1
Whiterun
A stranger approached the gates. The city had changed much in the last three years. Not so much from the looks. More from the inside. There were massively increased guard patrols these days. Vampires were attacking the settlements. Since the civil war had been won by the empire, imperial soldiers were marching the streets alongside the whiterun guard corps. The main gate was guarded by six men, one of whom stepped forward and stopped the traveller in his walk.
"Put down the hood. Let me see your face, stranger" the soldier said, unsheathing his sword.
"Very well" the hooded figure answered. He pulled back the hood of his travelling cloak and the facial features of an altmer came to view. Pointy ears, tall and slender build, yellowish skin and golden eyes. His head was completely shaven and there was a scar on his left cheek. On his back there was an elven bow of very fine quality. He smiled at the guard.
"I am looking for an inn, sir. Maybe you can recommend one."
The guard eyed him warily. After some quiet seconds he came to conclusion that the stranger was not dangerous enough to pose a threat to his beloved city. He sheathed his sword and nodded.
"We have two inns. The bannered mare and the drunken huntsman. The bannered mare is up the road behind the market place. But there is a fight between the drunkards every night. I personally recommend the drunken huntsman. Master Elrindir is a fine gentleman. Sells also hunting and archery equipment so you might prefer his shop as you seem to be an archer. Right behind the gate. Follow the rules and you'll have no problems. I wish a good night" the guard said and the gate to the city was opened.
Behind the gate, another squad of six men stood guard, three of them in imperial armor, the other half in their whiterun guard outfit. The elf gave them a friendly nod and looked around. The architecture was typically nord. Wooden houses with straw covering the ceilings. This was the city where the legendary dragonborn took residence after slaying alduin, the world eater. Married to her housecarl Lydia, she settled down to live the life she always wanted. Calm, free of war and dragons. And she couldn't have chosen a better place, the high elf thought to himself. Whiterun was beautiful, in a simple way. If forced to make a choice where to live, he would have chosen this city. He had seen many cities and smaller settlements, many of them very beautiful, but this place in the heart of Skyrim was better than all. He visited Windhelm and Solitude, Sentinel and the imperial city. None of them was as inviting like Whiterun. Finally, his eyes found a wooden sign, reading "drunken huntsman".
"There we are" the elf said, approaching the wooden door of the building.