[An overview on convention]

Normal text, unless specified by something like a camera shift, is first person, inner person description. Its coherence is dependent on the mental state of the 'person' in question.

Italic text is for 4th wall commentary, inter-person commentary (because I talk to myself) and for information that are picked up by the senses that a normal person would pick up but never really pay attention to.

Now then, onto the show!

{ === + === }

It's snowing, the ground is moving, everything's shaking, I'm cold, and I ache all over.

Am I missing a kidney?

Where am I?

It's dark.

Why is that, I wonder.

Things tend to be dark when your eyes are closed.

We open our eyes.

…Huh.

I can see the clear, blue sky, with wisps of white, fluffy clouds…and snow-covered pine trees…and a wagon…and dudes…

…oh dear.

Also, a friend!

"Hey, Jake." Oh wow I sound tired.

I'm a bit of a weedy fellow, whose way more interested in sitting in front of a computer all day, every day, forever and ever. Jake's more balanced in the sense that he actually does normal people stuff like exercise.

Though if I'm guessing right we're both going to do way more exercising in the foreseeable future.

"Hey, Ash." Jake's reply sounds about as tired as mine. "Do you see where we are right now?"

"I can see we're in a cart." I reply. I also see people wearing quilted armor with blue sashes on them. "And that we're in the company of some Stormcloaks."

"Ah shit." Jake gets it. "So we're in Skyrim now?"

I breathe in deep, and then immediately cough due to the crisp, cold air. It's delicious, but my lungs are too lazy to do their job right.

What a weird description.

"How do you think we got here?" He asks after looking around.

I also look around.

We're basically in Skyrim's opening scene, sitting in carts being driven by Imperials towards what is most likely Helgen. A variance is that there are more carts than the game shows (in our case, ten carts total) and that there is an escort of Imperial horsemen, armed with spears.

"You two aren't from around here, are you?" A nearby Stormcloak, a woman, by the sounds of it, asks us. "They're willing to capture anyone associated with us, it seems." She answers her own question.

…I am now noticing a stunning lack of a horse thief or a man with the cloak of all cloaks.

"Yo." I nudge Jake on the shoulder. "Where's the big guy with the cloak?" I ask. My eyes aren't so good and I don't have my glasses.

"Uh…" Jake looks around. I now remember that his eyes aren't that good either, except he wears contacts and I wear normal glasses. "Over there on your left, three carts down." He says.

Lessee…oh, I think my visions about the same as when I wear my glasses…so, in other words, clear sight for around twenty feet.

Anyways, three carts down…so the second cart from the front?

There are six people on that cart, going by the blond hair, one of them is probably Ralof. Big cloak man is likely Ulfric, and…

Oh, that's a pretty looking girl. Probably. I can't see from here. I'm making the judgment call because I can see a blurry shape that's almost radiant with snow-white hair and likely impressively perfect complexion, and it radiates a prettiness that's impossible to achieve without decent photoshop and or airbrushing.

What?

Erm. In any event. I nudge Jake again. "You see that?"

"Hell yeah." Jake smirks. "I'm willing to bet money that's the dergenbern."

Our brain has a mental fault before it catches up.

He's calling her the Dragonborn by using the dumbest coded talk possible.

Oh well. Play along. "Yeah, probably." I agree. "If I'm reading my genres right, there's like a 1000 percent chance we'll be travelling with her."

"Oh shit." Jake agrees with a small laugh. "Bro code right now, no banging the heroic albino."

Yeah…she's probably gonna be heroically albino, isn't she. "Done."

Watch her be a he.

That would just be real fuckin' neato.

The woman Stormcloak riding with us go "you two are strangely happy about being put to death." Which kind of sours the mood a little.

Also, I'm a little surprised that neither of us are freaking the fuck out.

…in retrospect, should we be? I mean, humans are still humans, snow is still snow, pine is still pine…yeah, Stormcloaks look weird, but…

Unseen to us, Jake's eyes are darting about every which way while his physical shape is seemingly as relaxed as he could be under the circumstances.

…mmm…still, even if I could freak, doing it now is probably not the best idea.

…

We sit in silence, listening to the imperial escorts talk serious shit about the Stormcloaks, until we reach the open gates of Helgen.

"Ooooh shit." Jake and I breathe at the same time.

Maybe it's because we kind of realized that we're both about to get our heads chopped or, or maybe we realized that Alduin's about to murder the fuck out of all of us…

…Or maybe the scale of Helgen has just thrown us for a loop.

In game, all cities are small to save space. Helgen is…not small. I mean, I'm looking at what is probably a town as large as the local terrain and food availability allows, and going by the amount of structures present we're looking at a community of at least two thousand people.

We're assuming based on the amount of houses we saw on our way down.

Yeah, the trail leading into Helgen slopes downwards and gives a good vantage of the town, at least in terms of estimating its size based on roof count. I think I saw a few hundred roofs at the very least, nevermind the keep, so Helgen is…

Well, it's gonna be dead as shit, but it's gonna be huge and dead as shit.

While we're busy marveling at Helgen and how dead we're gonna be, the train of Stormcloak prisoners enter the town through the main thoroughfare in somber parade. As we pass through…

I see this part. We pass…uh…what's his face. General Tullius. He doesn't care for any of us, but his gaze was definitely held by the wagon containing the Ulfric and the Dragonborn.

"A girl like that deserves a better end than this." Tullius mutters upon seeing the Dragonborn, but obviously we don't hear it.

I see him shake his head, so he's…feeling something about something. I can't read minds.

"Dude, we might actually just straight up die here." Jake notes…he mentions this because we're pulling up to the execution grounds…basically a glorified barren field in front of a stone tower, as expected.

I'm getting a little scared here, not gonna lie.

The carts come to a stop.

"Off the carts!" One Imperial Soldier yells, so we get off the carts.

"This is it." Stormcloak Soldier A (the lady from before) mutters. "Steel yourselves."

We're made to line up and get ticked off.

To my left, I can see Ralof and who is probably Hadvar exchange deathglares…and of course, the Dragonborn and the two of us are unregistered.

We are told to step forwards…

OH MY GOD

And a massive screen of text flashes in front of our eyes.

Going by Jake's wince, it happened to him too. Ow. The fuck.

"No lollygaggin'." The Imperial in charge of us snaps, and sends us forward with a kick to the shins.

We line up, and watch…and wait…

…and wait…

The horse thief makes his "you can't do this!" dash for freedom.

Instead of being kinda sorta shot in the back he gets run down by cavalry. Does that count as irony?

The priest of Mara makes her speech.

Still waiting…

…ok we're no longer waiting

Above us, a roar reverberates through the sky.

To the Imperial's credit (especially the Dumbass Imperial Captain's credit) the soldiers are immediately scanning the skies. Bow-armed Imperials come out, too…but nobody sees anything.

"We're not gonna see like, Thomas the Tank Engine come out of the sky, right?" Jake mutters as a means of lightening the mood.

I nod. "That would be amazing."

Sadly, it's not that amazing.

The bony, massive form of Alduin slams onto the stone tower and oh god that's fire

The Stormcloaks and Imperials scatter the fuck away as Alduin begins burning shit to the ground.

Fun fact: this be real life. The cobblestone path beneath our feet is melting under the effect of the breath attack and I can feel the fire coming into my lungs and it hurts like holy shit

Reality: the fire is melting the snow into water which is not doing favors to our traction. Plus it's hot, so as far as we're concerned the stones are melting.

I like my cold air back please

Some Stormcloaks cut us loose.

"Let's go!" Jake grabs my collar and yanks, and we get under way.

By which I mean, without any idea of where we're going (since the map of this place is so different from the game) we stumble around towards the Keep, the tallest building in town.

Alduin is still burning down the town around us, people are crying, shit is dying…it's just a horrible time.

Understatement of the year.

We arrive at the front of the Keep…and meet up with Hadvar and Ralof, and the Dragonborn.

Of course they dislike each other because civil war, and…huh. Looks like the girl's going with Hadvar.

I tap Jake's shoulder. "Which way are you going?"

"Ralof." Jake says immediately. "Meet up in the keep later?"

"Yeah."

We go with Hadvar.

…

The inside of the Keep is…uh, not that silent.

This is the real world, or something, so the world outside the wooden doors still exists rather than get offloaded to save memory.

Now that we have a moment to breathe…

Hadvar looks a little worse for the wear. His armor is singed in multiple places and he might have sprinted face-first into a wall of coal dust. He looks healthy otherwise, though.

The Dragonborn…is wearing Prisoner Rags, looks a little frazzled, but seems to be otherwise ok. You'd think that with the standout way she looked Alduin would have homed in on her.

Maybe he outsmarted himself. Like: no way the Dragonborn is as obvious as this.

Maybe.

Either way, now that he has the time, Hadvar takes a moment to collect himself, wipes his face with a rag, and then addresses us. "Look around and find yourselves some armor." He says then gestures to a weapons rack on the wall. "And get those swords, too."

'k.

We get ourselves moving.

While we're doing that…

Wow, our Dragonborn spends time on her appearance. She legit looks modded in. Shiny, snow white hair that goes down to her shoulders, skin so fair she'll probably blind someone if she goes naked, and…slight heterochromia?

Protagonist qualities: check, check, aaand check.

It's like green and blue-green, so only a half-check on that. I'm gonna bet she's a natural at combat, too.

In any case, we kind of stare at each other awkwardly.

"Here's a suit." Hadvar finds some Imperial Light Armor in the Warden's Chest and…kind of stops, because there are two of us and he only has one of those.

Side note: the armor looks like it fits both of us, except the front part might be tight for the girl.

She's very well endowed for how light-looking she is. "You'll need it more than me, probably." I say to our Dragonborn.

She kind of nods and then moves to Hadvar, who straps the armor onto her with an extremely uncomfortable look on his face. Might be because she bounced the whole way?

…how did she even get here without hurting herself? Large breasts tend to hurt during physical exercises when there's no bra around, right? And like she had to run the whole way here or be eaten by Alduin.

You do realize you're terrible at estimating bust sizes, right? You have literally never seen a woman naked in your presence.

Yeah, but if she's bouncing like someone broke a physics slider then I think she's probably on the larger side of things.

Stop exaggerating.

Can't help it.

"What are you smirking at?" Hadvar snaps at us, redfaced.

We have a poorly restrained shit-eating grin on our face while trying to judge the lady's bust size, and we're facing Hadvar, hence his discomfort. He's trying so hard to avoid inappropriate touching while finishing his work on her armor, which is also adorable and is contributing to our grin.

You would be getting right in there with no fear of an ass-kicking, huh?

Shush. "Oh no, nothing at all." I reply as innocently as I can manage and pick a sword from the racks on the wall.

Honest talk time: I'm not good at this shit and I don't start with Healing and Flames, so…yeah. This is gonna be rough. I have a little experience with heftier, two-handed swords, but it's far and away not enough to count in an actual fight.

With her armor equipped (if a little tight), the Dragonborn takes a sword from the wall as well.

She gives it a few test swings, and it looks like she at least has some handling experience when it comes to weapons. Figures.

Protagonist check!

Shush.

"Alright?" Hadvar asks after we give the swords some more swings. We nod. "Let's go then." He moves to the door leading deeper into the Keep.

While we're doing this, the noise outside has gradually lessened.

He opens the door and we head into the…well, a narrow, dimly lit hallway.

Per the game, we make a right turn and run almost instantly into a small group of Stormcloaks.

They're gathered in the…mustering area? It's the large round room without much furniture, just a small table pushed against the wall facing the main entrance (we're coming in through the iron bar side door). Either way, we avoid just barging in and hide.

"Alright, let's see if we can reason with them." Hadvar whispers, and then shows himself to the trio of soldiers who immediately draw weapons. "Now hold on there," he says soothingly. "We don't want any trouble, we just want to get out of here."

"Bullshit." Stormcloak Soldier A spat and advances with his axe.

"It was worth a shot." Hadvar sighs and draws his sword.

He then singlehandedly guts the three soldiers because none of them had anything resembling tactical foresight. Also Hadvar's really damn good with his sword.

I guess they were the stragglers in Ulfric's forces? Or else the unit he was captured with was not his personal bodyguards?

Either way, Hadvar fucks 'em over good and we proceed onwards.

We follow him silently until we hit the collapsed walkway.

Keep in mind we can feel the keep constantly shake above us, and dirt and rubble is constantly trickling down from the ceiling. It's…rough on the nerves, I'll say that much. I've never been the type to enjoy enclosed spaces with the possibility of no escape and this isn't exactly warming me up to the idea.

We continue for a bit until the ceiling collapses in the hallway.

Unlike the game where you just get a camera shake effect…the collapse knocks all of us on our asses and fill the air with choking dust.

Also FUCK ITS LOUD my ears are ringing.

For like the third time in an hour we cough our lungs out.

Oh lordy my ears

We get our hearing back after a minute.

Hadvar's the first to get back to his feet. "Good god." He spits out the rest of the dust in his mouth. "I'm glad it didn't come down on top of us. Are you two alright?"

"Yes." Dragonborn breathes…she has a very pretty voice too. As expected?

She's one special talent away from being a Mary Sue.

Being a Dragonborn doesn't count?

"I'll live." I get to my feet.

"Let's go through here. Not like we have much of a choice." Hadvar gestures to the door to the pantry/potion tutorial room.

So we do, and loot four healing pots. Also a roasted rabbit haunch. Never had rabbit before. Not sure how I feel about it.

Weird how you can eat at a time like this.

I can stress eat.

"Here." I give a potion to Hadvar. "You're going to need it more than us."

"Thank you." He says with a little bit of confusion, maybe because I have rabbit?

Also it's gone really fast. The rabbit haunch…I guess I was hungrier than I thought. Also it was tiny.

So anyways, healing pots. Hadvar has one, I have one, and Dovakiin has two. We then leave the room and come across…oh, that's unpleasant.

We come across the trio of Stormcloaks that would have entered the potions room, except the collapse was a little more…back, than expected, so they've been knocked the fuck out. Also the rubble makes getting out a little tougher.

So we clamber over the debris, and Hadvar performs three coup de graces without even blinking I mean what the hell man

We're a little too rattled by the suddenness to do anything other than just kind of stare at Hadvar. Hadvar doesn't catch our eyesight, so we get no response.

He cleans his sword like nothing just happened and…well, I guess I can understand. Half civil war duties and half mercy kill.

Also. "Hi, what's your name?" I ask our Dovakiin. If it ends up being longer than eight letters I swear to god

Meta-laziness.

"Aria." She replies softly. Boring…but easier to, uh, transcribe.

"Ash." In lieu of having a free hand to shake, I just wave. "Hi."

Like a fucking loser™.

Shush.

We keep going…and then hear talking. This is the dungeon/torture area, I think.

"Get that door open, he might have something we can use." I hear a voice that sounds like Ralof. So we caught up…and they got here before we did.

"Ralof." Hadvar's growl is quite aggressive. Deep bad blood between them, it seems. He draws his sword and advance towards the source of the voice.

We burst in to the scene!

Ralof and one other Stormcloak are standing above the dead Imperial Torturer and his assistant. Jake is currently picking the lock to the jail cell containing the dead mage and his Shock spellbook.

Ralof sees us and says "Well, if it isn't Had-"

"Dibs."

"Dude, you can't call dibs, I was here first!"

Whatever impending conflict was immediately sidetracked by me calling dibs on the Shock spellbook while Jake learns how to work a lockpick.

We stroll up to the jail cell like it's the most common thing to do.

And then we, with our ability to think outside the fucking box, shove the spell book with the hilt of our sword towards the cell wall and pluck it up all nice and easy like.

"Fuck you." Jake laughs. "I was about to get it open."

"I can thief better than you." I smirk. Now let's see here…

We flip open the book. Nothing happens.

So I'll need to read this in depth before I can actually learn to use UNLIMITED POWAH or some shit.

"Well, this is a bit of a dud." I sigh and…I now realize I have a carrying capacity of "one free hand" since I'm already holding onto a bottle.

This is why I cheat to give myself a carrying capacity of ten thousand in the game. Ugh.

"Looks like you didn't think this through." Jake laughs harder.

"Screw you too." I laugh in reply. "Help me push the dead guy to the side."

Everyone watch in surprise as we both push the dead mage to one side with our combination of Imperial Sword and Steel Axe.

The reason for doing this is so I can relieve him of his belt and pouch. I can use the belt to (kind of) bind the book to our waist and have it look really stupid, but at least I'll have a free hand.

We tie our rope belt around our dead guy belt so the book doesn't weigh our dead guy belt down to our ankles.

Would Skyrim be more fun if you actually had to worry about shit like this?

"Are you two friends?" Ralof asks conversationally, since we completely defused the situation.

"Best buddies." Jake replies as he goes into the torturer's office for its mace and shield.

"On different sides of the war?" Hadvar frowns.

"I don't know if you realized this, Hadvar, but there's a dragon in the sky." I say conversationally as I take the Iron knife sitting in the middle of the room. "I feel like worrying about politics when the World Eater has returned is a pretty stupid thing to do."

Both of them turn white.

"Alduin?" Ralof asks. "That dragon is Alduin? Why do you think that? How do you know that? Who are you?"

Given the circumstances it's easier to lie. "Dude it's burning down the town, as far as I care, it's Alduin until proven otherwise."

"So what are you going to do?" Hadvar asks me.

"Right now? I just want to get out of here." I stretch. "You ready, Jake?"

"Yeah." Jake's armed with ragged clothing, an Iron round shield, an Iron mace in his hand, and a sword at his waist. I'm also wearing ragged clothing too, I should mention. Hence the rope belt. "Let's get the fuck out."

"You're going to work together?" Ralof asks in slight disbelief.

"Yeah?" I make my best 'are you kidding?' face at him. "If you and Hadvar want to kill each other down here, be our guest. We're leaving."

Realistically though, we kind of need them. There are more dudes down the line and the two guys with next to no combat experience are very likely going to be killed to hell and back if things get hairy. 'When' things get hairy.

"You two came from the same town, right?" Jake says to them.

They nod, a little warily.

"Then you should be settling your differences like men." He grins. "With lots of alcohol and arm wrestling."

"Either way, c'mon, Aria, we're going." Gotta keep the plot token with us for now, though.

"Um." She's not sure what's going on, and thus does not move from her supporting position behind Hadvar.

"Loudmouth has a point." Ralof sighs and sheathes his axe. "I don't want to die trying to kill someone from my own village. Sovngarde would look down upon brothers cutting down brothers."

Hadvar doesn't quite scoff, but he's certainly not as jazzed about that explanation (going by the eyeroll). Still, he sheathes his sword as well. "I'm not too keen on killing a man I've known all my life either. If Ralof is to die, I'd rather that he dies with honor, guarding some Stormcloak granary."

"And I hope you drown in a puddle." Ralof replies in a tone that…I'm going to read as best-friendly. Y'know, how best friends are kind of assholes to each other until shit goes down.

We share a smirk with Jake. Mission 1 success!

…

Our group of six proceeds basically unharassed through the rest of the Keep, until we get to the rock tunnel part and reach the cave bear. There were no Stormcloaks or Imperial Soldiers fighting down here to cause more unnecessary dramatic tension. Thank fuck for that.

There's also no loot to be had.

Damn fuck for that. Is Fuck a god?

Pretty sure it can be.

Either way, cave bear's resting in the open, so we're hiding out to draw plans.

"We have enough people to kill the thing." The Stormcloak Extra draws his two-handed axe and charges right at the oh he's dead nevermind.

We are lying: Ralof put his hand on the man and restrained him.

So he's not dead.

"A cave bear is still a cave bear." Ralof mutters. "Don't underestimate it."

"That bear seems to be limping." Aria observes (she's good at this shit). "It's probably been in a fight not long ago."

The bear limps towards the spot illuminated by the sunlight coming into the cave/tunnel/dungeons, and then sits down to nap.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Hadvar breathes. "Come on, we can sneak past if we tread lightly."

So we try to tread lightly.

Fun fact about treading lightly: the ground isn't just a straight texture with no debris to make noise, and of the six of us…

Well, none of us have any real skill in terms of sneaking, so I daresay between our shuffling feet, our armor, and the occasional rings of metal on metal…the cave bear isn't interested in trying to kill us or we would be dead already. Or at least badly maimed.

Ultimately we sneak past with no real problems.

And then we meet the likely cause of the cave bear's lethargy.

Frost Spiders. Frostbite spiders. One of the two names is accurate.

"That explains the bear." Ralof hefts his axe. "Make yourselves useful!" He roars and jumps into the battle.

There are eight spiders. Because they are the size of dogs, they're not as scary as they would be if they were the size of our hands.

…well ok actually they're still quite fucking terrifying but it's not as

While we're rambling in our head, everyone except us has already thrown themselves onto the spiders.

Ok yeah I should earn my keep. LEEROY

We dash towards the spider closest to us and kick it like it was a football. World Football, not American Handegg.

MMMJENKINS!

Our foot connects with the spider's underbelly (it's facing away from us).

Ow that shit is actually quite hard

The spider takes the kick and falls back about a foot, but it's still viable and alive. It's also pissed and is turning towards us as a result of the hit.

So while it's getting its bearings we rush it, draw, and plunge the sword into its eyes.

I like lunging. It requires little training beyond "aim the fucking weapon".

The rest of them dispatch the spiders with no problem. I wish I knew how to loot spiders. I wish spiders just turned into a container holding one vial of perfectly bottled poison the instant it died.

Either way, we follow them out the last leg of the tutorial dungeon.

And the wall of text comes again.

Ugh.

We, along with Jake, fall to our knees as we emerge from the dark cave into blinding sunlight.

"It's not that bad." Hadvar jokes.

Ugh…so that's what that was.

"Did you see that?" Jake asks with a wince.

"Yeah, I did." I also know what I did, too… "What did you pick?"

The thing that just flashed before our eye—the giant screen of text—was effectively a perk chart…though given the size of the text the chart is huge and impossible. And without really realizing it, I had picked a perk.

"Great Weapons Master." Jake says.

Great Weapons Master gives double gains on Health and weapon skills. Half gain on magic and other skills.

And I somehow know that. Ok.

"What about you?" He asks.

"Combat Support."

Combat Support doubles gains on crafting skills. Half gains on non-crafting skills.

I don't know how this gains system is going to work. I assume it's similar to skill experience but since this is apparently real life…eh. I'll figure it out as we go.

…Man, I am glad this is Skyrim though. I don't think I would be nearly as calm about being attacked by a fucking Dragon if I the setting was just a little bit different.

"Well, we're free." Ralof sighs. "Thank Talos for that."

"Was that really Alduin?" Hadvar sounds a little worried. "And not just your average dragon?"

"When was the last time you saw an 'average' dragon in Skyrim?" Ralof says in a 'you're an idiot' kind of voice. "I need to get this information to Ulfric, he needs to know that we're tangling with the World Eater."

He gives Hadvar a glance, like a 'are you going to stop me?' glance.

"And I need to inform the Legion." Hadvar nods, his hand going to his sword.

"Since you both didn't expect this, I think that means we're all neutral here." Jake steps in. "So let's agree to not kill each other immediately?"

"He's right." Ralof nods. "Skyrim deserves to be safe from all threats, not just the damned Imperials."

"The Imperials are trying to keep it safe, regardless of the Stormcloak's efforts." Hadvar replies with just a light jab. "I have my duty."

"As I mine." Ralof sneers.

So…

"Where do we go from here?" I mean, I know we're going to

"Riverwood."

Yeah, that.

Both Hadvar and Ralof said that at the same time.

"No point travelling further until we restock." Hadvar says. "Though I daresay we have different people in mind."

Ralof smirks. "Indeed."

The two…uh.

Well they're walking to Riverwood, but um…are they friends? They're like…trying real hard to not be next to each other, but are totally keeping pace, but are not…

"Is this how yaoi starts?" Jake muses in an undertone.

…

…

We make our way to Riverwood from…

Well, it was sometime after midday when we started walking, it's a little after dusk now that we've crossed the threshold into Riverwood.

Total wolf meetings?

Zero, because wolves aren't random encounters. They're probably stalking us though.

Anyway, we also managed to touch the Ritual Stones. Jake picked Warrior and Aria picked mage.

Leaving us with…

Warrior.

Really.

…What? It's not like the stones are unique. I took Warrior to see if it would do what it does in the game, which is to make all physical based skills grow faster. My hunch says no, but we'll see.

"Two warriors and a magician." Hadvar says approvingly. "Sovngarde would have frowned on your execution."

Ralof looks annoyed that his line was stolen.

Anyhoo…Riverwood.

Riverwood is a village with a population of maybe 500 by my estimates of roof-counting. The village is more lively than it is in game, likely due to its importance as an immediate stop between Falkreath and Whiterun…and Helgen, though Helgen is in itself a midstop between Falkreath, Whiterun, and Riften.

It's very lightly patrolled and has a militia presence made of locals armed with axes. I wish I was surprised.

Still, reminds me of home, only more…European.

Anyhoo, Hadvar goes for a meeting with his uncle Alvar The Local Blacksmith and Ralof meets with his sister The Lady At The Mill or some shit.

Aira decides to go with Hadvar, so the two of us tags along.

Or as Ralof put it: "I don't need the two of you to make my job any harder."

He kicked us out of the Stormcloaks. Might be because we tried real hard to avoid getting him killed? I dunno.

Either way, we meet Alvor, who lets us into his house, and we alert him of the danger of Alduin.

Needless to say…he wasn't real convinced of the Dragon in the game, and he sure as hell isn't convinced that the Dragon was The World Eater.

Ultimately, he does agree that Whiterun needs to be alerted of the dangers, and tasks Aria on the job per our suggestion.

Why?

Well…to put it simply? Alduin bothered her path, not ours, so we don't have any real concrete information beyond "it was loud and hot."

"The journey to Whiterun will take around three days." Alvor says. "It's late, so please make yourselves at home."

Well there's like two beds and uh…four guests.

"Good luck on your trip, Aria." I say and make to stand.

"Yeah." Jake stands as well.

We get some surprised stares thrown our way.

"I would've thought the two of you would go along with her." Hadvar says with genuine surprise.

So…how do I put this without sounding like an asshole? "She's more than capable enough without our help."

B+.

Shush.

"You can escort her on the way, Hadvar." Jake adds.

"The two of you don't seem to hold duty seriously." Alvar doesn't seem to approve.

Well I can't really talk my way out of this one. "The duty is assigned to Aria, not us." I shrug.

"So be it." Alvar sighs. "I wish the two of you well on your travels."

…

We're now back on the street.

Well, now what?

"We probably should have asked for money for a night in an inn." Jake says with 20/20 assvision. "Though that probably wouldn't go over too well."

Yeah, well…we'll manage.

Ultimately…

We find a nearby inn, tell them we have no money, and offer to chop a bit of firewood in exchange for a simple room and some food.

Axe swinging is hard when the sun's gone down, but we manage. In related news, my arms are on fire and I hate everything.

We're given two simple rooms, though all rooms in this inn are simple.

"This is eminently uncomfortable." Jake says of the fur and thin layer of hay beneath us.

We're basically sleeping on the ground.

"No shit." The ground is hard and it's pretty cold with this thin blanket, so boy are we not stripping down for this. "What made you take Great Weapons Master?"

He pauses. "I didn't." Jake says with some confusion. "It was taken for me. Did it do that for you too?"

I…yes? "Yeah." I know I didn't make a conscious decision to weigh perks or whatever, because I know I would have opted to avoid a min-max perk in favor of one that only had bonuses even if the bonuses are weaker.

Not much of a munchkin.

"So I guess they're like our level zero perks?" He has a musing tone. "Hmm. What are we going to do next?"

"Well, I figure we'll look around to see if there's anything important we can learn, and then we'll head out to the Barrow."

"She's gonna have to go for it later, right?" Jake's referring to the Dragonstone. "Are we gonna take it first?"

"Would be interesting to sell it for shits and giggles." I chuckle.

"I'm suddenly having second thoughts about tagging along with you." Jake laughs.

"What, because I'm showing my kleptomania?" I laugh with him. "Hey man, if she can't handle fetch quests then being the savior of mankind will be entirely out of her grasp."

"That's a terrible way to look at it!" He laughs. I think the living conditions are already driving us mad.

We banter some more before exhaustion overwhelms the discomfort and we fall asleep.

…

[The Next Day]

…

Oooh god my back hurts.

"Oh god my back hurts." Jake groans.

We both get us and everything hurts like holy shit how the hell is this considered a good night's sleep.

You're spoiled.

I guess.

…In retrospect, this is rather like the beds my grandparents had, only not as heated by fire.

We get up and get a free meal of bread and thin soup from the Inn out of pity.

For the record this is not the same inn as the one staffed by Delphine.

Anyhoo, now that I have some time on my hands…let's get to reading!

Fun fact about real books: they don't vanish after one reading.

After two hours of learning, both of us finish the book.

We still can't cast the spell though, so…yeah. A bit of a letdown.

Oh well, next!

…

We spend the rest of the morning walking around Riverwood listening to the rather rampant whispers of an attack on Helgen. Seems like at least one person saw something like a glow of fire in Helgen's general direction.

Overall it was pretty pointless.

During lunch time, though…

We hear someone go "hey" somewhere to our right. The voice came from behind a building and is definitely not shifty in any way.

We turn to see…

A Dark Elf…forget the Skyrim name for it, but basically a shifty dude in patchwork armor.

"Can I talk to you two for a moment?" He asks politely, but shiftily.

Racial profiling is bad.

Naturally we're both a little bit suspicious.

"I'll pay for lunch."

Well he can't be that bad. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

That was fast.

"I heard the two of you talk about Bleak Falls Barrow last night." He admits to eavesdropping. "Apologies, but I'm a historian of sorts, and I'm looking for a little help getting there." He says with the mother of all shifty eyes.

…either he rolled a 1 on bluff or we rolled 20 on calling out bullshit, because wow that lie is bad.

But we're going to play along anyway. "Sounds interesting. What kind of help are you looking for?"

"Well." The man gives us a small, devious smirk. "I have, through copious research, discovered that the Barrow holds an immense secret, a treasure beyond imagination."

Fus is a good word, yeah. "And I imagine you're looking for some hired hands?"

"Not quite." He says cheerily. "Bodies I have plenty. What I'm looking for…is talent." He steeples his hands. "In order to gain access into the Barrow, I need an item from this village."

I think I know where this is going.

"Let me guess." I hold up a hand. "The owner isn't willing to part with it regardless of the offer."

The man blinks in surprise. "I can see that we're going to be fast friends." He smiles wide. "That is indeed the case. Sadly, I believe that my...appearance…is the cause of his unease."

Buuulllshiiiiit~~

"Thus, I would like you to negotiate for the Golden Claw held at the Riverwood Trader." He leans back. "Do that, and I'll have a spot on the expedition team for you."

So…this guy's…um. I don't remember his name, but I think he's the dude who almost gets Spidered until you kill the miniboss in the Barrow. I actually have zero guarantees that he won't just shank me outright after I hand him the claw.

…well, let's play along and see what happens. "Sounds intriguing. I'm in."

"I'm out." Jake shakes his head. "I have other jobs I have to attend to." He says with a badly disguised glare at me.

"Well, then good day to you." The dark elf dude says politely to Jake.

We finish our lunch and the Dark Elf (Arvel the Swift, Lord of the Ironic Names) excuse himself.

"Dude, you're not seriously going to do this." Jake notes when we're sure Arvel's gone.

"Not really, but it's worth looking into." I reply. "Besides, if we're going to live here, we might as well live it up a little."

Jake is…unconvinced. "Are you sure about that." He says in an 'I don't think you've thought this through' tone. Or a 'think it over you moron' tone. One of the two.

"Yeah. Ever been hit by a dragon when you were out in Riften in-game?" I ask him. "I would rather take chances and be ready rather than sit back and do nothing."

He exhales. "Alright, fine. I know you're clever, but don't get too crazy."

"You're going with Aria to Whiterun, then?" I ask him.

"Maybe not with her, but yeah." He nods. "I'm gonna see if I can learn to use a sword before I throw myself out there, unlike some idiot I know."

"Feet first into hell." I grin and raise a fist. "Don't die."

"Same to you."

Brofist!

Alright, now…how should I go about doing the theft thing?

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

Jake's not an actual person. Sorry to any real Jakes reading this.