I crossed the border from High Rock into Skyrim in the hopes of finding some work and maybe a little bit of adventure. Being a merchant back home wasn't working out, so I thought perhaps a change of scenery would help. And what better place to find my fortune than Skyrim? My parents often told me tales of my ancestors who lived among the Nords of Skyrim and fought with them to liberate Markath. And I heard of how my people were driven from their homes in The Reach by Ulfric Stormcloak.
Not long after I crossed the border, I happened upon a skirmish between two a group of armed Nords and some Imperial soldiers. Before I could decide where to run, I was knocked out. I awoke in a carriage among some of those very same Nord soldiers and Ulfric Stormcloak himself. We were being brought to Helgen. We were going to meet the executioner's blade. As a Nord named Ralof droned on to me and, to be honest, I can't remember what he said because of the horse thief in our carriage that had abandoned all dignity and started freaking out.
The Imperials couldn't find me on their list, and, as much as I would have liked to have told them that they had made a mistake in associating me with the Stormcloak rebels, I knew that it wouldn't do me any good. And escape was not an option, as evidenced by how quickly they dispatched the horse thief when he tried to run. No, I was going to die due to an administrative mistake and there was nothing I could do about it. So much for fortune and adventure. I just hoped that my remains would make it back to Mom and Dad so that they wouldn't have to wonder what happened to me.
It was when my head was on the block that The Divines stepped in and changed my fate. Their intervention came in the form of a dragon, of all things! If I hadn't seen it myself, I would not have believed it, but as my head was on the block, a dragon swooped down and attacked Helgen. His powerful shout tossed everyone there around like papers in the wind, giving the prisoners a chance to escape. I followed Ralof into a tower and then into Helgen Keep. Casualties from the dragon attack were heavy for both the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. This afforded me the opportunity to pick up a good amount of gear . After all, they wouldn't be needing it any longer. I donned some Imperial Armor and took an iron sword into my hands. Despite my Breton heritage, I had always been more comfortable fighting with a blade than I had been casting flames.
Ralof and I fought our way through a number of Imperial soldiers as we ran through Helgen Keep. I more than paid them back for trying to execute me. With the help of Ralof, we escaped Helgen and I made my way to Riverwood. As I arrived, an old woman was shouting about having seen a dragon and was immediately called crazy for doing so. Ralof had asked me to talk to his sister, Gerdur, in Riverwood. She was very helpful, but she wanted me to go to Whiterun to tell the Jarl about the dragon. No way. I don't want to risk getting called crazy and spending the rest of my life locked up in a tower because of it.
Instead, I sold the gear I had looted to the local trader, bought some respectable clothing and even learned a little bit about crafting weapons and armor from the local smithy. I think I might just have a good thing going here in Riverwood, so I think I'm going to stick around for a while, maybe mine some ore and work on my smithing while I decide what my next move will be.
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| Here I Am In Riverwood |
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