Deflorator's game, 17 Last Seed (Helgen–Riverwood)

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SPOILER INFO
This unfinished story follows closely my actions in an actual game, so it's inevitably a spoiler.
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The author has chosen to remove the text of this unfinished game report, because he is no longer happy with it.




*  *  *  *  *

Are you kidding, Alvor? What kind of a man wouldn't like Elisif?

next chapter

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (74) Not the Kind of Men I Need

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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






4-201-10-30 04:25
Dead Man's Drink, Falkert, Falkreath, Skyrim


It's much too early for the shops. Should I make love to Lydia while waiting? Or should we just go to Aurora?

On the one hand, I have a lot of stuff to sell, so I ought to make use of all the merchants I can find – that is, wait for the shops in Falkert to open. On the other hand, I have so much money that I really shouldn't sweat the loot. That's why we'd better travel to Aurora right away. Hopefully I can find my boyfriend Lorm and make love to him. Maybe this is a good time to hire him as my follower, so I'd have a man at hand anytime I needed one? I could let Jordis go. Or should I keep Jordis and let Jenassa go? Jenassa is a bit too patronizing at times while Jordis is a little too sullen.

After giving it some more thought, I decide that first we'll go to Sunderstone Gorge northwest of Northkeep to find the priest Runil's journal. It shouldn't take long and by the time we'll be done, the shops in nearby settlements will be open for sure.

In light rain, we run eventlessly to Northkeep and then further northwest to the western side of a mountain range that goes from south to north. Sunderstone Gorge is not hard to find. Technically the sun has risen by the time we reach the cave opening, but it's cloudy and raining heavily.

We enter the cave and explore a system of passages and caverns.

There are mages and a few walking skeletons and one skeever. I bungle this mission rather badly. At one point, I manage to end up in a melee fight against two skeletons in a place too narrow for my followers to help me. In another place, I sense from afar an enemy who is lying down, apparently asleep. I sneak closer most carefully, forgetting to use Sense of Smell  again. In the less-than-perfect light, I see two other mages when I'm only a few meters away from them. They are standing and very much awake. Needless to say, they see me too, and while we're busy fighting them, the sleeper wakes up and joins the fight. There's a fourth one who had also been sleeping. I see her fall down from something cast by a follower of mine, so I focus on taking out the other three. When that is done, I sigh with relief and begin to look around. Suddenly I notice I'm taking damage again. That fourth mage is casting fire spells at me. I realize she was not dead, merely paralyzed. Inadmissible laxness on my part!

This experience confirms the suspicion I've been having – paralyzing is not a good idea. Recently, I gave Lydia a Staff of Paralysis , just for experiment's sake. I'd better give her one of the frost damage staffs again. Paralyzing makes the enemy completely incapable to fight, but only for a short time. Paralyzed enemies are easy to overlook when you're not careful, as well as much harder to hit from a distance compared to when they're standing upright.

This is the room. Those white splotches are traces of the magic effect called  Ice Storm created by Jenassa and Jordis's staffs.
Not a very good angle, I admit, but I was too upset after that messy battle to think about taking a good picture.

In addition to all the above, I keep walking into traps throughout the mission, and after we've killed all the enemies, we spend considerable time looking for a way to their storage room where Runil's journal is.

In the back, up the stairs on the right, is a wall with a dragon shout. (See the next picture.)

The only upside is that the enemies were not too strong. Had I come here a month ago, I would've become cat food.

We didn't kill those.

After I've acquired the dragon shout from the wall, we go to sell stuff in Northkeep, Aurora and Little Vivec.

Northkeep

We stop at the Half-Moon Mill to say hello to Hert. I mention the strange incident in Nothkeep three days ago when two Imperial soldiers attacked the town guards and were killed.

Hert has heard it told that an imp got very drunk at the inn some time earlier, harassed a woman and got beaten up by the locals. Three days ago, he returned with four fellow soldier to take revenge, but the guards cut him and one of his friends down and the others escaped.

Good gracious! No wonder nobody in the town wanted to tell me about it.

We thank Hert for the gossip and move on.

Little Vivec (left) and Aurora (right)

They shopkeepers have much too little money. The difficulty of getting rid of loot is becoming a real annoyance. Then again, as I pointed out earlier (and keep forgetting, as shopping is kind of in my blood), I don't need so much money anyway. So I'd better learn to not worry about it. What annoys me more is that I can't find Lorm in Aurora. People tell me he's alive and well, just traveling somewhere. This is the second time he's not there. What's worse, I find out he has a house of his own in the village. Why then did we make love at the inn? Why didn't he invite me to his house? Does he have a woman? I don't dare ask the villagers. I'm beginning to doubt if I even want Lorm so badly.

To put him out of my mind, I go to nearby Little Vivec to check out that playboy twin Taren. He turns out to be a boring jerk, as well as completely uninterested in me. I hate him.

We'll now go to Falkert and give Runil his journal. Then I'll have wrapped up everything in this region and won't need to return anytime soon. We'll head east and probably spend the night in the ruins of Helgen. Tomorrow we'll reach Ivarsted and hopefully High Hrothgar.

I've told you the mountains around High Hrothgar (red dot) are impossible to climb
except from the direction of Ivarsted. If you're coming from the west, you have to either
take the Hviterun – Valtheim Towers – Fort Amol – Darkwater highway (yellow arrow)
or the pass through the mountains east of Helgen (green arrows). The latter is where we'll be going right now.

The weather is joyless – without rain, but cloudy. I sell what I can in Falkert and give Runil his diary. I must say he looks ghastly. I mean, not because of the diary. He's just very old. But I don't suppose there's anything that can be done about it.

Now we run east. That place with a wooden bridge over the road has been occupied by new bandits, but only two of them, so they aren't able to give us any trouble. We also run into bandits in one of those "abandoned" bandit camps. It's not dark yet by the time we reach Helgen.

It's a sorry sight. I mean, it was just as sorry the last time we were here on our way from Orphan Rock to Falkert, but this time it really strikes home, those destroyed houses, heaps of charred logs, an odd household item lying about here and there.

The ruins essentially divide the village in two parts, and getting from one side to another is very difficult. That's why we need a long time to kill all the bandits (we have to, because they wouldn't let us sleep in peace) and find intact beds.

On the girls' insistence, we also take a look inside the citadel, or what's left of it.

I believe this is the room where Hadvar untied my hands.

We can hear voices of bandits that seem to be quite near. Nevertheless, I give my followers a sign and we exit. We'll sleep outside. No point killing the bandits in the citadel. They haven't done us anything. Or maybe I'm simply scared to be in there.

We lie down on beds in one of the less than totally ruined houses.

This setting brings my thoughts to how it all started. Me and my followers seem to be talking about men and shopping most of the time (as well as about missions at hand), but let's switch to politics for a change. How do we feel about the war?

Lydia thinks Skyrim ought to be ruled by Nords and not by Imperials or High Elves, just like, for instance, Morrowind should be ruled by the Dark Elves and not by the Nords. Therefore she hopes the Stormcloaks will win. Disapproving their enmity towards our elven population, she still holds thalmor terror in a Nord country for a much bigger evil.

Jenassa generally favors one world government that would establish law and order, so people could travel safely wherever they liked. Less power for the local rulers means both less incentive and opportunity for petty local wars like our civil war. That's why she's on the Imperials' side. It's not like they like the thalmors' religion police, she points out. As soon as the Empire will have had some time to recover from the war, they'll be bound to kick the thalmors out at the first opportunity.

Jordis is convinced that it's in Skyrim's best interest, militarily and economically, to be a part of the Empire. Apart from which, it's high time for the Nords to take their Empire back from the Imperials. After all, the Empire was established by a Nord, so why should the Imperials rule it in the first place?

For me, the biggest evil are the thalmors. Many Dark Elves like to call the Stormcloaks racist, but they're cosmopolitans compared to the High Elves whose haughty supremacist insolence is mind-boggling. Therefore I'd like the Aldmeri Dominion destroyed and the High Elves taught some manners. At the same time, I completely disapprove the Stormcloaks' xenophobic fanaticism as well as Ulfric Stormcloak's arrogance, cruelty and grossly irresponsible behavior. Skyrim needs the Empire to keep the High Elves at bay, that I am certain of. We can't afford any Morrowind-style petty bickering among ourselves. By killing Torygg and starting a war he can't win, the brat Ulfric is endangering the whole humankind.

The morale of all this is that in spite of everything, Lydia, Jenassa, Jordis and I are still best friends and that is more important than all the politics in the world.

Good night!



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (1) Strange Fightfellows

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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 inevitably reveals a lot about the game.
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4-201-08-17 08:00
somewhere in Tamriel


Good morning, I guess. I hope yours is better than mine. Having opened my eyes, I find myself sitting in a horse cart which is moving along a country road. My hands are bound (but my feet aren't) and there are three men sitting in the same cart. I notice with relief that their hands are bound as well.

While my fellow "passengers" are exchanging information as to who is from where, I'm wondering if I could get my wrists out of these ropes. Probably not, and I kind of guess that even if I succeeded in freeing my hands, the soldiers who are following our cart on horseback would notice it and tie me up again.

The men in the cart ask me some questions and I give them laconic answers, because I don't know anything about who they are and what they might be up to. I pretend to be not fully awake yet and they leave me alone, engaging in some political discussion which I find difficult to follow. I'm afraid to ask them if they know where we are being taken to and by whom and for what purpose. I'd better keep quiet and use the forced wait to introduce myself to you. I'm a Breton woman. My name is Laura. I'm unsure about my age, but I feel like early 20's most of the time. So let's make it 22 if it suits you. I have blue eyes and long black hair. I like to think I'm beautiful. For the time being, you'll have to take my word for it, as it'll be a while before I can show you pictures of myself. You'll understand my situation. Getting out of this predicament is my top priority at the moment.

I hope I'm not entirely hopeless as a fighter, but with tied wrists, not even the best fighter in the world would have a chance alone against those armed guards. I must rely on my co-prisoners having a plan of some kind. I mean, I wouldn't mind a divine intervention or sudden awakening from a nightmare, but let's remain realistic.

That said, I do have an ethereal being of sorts who guides me and watches over me. My higher self. I am not allowed to say his real name (yes, my higher self is male), so he'll be Bardslayer to you. I'm not sure where the nickname comes from. Maybe he doesn't like people who sing a lot. But what I was getting at is that while I have vague memories of many places, people and events, I don't really know what this particular location is called and how I got here. There are things I know (such as the human language, evidently) and there are things I know I have experienced sometime, somewhere, but I can't remember anything specific. Everything that's happened to me before my waking up a few minutes ago is a complete blank. The man Ralof in this cart says I was trying to cross the border. Guess I was then. Lokir, another man in the cart, mentioned a while ago that the region where we are is called Skyrim. Sure, why not. Had he said it's called Viridilignia, I would've had no reason to doubt him.

Just so you don't get the wrong idea of me, my higher self is nothing like a voice in my head. Even though I occasionally say that Bardslayer "told" me this or that, it's just a figure of speech. I have never spoken to him. I don't even know if he has a voice. But during my sleep he often sends me dreams about things, including some I can impossibly have ever experienced for real. Such as being a Khajiit man. That was rather weird. Also, Bardslayer occasionally lets me know what is the right thing to do. Warns me of dangers. I don't know how. I would just suddenly get a hunch that something terrible would happen if I were to proceed with what I'm about to do.

Guess things are coming back to me slowly. I'm not sure exactly what Bardslayer is, though. He can achieve things that are physically or magically impossible, but he can't be a god, nor a manifestation of a god. He's not as powerful as gods are. But it's good enough for me. Speaking of gods, Lokir just mentioned two goddesses, Mara and Dibella. Those names sound distinctly familiar. I have memories of praying to them occasionally, but I rather think it's just, you know, trying to stay on the good side of everyone mighty. Generally, I trust Bardslayer to guard me.

I got carried away, sorry. Let us return to the present moment and sum up the situation. I am lost in an unknown world which I somehow know to be called Tamriel. Unknown as it may be, it still looks quite... you know... right. Believable. World-like. Spruce trees, snow here and there, chilly weather but not too uncomfortably cold... If we were to reason logically (my higher self likes logic, which is of course natural for a male), I must have been born and raised in a place quite similar to this one, or maybe a little warmer. Mind you, that's just a speculation. I don't actually remember. Not a thing.

There's another cart ahead of us, with four more prisoners in it. They look quite soldierlike. So do two of the men in my cart – Ralof and Ulfric. Ralof has the appearance of an ordinary soldier, but Ulfric seems to be a big noise. He's so important that they have bound his mouth as well. I wonder what it is that's so secret that we the other prisoners aren't allowed to hear it. The third guy Lokir, as I have learned by now, is a horse-thief. He looks very haggard. Probably needed to steal that horse to save himself from starvation. What I don't quite understand is what am I doing in this lot. I observe the men's faces as well as I can without being conspicuous. None of them rings a bell. I don't dare talk to them, because I might make myself suspicious by not knowing something I'm supposed to know. Fortunately, none of the men pays any special attention to me. They look downcast, which is understandable. They have mentioned that we are prisoners of the "Imperials". I take it to mean that Ulfric and Ralof have been rebelling against an empire which this location is a part of. And poor Lokir just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As, I suppose, did poor Laura.

The cart is arriving in a village. There are people in front of their houses looking at us. One-storey wooden houses. A medium-sized peasant community like any other. Except that not every farming village has a high defense wall and massive gates.

The sun is coming out now. Time seems to drag on like syrup. Eventually we arrive at a, um, scaffold? The thing where criminals have their heads chopped off. Is this real? Guys, are we going to do something or will we just let ourselves be slaughtered like cattle? The way Ralof's been talking, he seems to intend to do just that.

We're ordered off the cart. There's a man with a sheet of paper in his hand. Hadvar is his name. Not the prettiest man around here, but I kind of feel his heart is in the right place. Maybe I could persuade him to let me go if it wasn't for that small woman in a shining iron-y armor who acts like she's the boss here. I guess that's because she is. No, that's an even shorter man they call General Tullius. But the woman is determined to make it clear to everyone who the second-in-command is. She's armored like a small fortress and talks to (or rather barks at) everyone with such hostility as if someone had just stolen her favorite earrings. "Captain" they call her. I'll call her "metal bitch".

"Who are you?" I hear the man's question. Can't you ask something simpler? Laura is the name and that's really all I can tell them. I try to explain I don't even know any of the other prisoners, but I can see they're not convinced. Still, the Important Ones are a little puzzled and look at each other. They're like: shall we execute her with the others? Yeah, let's, why not?

I think it's a rotten idea, but nobody is interested in my opinion. Too bad for me.

So, in case it's not yet entirely clear to some of you, dear readers – we are supposed to walk to that chopping block one by one, and the executioner is going to... That's too horrible to even speak out loud. But it's happening right now. No, Lokir has a different idea. His hands still bound, he makes a dash for it. After maybe 40–50 meters, he falls down with arrows in his back. Maybe that's a better way to die?

The first man walks to the block. It's weird, but he seems impatient to get it over with and to go to some place called Sovngarde. That large axe cuts through his neck like butter. What was a walking, talking human being a few seconds ago is now a lump of lifeless flesh and blood. Why?

Now the metal bitch is telling me to walk to the block. I drag my feet. Is there a chance that the axe will fall off the handle? Whatever, just help me, somebody! I know it sounds like a cliche, but I really don't want to die. It's too soon. I feel like I haven't even properly lived.

Why does it have to happen? It's not right. I haven't done anything, have I? More precisely, I don't remember. [Chuckle.] I may have done lots of things, but is it right to execute someone who can't remember her crimes? There's no one to ask.

I get on my knees. The chopping block has blood all over it. Do I really have to touch it with my body? All right, all right, no need to push so roughly!

Is that all, Bardslayer? Is this where we part forever? Or shall I have a reincarnation? Will I remember more in my next life? Will I remember this?

He's not answering.

They didn't even have the decency to take away that horrible head. I look to the left to not have to see it. The executioner's armor looks really cool, actually. Then I see how something comes flying and lands on top of a citadel. Or should I say "a small tower"? A mini-tower? Well, you get the idea. That flying thing is a huge animal. Wait, I know it! The word's "dragon". They're called dragons. The metal bitch barks: "Sentries! What do you see?" A minute ago she acted like she owned the world. Now she suddenly doesn't know which way is up without someone telling her.

I hear a deafening noise, the ground shakes and everything in front of my eyes turns yellow for a moment. The big man with the axe turns away from me. He has righfully decided that he has more important concerns right now than chopping my head off. Bardslayer, did you do this?

"Hey, Breton, get up!" I believe to recognize Ralof's voice. "Come on, the gods won't give us another chance." Yeah, good idea. I get on my feet. Things aren't exactly easy with your hands tied, but I'll have to make the best of what I have. Said the camel with one hump. Camel? What camel?? Dammit, Laura, get serious! You absolutely have to get away from that bloody piece of stone. And into some cover, I suppose, as the dragon is spitting fire.

I run, climb, jump, run, dodge, turn, run... Lucky at least my hands are tied in the front and not behind my back. I'm seeing Hadvar now. He no longer has the list with names. He tells me to follow him. Doesn't seem to have my death on his mind anymore. He's rather worried about his own life. He runs fast and I struggle to keep up with him and not to fall and smash my dear little nose. Things flash by. Then there's Ralof again. He and Hadvar quickly exchange a few insults before going their separate ways, each one inviting me to go with him. A whole two guys ready to help me escape. Now we're talking!

I'm going with Hadvar. I mean, earlier in that horse-cart, Ralof was too accepting of getting executed soon. Not the kind of man a woman ought to hang around with. On second thought, Hadvar might deliver me to the authorities once we're out of here. Well, too late for that thought now. I've already followed him into that stone building. We are alone in a large room with some pieces of furniture.

Hadvar unties my hands. Gosh, that feels good. See, I was right about him! He likes me. I have to confess it's mutual. But let's hold that thought for the time being. I'll like him even more when we are as far away as possible from that oversized tinderbox beast.

Hadvar tells me to look around and grab some weapons and armor. Awesome. Ideas keep getting better. We find a simple sword and a light armor. Nice. I hate those heavy clunky things. That metal bitch – if someone had toppled her, would she have been able to stand up by herself, I wonder. Yes, yes, Hadvar, I know we have to move on. I'm almost done... in a moment.

A little tight up there, but I can live with that. Hope I can stay alive as well.

I feel clumsy with a sword, but I can't find a bow. I search everywhere. Too thoroughly, some may say. To tell you the truth, I need time to get over my recent shock. There are some beds. Is it all right if I sleep a little? Joking, Hadvar, joking! I could impossibly sleep here. Please wait, I'm good to go! I do want to come with you!

I run after him along dim stone corridors. I'm scared. I just remembered a dream I had one night not so long ago. I was in a swordfight together with a man against three or four enemies, and I got struck down, conscious but unable to move, watching my companion and the enemies exchanging blows furiously. I felt embittered by my inability to help him, afraid that someone might just walk up to me and kill me or something... But then the battle was suddenly over, and the man and I were running along an empty corridor, and a fierce animal appeared out of nowhere and tore me in pieces.

I'm sorry. It's this dungeon that is putting me into morose mood. I like a bright sunny day, and I like romantic darkness, but I hate crappy light indoors. Although it beats running between burning houses...

Hadvar stops. We can hear people talking. There's a round room, properly lighted for a change. A man and a woman. They're a little like us. But they don't like us. I mean, why else would the man raise that huge ugly sharp thing and run at me, yelling? Hey, do we have to do this? Yeah, seems we do. Too bad. You could have been happy together. Well, maybe not very happy, but it's so stupid to fight people when a dragon could bring this whole structure down on our heads any moment. I don't even know anything about that war of yours.

We kill. We run. Kill some more. Run some more. As far as I can tell, we have left the castle (or whatever it was) and are now moving along a system of caves looking for a way to the surface. I'm tired. Lucky at least I find some food and water. In the first room, there was only wine. This is assuredly neither the place nor the time for a lady to get drunk. There's a little problem with the water, though. It's in a creek, and the creek is guarded by half a dozen angry people with swords and things. Well, maybe they don't guard the creek as such. Maybe they're just in the habit of killing people they don't know well. Anyway, I forgot to mention that there are now three of us. One guy joined us a little while ago. It was in a torture chamber, but I have no time to tell you about it. They didn't torture anyone back there, but now some bastard is shooting arrows into my lovely body. Hadvar and the other guy whose name I don't even know are making a hell of a crash fighting someone across a small bridge, but two of the enemies are farther away shooting at us, mostly me. I don't have a bow, so I just do what I can – run to the archers as fast as I can, hit them with my sword as fast as I can (I'm getting the hang of it, you know!), then run away to heal myself, then run back when at full health to hit them some more. It's a long and crazy fight. A couple of the enemy swordfighters want to surrender, but my boys know no mercy, and I'm not going to stop them.

We kill them all. There's a smell of blood everywhere. Too much blood for one day. But I have a premonition that I'm going to have to get used to it. Hadvar urges me to hurry. The torturer's assistant is no longer there. Must have gotten killed. Maybe it's better that way. Traveling with two men I just met is scary enough without one of them being a torturer's assistant.

Hadvar and I run along a creek, then enter a passage. And run straight into utterly horrible spiders. Don't laugh! I'm not afraid of spiders like most women, but if they are as large as dogs and drop down onto my head, it's decidedly yucky.

Having killed the spiders, we move on. Then Hadvar shows me a sleeping bear and suggests we can get past it by sneaking. Anything you say. After a few more scary passages, we're out in the open. There's still daylight.

Now Hadvar is talking to me. He thanks me for helping him escape. We'd better split up and meet in Riverwood where his relatives live, he says. Just to the end of this road and then to the right along the river bank.

No, my dear fellow, we're not splitting up. I'm going to walk right behind you all the way to that Riverwood place or anywhere else you may be going that has houses and human beings and – if I'm allowed to make a humble request – no chopping blocks and no bloodthirsty captains.

You agree? I'm so glad you do. Before we hit the road, though, there's just one more thing I would like, Hadvar. You know... After everything we went through together today... Do I really have to spell it out for you? No, I can see I don't.

So, dear reader, if you would be kind enough to give us some privacy for maybe 20 or 30 minutes, please? Go grab yourself some food or something.

Thank you.

* * *

It's getting dark, but I can't help asking Hadvar questions about who were those imprisoned warriors (or Stormcloaks as they're properly called) and what is going on here. Strangely enough, I'm no longer afraid to show my ignorance. Finally we begin going in direction (I presume) of Riverwood. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to let Hadvar notice it. So I keep up with him bravely.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen. Must have flown home, wherever that may be. I hope he roasted the metal bitch. Forgive me if I'm boring you talking about her, but I just can't stand people who order to have my head chopped off.

I wonder if Ralof got away. Hope he doesn't think of me as his enemy just because I went with Hadvar.

Lokir... rest in peace. Stealing horses is a bad thing to do, but, you know, one feels kind of close to someone with whom one's been sentenced to death together. Come to think of it, had he waited instead of running away, he might be alive now.

Yes, I know this armor has room for improvement. But it's stronger than the one I previously had.
And the weather has gotten a lot warmer than it was during our trip to Helgen.

My thoughts wander back to the dragon returning to his nest. What might baby dragons be like? A dragon nest must be of fireproof material, or the chicks would burn it to ashes. Or will they get fire glands only when they're older?

Don't mind me, I'm just thinking silly thoughts to stay awake.

Hadvar stops now. He shows me some stone obelisks on the roadside that can improve your ability to learn certain skills... if I'm understanding him correctly. I have to choose one. Choose one stone out of the three? Is it really necessary? All right, I'll take this one, for the so-called Thief skills. I don't like the sound of it, but I know from Bardslayer that this category is more useful than the other two. Among the Thief skills are Speech and Sneaking. And Archery. I like archery. Swordfighting is kind of unladylike. A decent girl is not supposed to hit people. Except that sometimes you have to. Shooting arrows at them from a distance makes me feel less bad about hurting them. It also makes it harder for them to hit me. Getting hit is what I really really hate.

Stop---blabbing---Laura--- Don't you see that Hadvar is waiting, impatient to move on?

All right, Hadvar. Lead on. I'm sleepy no longer, as I'm afraid we'll be attacked by some wild animals any moment. I don't know why, I just have this strange fear. But then we are already seeing the village. Um... Hadvar, can we stop here at the riverbank for a moment, out of the villagers' sight? I feel really dirty. I mean, not because of what we did outside Helgen. I mean dirty as in haven't washed... yes, yes, I'll hurry it up. No, you don't have to turn away, silly. I don't have anything more to hide from you, have I? In fact, you'd better keep an eye on me while I have no armor on. I'd feel really stupid if I'd get eaten by wolves now that we're so close to safety.

And then we're in Riverwood at last. Nice village, nice people. I mean, every village not on fire seems nice to me right now. I exchange a few hellos. This is the kind of place where you greet people on the street even when you don't know them. A man named Alvor welcomes Hadvar cordially and asks us to come in. He wants to know everything about the dragon. Look, can we talk about it in the morning? I can't keep my eyes open any longer. And while we're on this topic, that bed looks really cozy. May I crash here just this once?

I don't hear their reply. I fall onto the bed with a crash. One hell of a day this was!



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