Finally writing a Skyrim story! Seriously, you have no idea hiw much of my life I have put into this game. Anyway, I kinda fell in love with Vilkas while playing and now can't get enough of him. So please read and review! Don't be afraid to give me your opinions! Love you lots!

And of course... I don't own Skyrim. There would be pink dragons if I owned Skyrim.

The streets of Whiterun were more empty than usual. All the residents were in their homes taking shelter from the cold winds and occasional drunken vagrant. But really, they were probably all just afraid of the full moon. Rumors of werewolves ran rampant through Skyrim. They lurked in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment to strike their unsuspecting victims. If only people weren't so ignorant.

Vilkas didn't shudder as the breeze hit him. He was used to the feeling of the cold against his skin. He looked up to moon, a complete contrast to the black sky. There was a sick irony to the whole thing. What would people do if they knew that the people they look to for help were really the ones they fear the most?

The Bannered Mare was up ahead. The smell of a wood fire surrounded its perimeter. Skjor glanced over at Vilkas and then at Aela before pushing through the door. The pub was just as empty as the streets. Hulda was still behind the counter wiping down the glasses used that night. The bard slumped in a chair by the fireplace with a bottle of mead in hand. He looked up just in time to see Vilkas approaching his area of the room, eyeing him with disapproval. The bard sat up immediately and put down the cup of mead as if to demonstrate his own sobriety. The air was tense as the Companion walked past, as the two had had many a scuffle before. Most of them a result of an upset woman coming to Vilkas and complaining about his vulgar behavior.

The trio pushed on to a table in the back, where they had been told in the letter to wait. This all started a week back, when a courier came to the Jorrvaskr. The letter was addressed to Kodlak, who reported to the Circle that it was a job offer. They were to meet a man at the Bannered Mare tonight for details. Kodlak sent Aela, Skjor, and Vilkas as representatives.

They sat down at the table and looked around.

"I'm not going to wait all night for someone we're doing a favor for." Aela mumbled in aggravation.

"Patience, my dear." cooed a voice from the coroner of the room. They all turned to the source of the noise, which was a tall Nord man leaning against a wood beam with his arms folded. He wore fur armor and a battle axe on his back. The small smirk on his face seemed genuine, but is eyes held anything but humor. The man took a step toward the trio and welcomed himself to the table. "I'll take it you are the Companions I'm looking for."

"You'd be correct." Skjor said warily. "I'll take it you sent the letter."

"Right." The man smile again. Aela sat up as he did so, setting herself on higher guard. It's never a good sign when someone smiles as they give you a job. Vilkas followed her lead.

"Skip the pleasantries. Why are we here?" Aela practically growled.

"First things first" he said "My name is Rynoff."

"Skjor" the elder said, keeping his even temper. "This is Aela and Vilkas. So what is this about?"

"All business I see. Alright. Then I will make it clear now that this briefing is not to be shared with anyone. I have a problem that I need taken care of. From what I've heard, you are the ones to go to."

"What kind of problem?"

"A woman."

Vilkas and Aela exchanged glances. "We aren't matchmakers, if that's where you're going." Vilkas almost laughed.

"No. That wasn't where I was going." All the humor was gone from his voice. "This woman is a thorn, in the side of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak." He smiled as the look of realization crossed their faces. "Yes, I am here on his behalf."

"We don't like to involve ourselves in the war."Skjor said almost immediately. "It's not our battle to fight."

This seemed to anger Rynoff, who clenched his fists and banged them against the table. "This is every Nord's battle! You can't just sit in your safe clubhouse while your brothers and sisters suffer!" He suddenly stopped and composed himself. The smile returned to his face. "But I forget that you live in an Imperial capital city. No matter, I did not come here to talk politics with you. The woman is not a member of the Imperial army. It would have no effect to your standing in the war."

"If you need someone taken out, you should have called the Dark Brotherhood." Vilkas said angrily. "The Companions aren't murderers for hire."

Rynoff seemed surprised. "No no, I want her alive. I need her to be delivered to Windhelm."

"Why not send out Stormcloak soldiers then?" Aela spoke up.

"As I said before… this is off the record. Plus I'm afraid this would be too much of a challenge for Ulfric's boys. She's… dangerous."

Aela and Vilkas looked to Skjor, who seemed to be deep in thought. He looked up and nodded solemnly.

"We'll think about it." He said, still keeping his cool.

Rynoff smiled as if expecting this. "Of course. Maybe this will help you decide." He casually threw a large pouch on the table. Aela reached to it cautiously and opened it. She gasped.

"There must be at least 1000 gold in here!"

"Yes. And that's just an advance. I'll triple that is you finish the job."

Aela looked to Skjor. "We could use the money."

"It doesn't matter, Aela." Vilkas said gruffly. "This isn't a job for us."

"Who cares." She barked back. "It's nothing we can't handle!"

"That's not what I meant. This isn't what we stand for. We can't give up our beliefs for a profit."

"Quiet you two." Skjor snapped. "Vilkas is right; we can't give up our beliefs for money. But we won't be able to help other people if we have no income to help ourselves." He looked up at Rynoff, who still looked as confident as ever. "We'll do it."