I: On the Edge of Helgen

I'm back at where it all started. Bloody Helgen. Imagine wanting to behead me! Me! All the Imperials and the Stormcloaks… and that unfortunate prisoner before me. I remember, he could have been saved, if that Dragon had arrived sooner. It wasn't to be, though, 'cause I'm here and he's not.

Oh, but, introductions, right? My name, Kumiko Arkia Tora. I'm in Helgen, or, rather, the charred remains of it, surrounded by dead bandits. They took over the place after everyone left, clearly. I'm not meant to be here. I'm meant to be going to the Goldenglow Estate or something to steal… a thing… and burn some bees… but I went quite out of my way. Goldenglow's near Riften, in the very South East of Skyrim, and I'm all the way over in the West. Where it all began…

Now, if you think I'm going to be spouting all of my experiences from page one, stop, because that is atrocious, monotonous and tedious (they just put out a thing called a 'Dictionary', it's really… interesting). Plus, my memory is rather selective. Like, I remember what happened to that unfortunate chicken in Riverwood, but I don't remember why the hell I was in Ustengraav. Wasn't it to get a horn or something? Anyway, this is Helgen.

I don't know why I came here, really. Just for the nostalgia, I guess. The stars are out now. There's someone who passed me once in Windhelm who muttered something about the stars being how the Daedra watch us, like they're peepholes or something, but I've met Daedra before, and they don't need stars to watch us. Nah, if they want to watch someone, they just watch them.

Pff, where was I? I've totally lost my train of thought. I do that a lot. Oh, and falling off bridges. That's kind of my thing.

One time, I was talking to Tolfdir outside the College of Winterhold, and I was standing on the very edge of the bridge. It was really inconvenient because Tolfdir wouldn't shut up and I was just slipping down the edge of the bridge…

"… have to attend my classes. If you don't you won't learn. The point of the College is to educate and introduce magic, so that you will be able to use it skilfully…"

"Um, sir?" I said, but Tolfdir wouldn't listen. And all the time my feet were slipping, slipping, slip-

"Goddamn fuck!" That's the sound I make when I fall of a bridge. And then sometimes I go, "Oo, ninroot!"

No, this time I would have broken my legs if I hadn't landed in the snow. I lay there dazed for a while, and saw Tolfdir's silhouette from way above me. Through my fuzzy muzzy eyes, I thought he was Talos or something, but, no, he was just that stupid old man who forced me off a bridge.

Now don't get me wrong, I like Tolfdir. But come on! Me and him in some Nordic burial barrow or something and he's like, "Oh my, I've never seen Draugr in places like this!"

'Scuse me, Tolfy, but this is where Draugr come from. And I'm meant to have this guy teach me stuff? Mm, I'm not so sure 'bout that. I think he's a little senile. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if he just didn't wake up one morning.

I walk out of the way of the bodies and over to the burning fire the bandits have made. It's a little unruly, liable to burst onto the dry wood just a few yards away and burn the whole place down for a second time. I kick the wood to the side and sit on it, making myself comfortable. It's hard; this armour's not made for kicking back and relaxing. I feel drowsy. How long has it been since I've slept in a proper bed? I'm used to just curling up by the fire, or, if there isn't one, finding a warm corner. I'm a Khajit; I live for corners.

I touch my tail with my gloved hands and remark to myself just how brittle the fur is. I need to find a river. Give myself a bath and catch some fish. I know another Khajit and she's terrified of the water. Won't go near the stuff. I asked her how she copes in the rain and she says she waits for it to stop before setting off on adventures. How does she catch fish? She doesn't… she steals them. Pretty skilled. Pretty skilled indeed.

A cinder from the fire just leaped at me. It wasn't very nice. I was just sitting minding my own business when yow! a cinder decided to join the party. Lucky it didn't go in my eyes. They're both still in working order, and I wouldn't want them ruined by fire.

I've heard voices. I wondered for a second whether I was crazy or something, but no, I just haven't cleared out all the bandits. That's quite surprising. I thought I had. I'm sneaking around, my bow drawn, just waiting for them to speak again. I think they're in the keep. Dammit, I should have checked!

I peek through the door I've cracked open a little, but I don't see anything straight away. I let myself in, my footsteps no more than a whisper on a crisp winter night, and grin. My whiskers are twitching like crazy, wanting to find out where the voices are coming from. Should just be around that corner.

Yes, there they are, two bandits. They've not done anything to defend themselves. There's a man and a woman. I pull back an arrow, hold my breath and aim, letting it fly with force towards the man. It strikes him and he stumbles, but doesn't drop yet, and I fall back into the shadows. With a grunt, he heaves himself up and I hear them coming this way. The woman looks around, eyes looking but not seeing, so she does not see me. The man is bleeding, so it takes him longer, but, with a second arrow, he falls. She runs over to him, a stupid move.

I aim, I shoot and she, too, is down. Nothing left to do except… loot all their stuff! They didn't have anything interesting, and only 12 gold between them. Pathetic. And they call themselves bandits? They're bloody useless. They should consider a new line of work. Probably one where they don't run into me. Unfortunately, they're in oblivion, so that ain't happening for them anymore.

I carry on through the keep. Rotting corpses of previously dead people are slumped lazily against the walls, their blood being consumed by insects of differing shades of gross. I keep away from them. Creep against the complete opposite wall. Eugh, bugs…

Goddamn, there's another bandit here. Nothing to do but load the bow and shoot the arrow into his neck, I s'pose. He falls like a leaf, cracking his head off the floor. Not hard to kill, really. Their skin is too soft. Lets in the arrows too easily.

I clear out the rest of the keep, and end up on the outside of Helgen, on the path I walked with Ralof that one time, or 'Blondie' as I referred to him 'cause I didn't catch his name the first time he told me. He probably said it loud enough, I just wasn't listening. Too busy running around screaming at that great hulking dragon, probably.

It's still dark, but dawn sun scratches across the horizon, spiking the blue with that peachy colour of the sun. I want to go towards the sun, but I'm still tired so I want to go away from it. Early birds, up and restless like me having recently killed their latest victims too, insects for them, start whistling. There's a tree with some dark, warm shade under it so I retreat there to lick the wounds I received from the bandits outside the keep, and rub my back against the rough bark of the tree. It gets hot inside this armour and my back gets itchy. I'm a Khajit, I need a scratching post. Half the nights I actually sleep I wake up with scratches across my face from my own claws. It sucks.

It's quite lonely out here. I s'pose I could have gotten Lydia from Whiterun to accompany me, but I dislike her quite a bit. She sounds really creepy, "I am sworn to carry your burden…" she sounds like a masochist or something. I might be into all that stuff, but I've never really had enough time for experimentation. More stupid, "hey, you're the Dragonborn! Do this completely unrelated and random quest I need done!"

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhh… fine. As soon as I get back on the bridge where you are, I'll talk to you. Gimme a minute."

But, yes, my point is, I might need a friend. Not sure I want to marry. I'd end up just getting bored with my spouse and murdering them in a ditch somewhere. Am I evil? It's only 1000 gold for a man's life.

Not sure how much it is for a woman's – probably cheaper.

I'd rather have a friend. One I can go, "Hey, man, I need you to accompany me to this deadly barrow where we're probably going to face booby traps and Draugr…" and they'd go, "Screw you, man, I'm getting drunk in Riften!"

Whatever! Riften's my City! I will own Riften one day! True, it's terrible and everyone, literally everyone hates it, but… that's its beauty. You know. Thieves everywhere! Then when other people kill them, I loot all their important stuff. Then when that's done, I drag their bodies away, down to the sewage river- sorry, canal, and dump it in a boat. There's three in there now. I've made a club! No idea whose boat it is… whoever's it is, they're going to get a bit of a shock when they go rowing. And I'll be there, watching their expressions and cackling.

Well. Maybe.

Am I evil? I think I'm evil. Sometimes, though, I just can't help it. Fighting a random Nord I met on the street who called me a 'milk-drinker' which, admittedly, is true… I'm a Khajit (sorry to keep mentioning it), milk is my staple diet, and I'm hacking at him with my sword and he's hacking at me with his mace and I slam it down and he falls to one knee and cries, "Mercy, mercy! I surren-"

It was too late. By the time I'd heard his plea, I'd swung that glass sword. Slash, blood, oops.

That was my reaction.

"Man? Man! Are you…? Oh dear… sorry! Dammit, Talos, I didn't mean it!"

Then I was kind of glad I'd killed him because if he'd heard me calling 'Talos!' I'd have been in real trouble. Kicked him in the head after that, just to make sure he was dead. Could have him squealing on me for the Talos thing.

That wouldn't do at all.

Hey, I've just noticed; where that whole fiasco took place is just down the road from here. Nostalgia! That's a lovely thought to go to sleep to.

-Kumiko Arkia Tora - Middas, 2nd of First Seed