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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-201-08-18 06:23
Alvor and Sigrid's House, Riverwood, Whiterun, Skyrim
I wake up feeling awesome. I can see the family around the table. They don't seem to mind me. I get up and quietly slip myself into a spare chair, trying to look like I hadn't just occupied their matrimonial bed.
The subsequent greetings and oh-that's-all-right's are somewhat awkward, so let me better just give you an overview of the people gathered around the table.
Alvor is Hadvar's uncle. He's a blacksmith. A strongly built friendly man with a beard. Sigrid is his wife, a very nice and hospitable woman. Dorthe is their daughter who seems to be not too keen on cooking and sewing and such with her mother, and fantasizes about becoming a warrior. I ought to take her along on a trip. At the first wolf attack, she'd run screaming all the way back home and have some second thoughts about her career choices. But I'd be endangering her and that's not good. She'll get her life priorities straight someday.
At this point, I feel I ought to clarify one thing. In the ideal world, I would settle down with a strong smart caring man in a beautiful and safe place (which would probably mean outside of Skyrim) and never lay my hands on a sword. But I have to live in the real world. There is no doubt in my mind – I can't possibly think of keeping home and raising children before I have gained at least some clarity about those weird things going on around me and possibly gotten some of my memory back. I mean, do I already have a home, a family, is there someone waiting for me somewhere?
I wasn't a virgin before Hadvar, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm married. Not at all, in this day and age. In fact, I have a strong feeling I'm not, and I know for certain that I don't have any children. But what about parents, siblings, friends? How could I possibly find peace of mind without finding out?
Oh. Excuse me a moment while I jump up and go help Sigrid with the breakfast. It's the least I can do to repay their kindness, and besides, I so love cooking.
Alvor is really shocked about that dragon. He's afraid that if it attacked nearby Helgen, it might attack Riverwood as well. Therefore, while Hadvar will try to cobble up a defense force from whatever there is in the village, Alvor asks me to bring a letter to the local ruler asking him to send some soldiers here. If I happen to be heading that way...
Yeah, sure, I might just as well. Would be great to see a city, and I'd love to do my new friends a service.
But I absolutely have to go shopping first. There's a shop right across the street. I must go there. It's stronger than me. Um, on second thought, I'd better have a bath first. Especially because it's only half past 7 and the shop won't open until 8. That leaves me time to fill you in on what the men went on about at the breakfast table. Politics, what else? It would appear that there's a war on between Imperials and Stormcloaks. I shall call them "imps" and "storks" for short. I couldn't care less about their silly war, but when one walks around in an unknown country, it's necessary to keep informed about such things. The gagged man in that horsecart with me yesterday was none other than the leader of the storks Ulfric Stormcloak. He's supposed to have killed the king of Skyrim who in turn is a vassal of the emperor. Ulfric wants to be the king of Skyrim himself, and he wants Skyrim to be independent of the Empire. Are you with me so far? Good. Now, Skyrim is divided into "holds" and Riverwood is part of the Whiterun Hold, ruled by a jarl. He resides in the city of Hviterun which they assure me is not far away. Some people, by the way, spell the city's name the same as the hold's – Whiterun.
But enough of that. I'm in the shop now. The shopkeeper's name is Lucan Valerius and he is assisted by his sister Camilla. On my way here, I already picked up some street gossip on her. Apparently there are two men, Sven and Faendal, competing for her affection. But right now she and Lucan are concerned with something more immediate – thieves have stolen a valuable possession, a golden dragon's-claw-shaped ornament. The criminals are supposed to have gone in the direction of Bleak Falls Barrow – a scary spooky ancient ruin of sorts. I tell them I'll try to get their golden claw back. I'm not sure I actually can, but Camilla sounds almost like she's ready to go rushing after the thieves herself.
Camilla insists on going and pointing out the right road to me. Lucan is not happy.
I sell all my excess stuff to Lucan. I don't buy anything, because I need all the money I can get to afford training which is very expensive. Training not only improves my skills but, more importantly, it helps me gain personal development levels, which means, among other things, better magical protection against physical damage. With each new level, my health increases by 10 points, and even 10 points can easily mean the difference between life and death in this merciless land.
[I ought to point out that "health" in the meaning of Skyrim magic means how much physical damage you can take before you die. In other words, how hard a hit will be lethal to you. "Health" has nothing to do with getting ill. "Healing" spells and potions don't cure any diseases. So it's a very misleading term, but since everyone uses it in this meaning, I shall follow the custom.]
I exit the shop with Camilla. She shows me massive robust stone structures high up the mountains across the river. That's Bleak Falls Barrow.
We walk to the direction opposite to where Hadvar and I came from last night. There's a fortification wall of sorts, but it doesn't cover the entire perimeter of the village, only the two entrances along the main road. Hadvar is there talking to some men. He walks with us to a bridge, across which one road turns right and another one left. Camilla explains me that the latter leads to the Bleak Falls Barrow and the former to the city of Hviterun.
Hadvar makes no move of going back to the village and neither do I. Camilla seems to take the hint and suggests she'd better return to the shop before Lucan gets worried, and I try to keep a straight face when I reply: "Yeah, thanks. See you around."
When she's out of earshot, Hadvar says Bleak Falls Barrow is a bad place and I mustn't go there. When I ask for specifics, he ends up reminiscing how he was afraid as a boy that the undead corpses called "draugr" would creep down the mountains at night. I assure him I'm going to take the other road and go to Hviterun to bring his uncle's letter to the jarl.
In the sight of the village guards, we dare not do more than hug and kiss goodbye. Sure enough, we are a legitimate couple, but to vanish into the bushes (or take a room at the inn) for half an hour would still be too embarrassing in such a close-knit community where I'm already the talk of the village.
So I head for Hviterun. It's a lovely warm sunny day, but Alvor and Hadvar's worry is getting into me. They were unanimous – it can't be a coincidence that the dragon attacked shortly before Ulfric Stormcloak was about to be beheaded. They suspect the storks have somehow learned to control a dragon. (Hadvar, as you may remember, is on the Empire's side, and so is his family.) It makes sense, yet there's little point for me to dwell on it. I need to watch out for wolves. Just as yesterday, I am very afraid of being attacked by wolves on the road, and I actually feel surprised when I'm already seeing a magnificent city in the distance and realize nothing happened. Then I notice a group of... no, not wolves, soldiers. As inconspicuously as I can, I quickly turn off the road and take a shortcut through the bushes. Just to be on the safe side.
I hope you won't be cross with me for telling things at such length. You must understand that this is a whole new world for me, what with my memory loss and all. It's quite possible that you are already familiar with Skyrim, but I discover something new on every corner.
The first building on the outskirts of this city which I presume to be Hviterun is a meadery. There are a couple of workers and a couple of very rough-looking very unfriendly and uncommunicative men in there. I leave quickly. Further on, I see a group of humans fighting a giant. It occurs to me that if I'd shoot arrows at him from the distance, he hopefully wouldn't attack me, because he'd be busy with the other attackers who are closer to him. I do so.
After something like 8 arrows from me, supported by the fighters' sword blows, that huge creature falls down, dead.
I exchange a few words with my three expromptu allies – a man named Farkas and two women Aela and Ria. They belong to a group called the Companions whose headquarters Jorrvaskr is in this city, Hviterun.
I ask them where they stand in the war. They say they don't care. All they're interested in is being offered money for fighting. They are grateful for my help against the giant, and suggest I join their organization. I'm not too keen. They seem to be just a gang of thugs-for-hire wrapping themselves in noble and glorious mythology. But of course there's no point letting my opinion show, which is why I just take leave of my new friends amicably.
On my way to the city entrance, I come across a tent of a traveling Khajiit merchant. Naturally I stop for some shopping and chat.
Khajiits are so incredibly cool. I adore them.
The guards at the gate tell me the city is closed, but when I say I come from Alvor of Riverwood with a message for the jarl, they allow me to enter.
This is a city all right. I stand a while at the gate to take it in. In a new place, it's always a good idea to watch and listen at first. But enough of that. I feel I could remain standing here and sensing the mood for a long time, but I don't want to try your patience so early in my tale. Apart from which, it's almost 4 o'clock, and I don't know the jarl's office hours. So I hurry towards the palace.
The first house to my right it a weapons and armor shop. The blacksmith working outside is a woman. Her name is Adrianne Avenicci. Watching her work, I realize I can also do smithing. Just the basics, nothing like she is doing. Don't ask me where I learned, but it's coming back to me now.
Hearing that I'm headed for the palace, Adrianne asks me to bring a sword she has recently made for the jarl to her father who is the jarl's steward – meaning, his right-hand man who supervises all administrative affairs in the hold. Adrianne is nice and very interesting to talk to, but I really must get going.
The main street leads to the marketplace. A joyful young man introduces himself as Jon and welcomes me to Hviterun. I'm unsure what to make of him, so I just thank him noncommittally and hurry on. When I stop briefly to look at the wares on the market stalls, a woman about my age asks me if I'm an adventurer. I reply I am, sort of. She introduces herself as Ysolda and wonders if I have a Mammoth Tusk on me by any chance, or if I could get her one. I say I don't have any and promise to bring her one, should I find some. Ysolda smiles happily and thanks me.
Heimskr is a priest to a god called Talos.
Before I have reached the palace, a courier stops me and says he has a letter for me. For me? Is he joking? No, he isn't. Someone named Mandyn Hlaalu informs me he really needs my help and would I mind returning to Riverwood and meeting him at the inn?
They must be badly short of people capable of getting things done here, if a complete nobody like myself is looked upon like some kind of a mighty achiever. Got to remember to keep a low profile, so I won't attract undue attention of some bored roughneck looking for worthy adversaries. One would think being a woman should help me be taken not too seriously, but you never know.
"Taken not too seriously"... Did I have to think that? I have made it all the way around the forest, down the hill, around the city walls, through the gate, up another hill and into the Hviterun palace (called Dragonsreach, in case you're interested), and in the last ten meters before the jarl's throne my progress is blocked by a premenstrual gray-faced amazon with a sword, her red eyes filled with bloodthirst. An elf. The jarl's housecarl (meaning chief bodyguard). Can't stand the sight of another woman near your master, what? She demands that I tell her whatever I wanted to tell the jarl. I'd rather leave and come back when I'm strong enough to thoroughly change her outer appearance, as well as her manners. Fortunately, the jarl himself notices the commotion and orders her to let me pass. Irileth is her name. I'll remember it well.
Jarl Balgruuf is great. Maybe a tiny little bit too old for my taste, but he irradiates wisdom and confidence. The people I have talked to seem to hold him in esteem too. Although, come to think of it, Adrianne the smithess told me something a little strange earlier: "Most folk [in Hviterun] don't go hungry, if they're willing to work hard." Meaning, some people go hungry even though they're willing to work hard? That doesn't sound good.
Yes, I know I have the tendency to digress too much. I'm sorry. Back to the present moment. After reading Alvor's letter, the jarl orders Irileth to send some guards to Riverwood. She has calmed down completely and is a matter-of-factly soldier now, disciplined and sensible. Maybe I was too harsh in criticizing her. After all, I can't know what kind of trouble they may be having here. Well, whatever. Jarl Balgruuf thanks me profusely for taking the trouble to come and deliver the news, and tells me to follow him because he has another task I might be suitable for. It feels kind of inappropriate to say that things are getting too big for me. So I just walk silently behind him. It won't hurt to hear him out... I hope.
Well, turns out the court wizard Farengar, a haughtyish but not, I believe, entirely unkind man, needs an important object named Dragonstone (a stone tablet, actually), which he believes to be hidden in a dangerous place none other than Bleak Falls Barrow.
"We need it quickly, before it's too late," he says. He also says to the jarl: "You seem to have found me an able assistant." Why would he say something like that about someone he first saw only a few minutes ago? It looks a lot like he's not saying it for the first time, and I'm guessing it's not really that awfully urgent either.
This reminds me of Mr. Hlaalu's letter I mentioned to you earlier. He wrote he has heard about my great capabilities and such, but it rather sounded like he was looking for a clueless optimist to get in danger on his behalf. It makes sense, doesn't it? He needs only one to succeed in getting him what he wants, and it matters little how many get killed trying. Might be the same thing with this Farengar dude. But it does matter a lot to me if I get killed. Meaning, I'm going to Bleak Falls Barrow all right, especially now that I have two things to retrieve from there, but I'll do it when I'm ready. Never mind how urgent someone says it is. My butt is more important to me than any of anyone else's concerns.
On the other hand, it's possible that I have indeed achieved something great in the past and I just can't remember because of my amnesia. Someone magically talented might, however, sense it. If so, those mysterious questgivers know more about me than I know myself, and that is a little worrisome.
Hopefully, I'll find out more about my past someday, but all I can do right now is to find the steward Proventus Avenicci and give him the sword Adrianne wanted delivered. He mentions the jarl wants a group of bandits destroyed at Halted Stream Camp not far from the city in the northwest, and there's a monetary reward.
Then I leave the palace and check out Jorrvaskr. Not that I'm interested in taking part in their racket, but I've heard people talk about three orphan sisters living there who, in spite of their tender age and rather unthreatening looks, are great fighters. Their attitude is reputed to be not so tender, but what matters to me is that they're said to be eager to go on an adventure with someone. Regular sellswords cost a lot of money, but those three girls are just despondent because no one is taking them seriously.
I really need all the help I can get. Fighting half a dozen bandits or an unknown number of some ghostly beings is clearly over my head. Yet I have to go into dangerous places and do something, or I'll never achieve anything. Should those girls actually exist, I'll take the ugliest one with me and find out what she can do. As for her (possible) attitude, I've been a teenage girl myself.
Jorrvaskr is a really nice place, but the people aren't too prepossessing.
The teens are there all right – Mikki, Vera and Heidi. My information was correct – they can't wait to get some action and they insist they're old and responsible enough to be relied on as followers.
I take Heidi. I give her an armor and find out she has a very powerful bow. I keep it for myself and give her a weaker one I've been using so far. I exchange a few words with several of the Companions, but they seem to be just pointless brutes, even the women. Only Aela, one of those with whom I killed that giant earlier today is different. She seems really nice. I hope I can have a longer chat with her someday.
After a brief visit to a nearby temple, I walk back in the direction of the city gate and enter one of the inns, The Drunken Husband. No, that's not how it was called. Well, never mind that. The important thing is, there's a sellsword there, a cool-looking elven woman Jenassa. She demands 500 septims. As luck would have it, I had gathered enough sellable loot between Helgen and Hviterun, so after selling it all I can actually afford her. Now, with two followers, I feel confident enough to take a chance with that Halted Stream Camp. To get my feet wet, so to speak. We'll do it tomorrow, and if we're successful, we'll go to that scary and spooky Bleak Falls Barrow next.
But right now it's a few minutes past midnight and I'm tired. The other inn within the city walls, The Bannered Mare, offers rooms for rent. That's where I'm headed. Heidi and Jenassa have places to sleep in this city, so I won't have to pay for their lodging, fortunately. After quickly checking out Jenassa's gear and reequipping her, I dismiss my followers for tonight and tell them to report to me in the morning.
In spite of the late hour, The Bannered Mare is bustling with activity. The locals of both sexes are bantering back and forth or simply sitting and drinking. New people keep coming in. Needless to say, I don't know anyone here and the loud merry atmosphere is a little intimidating, especially since I've been picking up vibes of some people in Hviterun disliking some other people, but I can't understand yet what it's about, so I'm worried about saying something wrong or possibly even being seen with people I shouldn't be seen with.
So I'm most relieved when Ysolda walks in. We find a table in a (relatively) quiet corner and she tells me about a super rich High Elf called Pelin Varlais who lives in a castle southwest from here and has an ancestral sword stolen from him recently and is very eager to get it back.
I ask Ysolda what she does and she says she's trading with the Khajiit merchants, the very same I met earlier today. She's striving to become a serious trader and maybe even buy herself an inn one day. We seem to share a fascination for Khajiits which Ysolda tells me is far from common among the people of Skyrim.
But it's gotten really very late now, so my new friend excuses herself and goes home. It's decidedly time for me to go to sleep as well. As I head for my room, though, a woman named Engrid grabs my sleeve and insists that I stay away from that elf and his sword, because it's far too dangerous. My brain is no longer working, so I basically just nod to everything she says. It's past 2 when I can finally lie down on that lovely soft bed.
next awakening
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