Disclaimer: I own nothing from Elder Scrolls V Skyrim, the characters from the awesome mod Skyrim Romance by Maralightfeather, or any other mod-related content referred to in this story. This is purely fan-made and I only claim ownership of the character I'm playing as created in-game.

Note: Well here we are at last! I've been talking about this for ages and here it is, the very first chapter of Hunter's Creed! For those of you who are wondering what the heck I'm so excited about that are just starting to read this as a stand-alone story there's something I'd like to explain. I've been planning to write this for a while but I've been waiting for a certain mod to release in its final version and until I created a character in Skyrim that I liked enough to write about and I finally have! If you'd like to see her visually, check out my DeviantArt. There should be a link there in my profile page. For those who are here from the Skyrim Romance site though, this is TheChronicler and I'll be sharing a special version of this story on the site which will include in-game screenshots to go along with it. But I whole-heartedly invite readers from here to check this version out too, even if you're not a member on the site or if you're only here to see what kind of story I'm writing revolving mainly around the Skyrim Romance mod. , writing this story and making this other special version is going to be a long process so I'll be more likely to update the non-screenshot version here first. Just fyi. Now without further ado, please enjoy this first chapter marking the beginning of our adventures in Skyrim together!

Chapter 1: The Color Of Darkness

17th of Last Seed 4E201

An enormous black dragon flew right over my campsite today. Yes, a creature right out of legend. It let out a deafening roar to announce its presence to the world, a roar more thunderous than sky-shattering rumble above us, then vanished into the storm clouds. I don't know where it's going, but wherever it is it can't be good. I need to warn someone of the danger right away. I just hope they'll be willing to listen to me.

Honestly if it hadn't flown directly overhead or felt the surge of wind from it beating its large leathery wings that nearly knocked me over and put out my fire like the weak flame of a mere candle, I never would have believed my eyes! I wouldn't blame them for not taking me seriously. I doubt I would either if I heard it from someone...like me. Still, where in Oblivion did it come from? I thought the dragons were long since dead. So, either their total extinction in Tamriel was highly exaggerated, or there is something else much bigger going on here in Skyrim then just the civil war...

It wasn't long after the dragon disappeared that I noticed the dark plumage of smoke rising from the small village of Helgen in the direction where it had just flown from. There's no doubt in my mind that this black dragon I saw was the one responsible for the devastation I saw once I made it back up there. Everything was scorched almost beyond recognition. Scarcely a single building was left standing and there was no sign of life anywhere.

All I've found amidst the debris so far are the bodies of countless innocents, their lifeless forms still warm only because of the dragon-fire that had burned them alive. The rancid smell of their burnt flesh made me scrunch up my nose because of how overwhelming the stench was. Sometimes my acute sense of smell is more of a curse than a blessing since it's much greater than a human's. But despite my discomfort, I'll continue my search through each of the ruined buildings for any survivors at first light. It's getting dark, and the smoke is making it hard to see even with my night vision. Surely some of the villagers escaped the dragon's onslaught, right? Until I learn otherwise, I'll hold out hope that someone is still alive in there.

18th of Last Seed 4E201

While still searching the town for survivors of the attack I eventually discovered a journal belonging to some adventurer that was mistaken for a Stormcloak rebel. Apparently a very stupid one that idiotically spent his last moments recording the dragon attack in his journal before being killed by a falling beam in the building where he'd been hiding. He must have flung the journal out of harm's way just in the nick of time instead of saving himself. I feel sorry for him, but at least he's given me a vital clue that could lead to possible survivors!

After following the adventurer's last entry about where he last saw his fellow prisoners run off to, I ended up rescuing a man named Ralof from a cave nearby. I recognized him from the brief moment our eyes met when the guards at Helgen turned me away at the gates-as most do-and a cart full of prisoners was lead inside. That's about the only interaction the two of us shared and since there was nothing else to do I was forced to camp out for the night as usual. I assumed I'd never see the man again. So, color me surprised that Ralof turned out to be one of the few who survived when he was originally brought there to be beheaded…

19th of Last Seed 4E201

While tending to his wounds back at my campsite Ralof told me everything that happened after I left Helgen in his own words. About the dragon attack, about Ulfric Stormcloak being one of the other captives, and about their escape amidst the chaos. It sounds like only a few others survived that he knows of, but more importantly, someone still needs to warn the Jarl of this region about the dragon attack. That's something we both agree on but for now he needs to rest, if only for one night to recover his strength.

20th of Last Seed 4E201

Once Ralof seemed well enough to travel we made our way to Riverwood. I was actually there once a few days ago to purchase supplies at the traders. The only reason I managed to even do that was because I helped the shopkeeper get his golden claw back from a place called Bleakfalls Burrow. Lucan was so thrilled to have it back that he even gave me a discount along with the gold he paid me as a reward for my services.

Too bad he wouldn't buy this strange stone tablet off me too. Still, maybe I'm better off holding onto it for now since it might have something to do with what happened to me near that wall covered in strange inscriptions. After that, maybe I was hoping for too much because just like what happened to me in Helgen too, I was turned away from the inn that night. Such is life I suppose.

Thanks to Ralof's company though I've received a much warmer welcome this time around, surprisingly. Turns out Ralof is the mill owner's brother and she is well respected around Riverwood. At least by the local residence. Bishop however, the ranger I've seen holding up the wall of the inn several times now, I'm not sure if he respects ANYONE.

Just then there was a knock at her door and Noir abruptly closed her journal and tucked it away under her pillow in a single fluent movement. It wasn't as though she was ashamed of anything she'd written in it. But, it also wasn't anyone's business either. Least of all Bishop's…

And that's exactly who was on the other side of the door. Noir could smell him. There was a distinct scent of dust on his boots from the many roads he'd traveled, the familiar musk of cured leather, and the faint but refreshing fragrance of pine trees that clung to him. Not to mention the more recent addition of the scent of mead on his breath when he sauntered into the room.

Noir was used to smelling a similar aroma on bandits and hunters who traveled frequently through the wilderness, minus the pine trees. Although Bishop at least claimed to be a Ranger, which she assumed was a slight mixture of both. As in Bishop wasn't always necessarily 'law abiding.' Then again, neither was she but at least Noir only stole as a last resort. And even then, it was normally only food.

"Feeling lonely Ladyship?" he asked with a coy smile.

Noir blushed slightly but then replied, "Uh no. Besides, isn't it a bit late to be drinking? I thought you wanted to get an early start tomorrow."

Scoffing at her words Bishop closed the door behind him and sat in the nearest chair, nursing what was left of the mead in his mug as he peered up at her from the rim of it. But she wasn't fooled, Noir knew he was staring at her for the umpteenth time. It was like Bishop was sizing her up, trying to convince himself that Noir really was who she claimed to be and she was serious about helping him track down his wolf, Karnwyr.

His crisp amber eyes were surveying Noir again in a similar manner to the way they had when they first met. It happened right after she returned to Riverwood again to give Gerdur and Ralof the news that the Jarl was sending troops to protect Riverwood from another dragon attack. Because as it turned out, that black dragon was just one of many that were returning, and that stone tablet she found not only had to do with the dragons, but Noir did too because she was also something out of Nordic legend. The Dragonborn. A mortal born with the soul of a dragon with the power to use Shouts, just like Ulfric Stormcloak but without training.

Needless to say, it was no wonder Noir had a lot on her mind after the events of the past few days. Besides, Noir was also looking so forward to taking advantage of sleeping at the inn again that she blatantly ignored the two drunks on the opposite side of the road across from the inn. Noticing this, Bishop decided to point that out to her from his lofty perch near the front doors and they finally struck up a conversation for the first time. That's how things took yet another unexpected turn and Noir landed her very first traveling companion.

To be honest she wasn't sure how things would work out with him in the end but if nothing else, Noir understood better than most what it was like living without a friend in the world, trusting no one. So, if traveling together would help him be reunited with his other furry companion, then that's what mattered to Noir. Even more than any chance of a reward or a favor in return someday. That's more than a lot of people could say when offering to help someone these days.

Completely draining the mug at long last, Bishop grinned and sighing in contentment. "Now that hit the spot!"

"If you're not going to answer me then go back to your room," Noir replied in a half-joking half-serious tone.

"Patience is a virtue. One that you clearly haven't mastered yet. That, or learned the simple fact that it's never too late to drink," he laughed, rolling his shoulders and lacing his fingers together behind the back of his head. Then Bishop raised an eyebrow at Noir and continued. "So, remind me again why you of all people decided to drop whatever it was you were doing to help me. I mean you're the Dragonborn, right? I've been mulling it over since you offered to help me rescue Karnwyr from those pit fighters, but for the life of me I haven't been able to figure out why. That is, unless you only offered to help in exchange for my 'services.' In which case, all you had to do is ask instead of going through all this trouble."

Noir rolled her eyes at his subtle wordplay but then cracked a small smile and cleverly hid it by faking a sneeze. "Oh sorry, excuse me. I'm allergic to stupidity."

"Very funny." Bishop frowned, unamused.

Taking his question seriously now Noir sighed and cast her eyes down at her hands, searching for the right words. "I won't lie, there is another reason I decided to help you but let's be honest Bishop, there's no point in telling you what it is if you end up deciding not to stick around after we save your wolf now is there? I need to be sure that I can depend on you first. I've heard good things about you from the villagers here in Riverwood so I'm not too worried. At the same time though, despite the implications you just made, you're right about one thing. I'm not about to invest a lot of time and effort into traveling with someone who may end up leaving at the first sign of trouble. And by that, I mean the trouble I'm bound to get into from now on, not trouble from traveling with you. I am serious about helping you find your wolf but, there's still a lot I need to figure out on my own about this whole Dragonborn business with the Greybeards too. Does that make any-"

Seeing his head starting to bob slightly when she looked up because of his late-night drinking and Bishop was nodding off, Noir shook her head and stood up, walking over to him. But when Noir was about to suggest for him to go back to his room again Bishop shook himself, stretched his arms and legs, and stood up without a word. Then Bishop walked out and closed the door behind him again after saying in passing that he'd see her in the morning as more of an afternote...

Noir blinked slowly, unsure of what this action signified. Did Bishop get the answer he was looking for and left because of that? Or had something Noir said upset him? Either way at least Noir had the room to herself again and could resume reading the last few entries of her journal in peace to review everything that'd happened so far since the destruction of Helgen and discovering her new status as the Dragonborn. Although the room felt noticeably lonelier in the ranger's absence…or maybe that was his ulterior motive all along? The sly fox.

Well whatever his intentions were for making this late-night visit, it was a surprisingly nice feeling to have someone to talk to for once that didn't seem to mind that she was a Khajiit like most people. Even if he WAS still a bit infuriating at times. That, and Bishop didn't mince words just because she was the Dragonborn either. Granted Noir was still getting used to the idea herself...

She appreciated his brutal honesty in a way truth be told, because unlike other people who were like that, Bishop wasn't mean about it. At least, not the distasteful I'm-looking-down-on-you kind. Part of that was because up until now the only constant companion that Noir kept close to her were her journals, much like how Bishop had his wolf. But in a way, that only made their current relationship starting from now on even more sad. The fact that neither of them felt like they could get close to others, let alone trust each other that quickly.

While there might only be a handful of people that Noir trusted here in Skyrim, as opposed to Bishop only trusting his wolf, there were even fewer who knew of her unhappy past. At least he had someone there to listen to him, even if it was only a wolf. As for Noir, the only one who was there for her to confide in while traveling alone the wilderness, were the empty pages of a journal. Just like back 'then.'