It was a cold winter morning, and Brandrel had just woken up. He walked out of his tent to find that the other Nords at the camp were long gone. He had to go adventuring alone once again, as he couldn't find someone across the entire continent of Skyrim he could trust. Sure, he went through major cities finding nice people, but they weren't the adventurers, or the warriors, they were the workers. Nothing more. Anyone he could find that could join him didn't, as they seemed to have more important things to do. Brandrel ignored this thought as he started to walk on the path that led to Whiterun.
Whiterun was a nice retreat from Skyrim, as dragons had returned and not many places were safe. Whiterun was known for its great guards, and with the help of the warriors called "The Companions", whatever dragon attacked, they could take it.
When Brandrel approached the gates of Whiterun, he could hardly believe his eyes. Whiterun had been attacked, and some bodies and buildings were burned. There was obviously a dragon attack, but why were there flesh wounds on people? Brandrel walked into the buildings that weren't burnt to a crisp. Everything seemed normal, except for the blood on the walls and such. He looked around carefully. Most things had gotten stolen, mostly food. He found a journal lying on the counter of The Bannered Mare.
"Holding out at Broken Skull Tunnel. We are not sure if other Nords had been here before us, but we are taking refuge here anyway. We are hoping that there are other cities that can provide us with what we need."
"Oh." Brandrel sighed. He had been in Broken Skull Tunnel, and it wasn't cleared yet. There were some witches hiding underground. Hopefully they didn't find them yet, because knowing bandits, they would run off and lead them to a heavily populated city. He needed to get there, and fast. Hopefully he would chase them out so they wouldn't have time to take all the evidence. He needed to know what was going on. But first, he had something else to deal with.
Where were the others?