CHAPTER 1 - BEFORE THE STORM

Life had never been ordinary for Atrius, but today had definitely taken the cake. Somehow caught up in an Imperial ambush, he had escaped certain exection in the small village of Helgen when a dragon attacked. Now he was off to warn the Jarl of Whiterun at the behest of the citizens of Riverwood, a town not far from Helgen – a town now in fear. Dragons had not been seen in centuries. Many presumed they'd been dead, but apparently not. If today was anything to go by, they were alive, well, and a threat to Skyrim – maybe even the other provinces. This certainly wasn't something that happened every day.

"I wonder what ma would've made of it," Atrius though to himself as he trudged the road to Whiterun, the afternoon heat beating on his back.

A Nord and Stormcloak soldier named Ralof had helped him escape Helgen. When they had reached Riverwood, his sister Gerdur had provided a meal for him. Ralof even suggested Atrius join the Stormcloaks, but Atrius suspected that was more nerves from the day than anything else – Atrius was a politician, not a warrior. And in any case, civil war was the last thing on Atrius' mind after today's events. Still – he was indebted to them, and hoped to repay the favour one day.

Thankfully the road from Riverwood to Whiterun was a short one, and it wasn't long before Atrius could see the peaks of the palace in the cloud district somewhere off in the distance. It seemed that the palaces here weren't nearly as grand as the ones from the Imperial City where Atrius had been raised, but Nords were not known for being delicate and desiring luxury so much as the Imperials were.

Before he knew it, Atrius had made it to the city gate, his thoughts carrying him and his feet unconsciously obeying. Before he could make it any further however, a city guard stood in his way.

"Halt! The city's closed with dragons about. Official business only."

He sounded authoritative, but as he wore helmet which masked his face, it was hard to tell if he was afraid. If news had spread this far this soon…well, the city was closed, and that gave Atrius enough information about how the townspeople were feeling right about now.

"Riverwood calls for the Jarls' aid," Atrius said. His father had represented the Nordic race all his life growing up – Atrius knew how to speak for others. He had his father's example to follow.

"Riverwood's in danger too?" The guard asked, his character showing through. He turned to open the gate for Atrius. "You'd better go on in. You'll find the Jarl in Dragonsreach, at the top of the hill."

Atrius muttered his thanks to the guard before heading inside. He was surprised to find the mood of the people to be fairly non-chalant. Children were running around, merchants were trading. The air was full of laughter when one would've thought it would be filled with hushed and frightened whispers. It made him glad – a strong resolve and joyful heart would be needed in the face of such danger in the days to come. If only they can continue in it.

Sure enough, Dragonsreach stood atop the highest hill in the city. It was only a palace made of wood – not like the stone and marble Atrius had known in the Imperial City – but there was something charming about it. He opened the doors and made his way before Jarl's throne, but found himself stopped by a mean-looking dark elf in leather armour, sword drawn and ready for a fight.

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" she demanded. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

"So I've heard," Atrius replied. "But that's not why I'm here. I have news from Helgen. About the dragon attack."

The Jarl had clearly been half-listening to their exchange. Though he had been speaking to an advisor, he looked over as soon as Atrius mentioned the news about Helgen.

"Who's this then?" he asked, as the dark elf stood aside to let Atrius pass. He came before the Jarl. "So, you were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"The dragon destroyed Helgen. And last I saw it was heading this way."

The Jarl's face turned grim, and he sighed briefly. It occurred to Atrius that, Helgen being not too far from Whiterun, the Jarl may have had friends and family who perished there this morning. But if this was the case, the Jarl kept it to himself.

"Irileth," he said, turning to the dark elf. "It appears you were right."

Jarl Balgruff turned to the advisor he had just been conversing with.

"What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My lord," Irileth interrupted, "we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains-"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" Proventus protested. Atrius sighed internally. He knew all too well the nuances of politics – how one move made innocently could be percieved as aggression by neighbours. As soon as people split themselves into groups, there was no trust between them anymore. Skyrim, it seemed, was no exception.

"Enough!" The Jarl's booming voice interrupted Atrius' musings. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl."

"Well done," the Jarl said, turning back to face Atrius. "You sought me out on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it."

It hardly seemed to Atrius that this act had been one of his own initiative seeing as it was Gerdur's idea to speak to the Jarl, but it seemed best to let that go.

"There is something else you could do for me…" the Jarl mused. "Come! Let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons."