The Bard, The Guard and The Dragonborn.
Chapter 1
Philipp awoke in an unfamiliar bed, next to an unfamiliar woman and his best friend, Emren. His first thought was; "Damn, I need to piss." Philipp rolled off of his side of the large double bed and stumbled through the strange house, decorated with odd busts and terrible paintings. A hangover ravaged his mind, turning his every thought into an incoherent blob. After five minutes of tripping and fumbling around, Philipp finally managed to find the bathroom, he relieved himself and returned to the mysterious bedroom. Quickly he shook Emren awake, trying not to disturb the unknown woman. "Emren, get up! We have to leave, now." Philipp whispered, Emren only grumbled and half-heartedly attempted to sit up in response. After a dozen or so whispered requests, Philipp ended up having to drag Emren out of bed. "Phil? Is that you? Wha-where are we?" Emren's befuddled questions were met with a tunic to the face, "Put your clothes on and let's get the hell out of here."
After a few muffled cries, some stubbed toes and a reasonable quantity of broken plates, the disappointing duo stumbled out into the blinding, midday sun of…..Falkreath? "How the fuck..?" Emren wondered, "No clue." responded Philipp, "We need a plan, Em." said Philipp, "As long as you come up with it, I'm fine, because I'm fresh out of ideas." answered Emren, "Helpful as always, I see." Philipp paused to scratch his scruffy chin and think while Emren admired his surroundings. Suddenly, Philipp piped up, "Dead Man's Drink, now." Emren grinned, "For Talos' sake Em we just woke up! We're not going to drink at this hour!" Philipp exclaimed, but seeing his best friend's obviously saddened face, he continued, "Alright, maybe later" He chuckled and wrapped his arm around Emren's shoulders "You crazy bastard."
The tavern was loud, dark and filled with drunks and outcasts, in other words, it was home for the cheeky Breton and wise Redguard. Philipp walked confidently up to the owner, a faint memory crossed his thoughts, he seemed to recognize this woman, he shrugged it off and continued with a dazzling white smile, "Good day m'lady, may I have a double order of goat cheese and bread? And two bottles of ale, please." Philipp handed over the necessary gold, he looked up and saw a grin, "Aren't you the bloke that slept with Narri yesterday? Yeah, I reckon you are, but wasn't there another one though?" Hearing this, Emren sat up from the table he was keeping for him and Philipp and walked over to the counter with a puzzled expression, "What did I just hear? What is your name woman?" "Valga, Valga Vinicia." The hostess replied, still grinning, "I am Philipp and this here is my friend Emren, now what is this you say of me and my friend bedding the same woman?" Philipp inquired, slightly afraid of the answer, "Oh yes! You boys performed quite the show last night, you were fighting over Narri, wrestling over who got to fuck her. Quite entertaining, mind you, you were both as drunk as can be. In the end Narri chose you both, anyways; your order is coming right up." She smiled and turned her back on the two, now, absolutely disgusted and confused friends.
After a quick and tasteless breakfast the two men asked Valga for directions to Rorikstead, their home town, Valga suggested going to Whiterun by carriage and walking the rest of the way, "About how long might this journey take?" Philipp asked, he didn't expect such a shocking reply, "About three days, four or five if there's any trouble on the road." Emren's jaw hung open, "How much gold is that?" he questioned, "20 gold, now you boys better leave, I have no time for your banter anymore, have a good day and safe travels." Valga was clearly stressed and had finished speaking with them, "And if you happen to see Narri again, tell her to get her arse over here, I can't cook and wait tables by myself." As they stepped outside of the tavern and faced the crisp Falkreath air again, Philipp and Emren started doing the math. "Is it 20 per person or 20 in total?" Philipp wondered, "Either way we're severely screwed. I only have 7 gold." Emren responded "I have none, I payed for breakfast remember?" Worried and lost, they decided to ask the nearest guard for directions. "Excuse me sir, could you point us to the local carriage?" The guard's expression turned steely, like a father about to punish his son, "Stop wasting my time with your pranks, I have actual work to do." The guard then turned and marched away, leaving Philipp and Emren flabbergasted and slightly insulted. After asking another guard for directions, the two found out that Falkreath had no local carriage. Confused and dumbfounded, they retreated to a side street, "We could go back to Dead Man's Drink? See if anyone there is willing to give us a ride back home?" Suggested Emren, "I don't think so Em, Valga made it quite clear that she didn't want to see our faces in her tavern anymore." Philipp sat on a bench and started thinking while Emren whistled a Redguard lullaby. A while passed, the duo's hope slowly trickled away, until an exasperated Philipp said, "Alright Emren, let's go back to the inn, I can't think of anything better." As they rounded the corner to the main road, Philipp saw a sight that made his heart soar, a carriage. But as the two approached the vehicle, their wonder turned to confusion, the first odd thing they noted was the driver, a female. In these war-ridden times, it seemed strange that a woman could manage travelling by herself, but what they saw next left them even more stupefied, the woman was no normal woman, but a wood elf. Nonetheless, they needed a ride, so after sharing baffled looks, the two men approached the Bosmer woman, who was calmly perched atop of her carriage, she looked quite content. "Excuse us miss, but we couldn't help notice that you have a fine carriage, and since it is probably the only carriage in all of Falkreath hold, me and my friend were wondering if you could give us a lift to Rorikstead." Philipp said with his sweetest words and most charming smile, "How much gold do you have?" The Bosmer asked, Philipp's smile faltered, but he pulled himself together and answered, "We are humble folk, and we only have 7 septims, but whatever we can do to help you throughout the trip, we will gladly do." Philipp's charisma surprisingly wasn't budging this wood elves thoughts, he could see it in her eyes, dark green, but with a cunning gleam to them, obviously not easy to trick, "How do I know you two aren't just murderous bandits who won't even hesitate to rape me, steal everything I have and finally slit my throat once we're out on the open road?" Her voice was firm and confident, as if daring the two to respond, "You sir," she gestured to Philipp, "Are clearly a cunning man, who is used to manipulating and lying to people with his sickly words and his empty promises, and the bloke to your right?" Her piercing gaze moved to Emren, "He's huge, and obviously merciless, he could snap me like a twig if he wanted to, and feel no guilt at all, so, tell me why I should believe either of you?" The Bosmer's deduction-filled speech had left the two friends mute. With no clue what to say, Philipp and Emren were just about ready to give up, but as they started turning away, they heard a sentence that filled their hearts with both joy and doubt. "Just having a laugh, alright then, get in you two."