Arskar sat on a tree stump on the outskirts of Riverwood, examining what few possessions he had. There was his only weapon, an iron sword he had found on the body of a courier killed by wolves; it was dull and grey, a miserable weapon. It certainly hadn't done much good for the dead man. Next there was a set of clothes, just belted tunics and brown pants along with fur boots. He had a coin pouch containing 600 septims, and a belt stockpiled with nord mead and alto wine, enough to give the Nine colossal hangovers. Finally, he had a bounty letter that Jarl Balgruuf's men had dropped off at the inn; it said that whoever killed the bandit leader at Halted Stream Camp would be handsomely rewarded. The brute wielded a mace of pure silver, and the man that slew him was to bring it back as proof.
Arskar sighed. He knew that he could never defeat an entire camp of bandits on his own. An idea wormed its way into his mind, and a smile found its place on his lips. If Arskar couldn't kill those bandits on his own, then he wouldn't face them alone.
Our nord protagonist shoved the door to the inn open and surveyed the room. That idiot bard who obsessed over that girl Camilla was singing a tale about Ragnar the Red, the village drunk was living up to his title, and there was an elf dressed in robes sitting in the corner.
Arskar made his way over to the table, nodding hello when the man glanced up. "You wouldn't happen to be a mage, would you, friend?"
The elf glared suspiciously at him - most nords hated magic, but when he saw Arskar's friendly smile he grinned cockily. "Just graduated from the college. I was the best in the class."
Arskar gained confidence. He didn't like magic and anybody associated with it just like most other nords, but he was willing to forget his prejudices until he had what he needed. "You sound like quite the powerful mage. I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me kill some bandits. I'd pay you quite a bit, of course."
The elf smirked. "I'd be happy to oblige, for just 500 septims in advance."
Arskar blanched. That was nearly all the money he had. A plan popped into his head and his friendly smile grew even wider. "Of course, I'd be happy to pay you. By the way, what's your name?"
"I am Tuumir, soon to be the most famous wizard to have graced Tamriel with his presence. And what do they call you?"
"I am Arskar. Just a simple man with great ambitions. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Tuumir. We ride out tomorrow."