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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
4-202-03-31 06:09
Sleeping Giant Inn, Riverwood, Whiterun, Skyrim
We are having a beautiful morning with some clouds in the sky that disperse slowly. It's not very warm, but after Bruma this feels like Summerset.
We walk slowly along the Hviterun road, looking for traces of something bad having happened. Indeed, we soon discover quite distinct signs of it – sitting on the roadside is a very banged-up man.
He calls himself Hafgrim Swiftfoot. We enquire what has happened to him and he tells us to scram. Get real, mate, you're bleeding to death here and are telling us to just leave you? I keep asking questions, and with his consciousness coming and going he's too weak to resist. We learn that he was ambushed by bandits on the Helgen–Ivarsted road and his wares were taken and he was kept prisoner, but recently he succeeded in escaping and headed for Eagle's Knob (west-northwest of Blackmoor, remember?), but then his legs wouldn't carry him any further. Wait, Soldir told us you were transporting something from Riverwood. He shakes his head slightly and then his eyes close. I have to do a little healing on him, because I can't tell how long he's been lying here and when he's going to kick the bucket, and he can't do that, because I haven't yet found out what he was transporting.
It's one hell of a task, but this man's idiotically stubborn attitude has irritated me to the point where I just won't leave him alone. I keep bombarding him with a variety of questions and indeed go as far as stripping naked along with Lydia and Jordis briefly and bouncing my breasts in front of his eyes. (Jenassa remains fully dressed and keeping watch. I may be a little stubborn, but I'm not reckless.) Using everything I can think of (strictly non-contact, though – he's incredibly dirty), I succeed in making him reveal that he was transporting candles. He won't tell me what kind of candles they were – it would be too dangerous for him as well as for us if we got to know, he says. Hovewer, we know the direction he was coming from, so we can try and find those bandits.
Hafgrim looks like he's going to pass out again, and, quite frankly, so am I because of his smell. In spite of that, I still search his person and find a book he must have taken with him before he escaped. It describes thoroughly the layout of some system of caves above an ancient Dwemer ruin. To my astonishment, I notice it mention New South Road – that underground ghosttown with an enormous mine we visited a few months ago.
Too weak to resist, Hafgrim mumbles that we can't just go in and kill those bandits. We have to be clever and tell them we'd like to join, and then over time we might be able to find out where the candles are being kept.
Right. Now, near death as he may be, I'm not going to beat that jerk into accepting our help. So I just leave him a couple of health potions in case he should change his mind about sitting on the roadside and feeling awful. As for Hafgrim's warning not to try to run in and kill all the bandits, I intend to do just that. I don't care much about those stupid candles nor about this lunatic and his equally moronic boss.
Yeah, enough of this. I'll give this matter some thought (maybe), but right now we proceed towards Hviterun. We say hello to Pelagio's wife Nimriel working on their cabbage field we run past (she doesn't seem to appreciate being visited by adventurers, at least not now), and then spend some time socializing with the Khajiits of Ri'saad's caravan who have set up camp at their usual spot in the southwestern suburb.
The city is a delight. Adrianne is at work at her smithy, a little girl is running in the distance (too far to see who). I have rarely in my life felt so happy as I'm feeling right now.
I know what we are going to do. We will go to my house and dress up in beautiful clothes from Cyrodiil. Lucia is allowed to witness our dressing and assist us with her opinions. Actually, we have tried those things on a few times previously, so we're not spending too much time hesitating today. We have three very fine nobility dresses adorned with fur and jewels. I'm letting my followers have them. I'll wear a blue dress that is simpler, yet very beautiful.
Footwear is still a major problem. There simply aren't any really beautiful shoes available anywhere, not even in Summerset. (Right, I already told you that yesterday. I'm sorry.)
I have brought a number of mostly Ayleid items back from Cyrodiil. I leave a few of them in my house, including some vases and a very stylish Bruma guardsmen's shield. Then we walk to the palace, taking a detour past The Drunken Huntsman.
[series of 4 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then press the right arrow to see the next picture etc.; press Esc to return to the text]
Along the way, I hand out a part of those beautiful coins called Mala as gifts to pretty much everyone we meet. I think I'll bring the rest of the Ayleid vases and arrows and stuff to Nuri in Falkert. He collects Ayleid artifacts.
At the temple, I ask the priestess Danica how Cairine of Markarth is doing. Danica is convinced she'll be all right. Already she can walk around carefully in the temple once or twice a day. But she'll need to restore her strength. In fact, she is sleeping right now, but there's every chance I'll be able to talk to her soon.
In the palace I'm greeted with weirdly exaggerated enthusiasm by my past followers. Before I get a chance to ask if they had thought I had left for good or something, Irileth approaches and asks me to come and have a word with the jarl.
Jarl Balgruuf informs me a messenger came to the city the day before yesterday with the news that my group had been taken prisoner by the thalmors in Bruma. Therefore, he can't stress enough how relieved he is to see me and my followers alive and well. However, this rumor is certainly spreading all across Skyrim even as we speak, so it's vital that I take a tour around Skyrim and show myself in various places.
That's just about the last thing I needed. I was so looking forward to spending some time in Hviterun. But of course I see the gravity of this matter. Lucia is sensible enough to understand, but it's still very sad.
Come on, girls. Time to change into our armors again.
For some time now, I've been wanting to visit the Orc villages Dushnikh Yal in the southwest and Mor Khazgur in the northwest to get some training. Now I have an ideal excuse for doing that. We'll go to Blackmoor first, then to the house of that secretive old man with a beard, and from there proceed to the southwest and from there to Markarth and up to the north, then to Winterhold and from there to Windhelm. Along the way, we'll be taking care of a number of minor assignments. From Windhelm, I had actually planned on proceeding to Solstheim. Haven't been there for some time. We'll see. I'll have plenty of time to think about it.
Just north of the eastern suburb, we have to kill a really beautiful orange dragon,
Then we run across the scenic Whiterun plains to Blackmoor. Everything seems to be fine there. Leaving for Eagle's Knob, we are attacked by well-hidden bandits just outside Blackmoor. They make the impression they've been sitting there preying on people leaving the town.
Halfway to Eagle's Knob.
That weird old man Soldir encourages us to go and help finding those candles. He mentions one very curious thing: a caseful of those candles could destroy a whole town. Now, if you remember, Hafgrim told us earlier that it would be very dangerous for us to know about them. I thought it's because they are connected to something highly secret. But now we know that the candles are dangerous in their own right, and a caseful of them could destroy a town, meaning just one or two couldn't.
When we've exited the house, Jordis says a seaman once told her about some material in some faraway country that, when set on fire, can cause an explosion, similar to those explosion spells advanced mages can cast, except that it doesn't require magic and it's even more powerful. What if those "candles" are candle-shaped sticks of explosive substance, possibly with a wick inside them, so you can set a "candle" on fire and, like, throw it at the enemy?
That is indeed a hypothesis that would explain everything. Nevertheless, I'm not sure I want us to get involved in an adventure with those rather unlikeable people.
Right now, at any rate, we're running to Roriksted. The weather is still nice. We do just a little shopping and head for Granite Hall. Halfway there, we end up sitting and chatting with the soldiers in Fort Masser so long that we arrive in Granite Hall after half past 7 in the evening. Night is falling and there's definititely no point proceeding further southwest today.
Even the market has already closed.
We walk around and talk to people and such. I step into the Silver-Blood Mansion to ask them if they know anything about the whereabouts of the Markarth Silver-Boods. They insist they don't know and don't want to know. I'm rather having the feeling they don't want to get in trouble. But it would hardly be practical to torture them to find out if they really don't know anything. So I just take my leave and find my boyfriend Mojarik. We go to the inn. He turns out very dirty. What is this, a yearly Soap-Shunning Holiday? When I suggest he have a bath first, he just grabs me, tears my clothes off and, well, takes me – luckily at least in a position where my nose is facing away from him.
next awakening
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