone."

"Thank you, we may have to move fast on this especially if the Black-Toes are expanding and recruiting."

Anneke returned to her baking and Ally crawled into a tent to get some sleep. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, Anneke was waking her up, it was still dark out.

"You should get going Ally, we need to move swiftly. Thank you for everything you're doing for us."

Ally packed up her things, accepting the care package from Anneke and retraced her steps back to Shor's Stone, the warmth of a freshly baked sweetroll filling her stomach.

 

[The_Madgod]

Velid Anahill​

​

Velid awoke to the sounds of revelry. He cracked his neck and knuckles and stood up. Still feeling drowsy, he decided to go up and see what time of day it was. Then he would deliver the sword to the blacksmith and see if the caravan had arrived in Whiterun. He left the crambed chambers and followed the yelling upstairs, to the meadhall. He opened the door and noticed two of the residents sparring, Njada Stonearm and Athis. He ignored the fight and all the yelling and just ate some cheese and bread, an apple, some mead and some venison for breakfast. He was starving, as he hadn't eaten anything since he was apprehended at the border. The fight broke up around the time he finished his meal, with Njada as the victor. Aela approached him and said, "Hey, whelp! You're up late. It's almost noon! Here, this'll get you started", she said as she tossed him a bundle of clothes, a mace and some coin. "Thanks, Aela. I have to go deliver some sword to Eorlund or something, the blacksmith.", replied Velid as he searched through the coin purse. 80 septims, just enough to buy an old chestplate. He retreated back downstairs to change, leaving his old tunic in a barrel which he assumed was a trash bin. As he walked upstairs, Aela approached him. "Hey, elf, if you're going to see Eorlund, could you ask about my shield? He's supposed to be making one for me.", asked the Nord. "Sure thing!", answered Velid, "Anything else?" "No, that's good for now, thanks. I'll probably be downstairs, in my quarters. And, a word of advice, get yourself some leather armor or something. You'll need it if you are to be a member of the Companions.", she replied. "I was planning to do just that. I'll just head up to the Skyforge and speak to Eorlund. Bye.", finished Velid as he was walking out the back door.​

​

Velid walked up the steps to the odd old forge next to Jorvaskr. There he saw an old man sharpening a steel sword on the grindstone. "Are you Eorlund Grey-Mane?", asked Velid. "That I am. What are you here for? Need something forged? Are you the new whelp I heard the Companions talking about?", replied the old Nord. "Vilkas sent me. Wants his sword sharpened. Could you do that?", said the Bosmer. "'Course I can! I'm the best blacksmith in Skyrim, maybe even all of Tamriel!", answered Eorlund. "I was also told to ask about a shield for Aela?" "I was about to ask you to deliver that myself. Here." The blacksmith tossed Velid a shield, which he was barely able to catch. "Could I also get your cheapest shield or chestplate? All I have is 80 septims.", asked Velid. "Here, this is the cheapest shield I have. 77 septims, please.", said Eorlund. "Thank you, I'll get the shield to Aela right away.", finished Velid as he began walking down the stairs. While he was walking towards the door to Jorvaskr he was approached by Farkas. "Hey, whelp. I have a job if you're willing to take it. Some vampires have been harrassing the locals from Moldering Ruins. We need you to take care of 'em. Be careful, though, they can infect you with their curse.", said Farkas. He then entered Jorvaskr without allowing Velid to reply. Velid sat down and stared at the Skyforge, wondering if this would be his new life. He noticed an odd arching crac in the rock under the Skyforge. He stared at it for a second. He was starting to think of why it was there and why it looked so... perfectly cut, not like a regular crack when Aela brought him back to the real world. "Hey, you got my shield?", she said. Velid stared at her, oddly infatuated. He shook his head and gave her one of the two hide shields strapped to his back, the one fitted with other materials to make it more resistant to attacks. "Here.", he said. "Thanks, whelp. I mean, thanks, Velid. Now I heard Farkas say he gave you a job. It's getting late, so I'd wait until sunnup to kill the creatures. Vampires are usually asleep during the day.", replied Aela. "Thanks for the tip.", said Velid. "No problem.", finished Aela as she retreated back into Jorvaskr. Velid felt an odd feeling whenever he saw her, something he'd never felt before. He shook his head and decided to go see if the caravan had arrived in the city. ​

​

The walk to the gates was pretty uneventful, though the guard he had bribed said that now that he was a member of the Companions he no longer had to pay to enter, unfortuneatly. He walked outside and followed the winding path back to the stables. When he reached the bottom he noticed a Khajiit chopping wood. "Khayla!", cried Velid. The Khajiit pricked her ears and turned her head, saying, "Velid? Is that truly you? This one does not believe her eyes! Ri'Saad! Atayla! Ma'randru-Jo! It is Velid!", called out the Khajiit. Three others came out of a tent and grouped around Velid. He told his story and at the end all of the Khajiit looked at each other with odd faces. Then Velid remembered that they do not harbor anyone with a bounty. "I understand. I will head to Solitude to see if I may be granted a pardon, either by enlisting or for saving a soldiers life. If not, then I will likley never see you again. If you need me for any reason, I am bunking with a group known as the Companions. Ask anyone for the location of their mead-hall. Goodbye.", said Velid solemnly and upfront. "Wait! This one will miss you greatly. Marandru-Jo remembers when you were still a cub in Valenwood. If Khajiit ever sees you again, Khajiit will still be on good terms. Know that and take solace in it. May the cold sands of Skyrim take you to your fortune, friends.", said a Khajiit. "The same to you, friend.", answered Velid as he began walking away from the caravan and back up to Jorvaskr.​

​

Velid opened the gates to the city and slowly walked up to the shopping district. There he saw a beggar, to whom he tossed the last three septims he owned. "Oh, thank you! Divines bless your kind heart!", was the mans simple reply. He noticed a woman who looked quite angry. "Hello there. You appear to be troubled by something. I could help you, if you'd allow me.", said Velid. The woman looked up from her vegetable stand and said, "Well, actually, I do have a bit of a problem. There is a man, name of Mikael, in the tavern who keeps saying he will conquer me, like a true Nord conquers any beast. If you wouldn't mind, could you go take care of him for me? I'd compensate you for a job well done.", replied the woman. "I require no money. I will deal with him at my earliest convienence. Not tonight, but certainly within the next couple of days.", answered Velid. "Thank you so much!" "It is no trouble to me at all. I'm just looking for anything to do nowadays.", finished Velid. He walked off toward Jorvaskr, feeling a bit happier knowing that he had helped to brighten someone elses day.​

​

For once when he entered Jorvaskr not much was going on. Everyone appeared to be outside, downstairs or eating. He pulled up a seat and dug into some venison and an apple. He had a quick drink of nord mead and went to go lay down and reflect on his day, even though the it was only sunset. He thought about the crack in the forge, and how he wold deal with this Mikael guy. He thought of how much he would miss his caravan, but most of all he thought of Aela the Huntress. With her in his mind he pleasantly dozed off, dreaming of all the things from his dya. Vampires, companions, Khajiits and Nords, all floating around in his mind while he slept.​

 

[Psiberzerker]

Shriekwind Bastion:

"Uh!" those ice mumies out there was dangeros! Nothing in here, thogh, so make my way down, and there's this pull chain. A secret door! Good thing I found it from this side. Ooh!

"What's this?" Look around, "Njoink!"

Continuing on, there were stairs up to the right, but I remember climbing up here, so if there's another way out, it's probably down, right? Up a head, there's this real bloody room, but on the floor is a difrent kinda red. Kinda purplish, even. A stone, probably worth something.

"Picked a bad time to get lost, friend!" I held my sword up, to stop his. A bandit, I guess. Iron helmet, shield, and armor, stepping down from some throne. I bashed his shield quick, and hacked downward. He stagerd, back a step, and my next swing finished him.

"Whew!" I caught my breath. I never killed somebody fighting back before. I mean, bone men, and those 2 ice mummies out front, but they arn't really dead, are they? It wasn't like that bar maid, back in town, I felt tired, and it took a bit to catch my breath.

Useless, just a bit of gold, and that heavy loud armor I don't know how they breathe in, much less fight. Forget sneaking, I can barely pull it off in these boots.

Anyway, I kept on, and there was this big room, with even more skeletons. That's a little more my speed, the undead are dumb. I mean real dumb, even I can sneak up on one of these boneys, especially this one standing under an arch. Just slip down, drop behind him, and

THUNK! he stagers, and falls to peices with my next swing, but not there's arrows snapping around me, so i hide behind this here piller, and wait. Another boney comes around, so I hit him, bash him, hit him again. Not so tough, and like I said, pretty dumb.

Ok, so keep going down, and next there's this gate, and it took me a while to find the chain for it. An empty room, but there's gates, and the one up the stairs has more boneys in there. 2 of them, I never took two at once, and "Ow!"

I whirled, and slashed behind me. Another one! I backed up to the wall, blocking, and bashing to slow them, then cut them down. "Ahhh." I caught my breath, "That Hurt!" and kicked at the pile of bones. Forget this, I probly got enough to buy some paper, and hopefuly it gonna get light soon...