The roads of Windhelm were completely silent as I walked toward the market square to open shop for the day. My little booth was relatively new and I didn't have much product to sell, but it was enough to secure a room in Candlehearth Hall and have enough food and drink to sustain me. After only a few minutes of walking, I arrived at my booth just as a light snow started to fall. It was almost always snowy in Windhelm, completely the opposite of Whiterun, the town I had grown up in. I had left Whiterun only a year ago to start my life over in Windhelm. As much as I loved my home, I had to leave Whiterun to seek the shelter of the stone walls of Windhelm. After having been tracked by the Dark Brotherhood, they burnt my home to the ground after a failed assassination attempt on my life. Thankfully now it seemed that they either hadn't been able to track me, or they couldn't get past the walls of the city. I longed to not live in fear.
My thoughts were interrupted by the other merchants entering the square to open their booths for the day. Each stand was different, providing travelers with a vast array of items. My booth provides many potions and ingredients at a low price. Nurelion, the owner of the apothecary shop, the White Phial often complains that I might run him out of business if I continue to offer such low prices. I know I never could, he is far more knowledgeable about the potions he creates and sells than I could ever be. Adventurers will often journey to Windhelm to buy specific poisons from him.
I pulled out my key and unlocked the door at the bottom of my booth to bring out my wares for the day. I had only a few bottles of healing potions and a couple of wilting mountain flowers. I let out an audible sigh.
"Something troubling you?" Aval inquired as I set the potions toward the front of my booth.
"Sales have been slow." I replied quietly.
"That they have been. One can scarcely afford to eat in times like this." He replied before setting back to his work.
The day passed slowly. I spent most of the day watching the blacksmith work. He was busy crafting pieces for the Stormcloak soldiers. In the midst of a war, he seemed to be the only one in the market to have too much work to bear.
Most of the people in Windhelm looked up to Jarl Ulfric and supported the Stormcloaks. But there were a small few, including myself, that chose not to get caught up in the civil war. I found too many faults with both sides to ever be able to choose which side to fight for. My father had been an avid supporter of the Stormcloaks and was always somewhat embarrassed by my indifference. He had always had high hopes that I would grow up to become a fierce warrior so at a very young age my father taught me how to swing a blade and use a heavy shield. Many times he would take me along with him on hunting trips and even into the occasional crypt. I could fight well, but unlike most Nords, I didn't long for the fight. My soul longed for adventure, but my will to fight died with my father in Bleakfalls Barrow. We had gone in on an errand for the court wizard in Whiterun, I barely made it out alive when we stumbled upon multiple booby traps and draugr throughout the crypt.
A chill went down my spine as I replayed the moment in my mind when I watched the draugr's blade penetrate my father's chest. In that moment, I could no longer fight. The only thing I could do was run. I never looked back.
I snapped out of my reverie when a figure dressed in dark armor stepped into the market square. The first thing I noticed about this newcomer was that he was an Argonian. At least I assumed it was a male. He passed by my booth without even sparing a glance and stopped at Aval's booth. I watched with curiosity as he paid for the few items he was getting from the general wares stand. I hadn't ever spoken to an Argonian before. I had actually never been this close to one for that matter. I knew that the dock workers here in Windhelm were Argonian, but since traveling to this city, I hadn't been outside the gates for fear of being found.
He turned from the booth and eyed the rest of the market, before his bright yellow stare fell on my booth. My heartbeat picked up as he approached my stand. What would it be like to speak with one of these creatures? How had he even been allowed into the city?
My voice came out in almost a whisper, "Welcome traveler, I have a few healing potions at a reasonable price."
His face almost looked amused. Had he been able to make the expression, I was sure he would be smirking at me.
"I'll take every healing potion you have." He replied.
His voice wasn't harsh like I imagined it would be. It was smooth, deep and albeit just a touch raspy.
I was almost too stunned to speak, "…every potion?"
"Yes, I'm leaving for Solstheim in the morning, I need a full stock of healing potions."
A smile spread across my face. I desperately needed the coin.
"I only have ten minor healing potions, so that'll be 260 septims." I replied.
He handed me a pouch of gold and gathered the red bottles into a bag before turning to leave without another word.
The sun was just beginning to set so I locked my drawer and made my way to Candlehearth Hall. I decided to take the long way around so I could go past the cemetery to harvest some nightshade that grows amongst the graves. I had lifted spirits, I had sold more today than a whole moon's time and I had had a successful encounter with an Argonian; which was something I never saw myself doing. My lifted spirits came to a sudden and startling halt as I rounded the corner. When I descended the stone steps that lead to the burial grounds I came across a terrifying sight. A woman's mutilated body was strewn across a stone slab. Several people were gathered around and a guard was trying to divert people away from the woman's slain corpse.
But no one was leaving.
I joined the crowd. This was the third murder in a short time. Each one with shocking resemblances. Every time the body was cut in such a way…it was horrific. A few onlookers were mumbling, saying that they hadn't seen what happened, but had happened upon it only moments after the attacker had fled. I was staring hard at the body, unable to look away. Memories of my father passed through my mind. His panicked gaze as he tried to call out for me to help…I was unable to help him, just as I was unable to help this poor girl.
I was about to turn to leave the gruesome sight when the Argonian from the market square approached. I watched as he spoke with the guard. She seemed to get upset with him, before he walked away from her to question one of the people in the crowd. He spoke with Silda the Unseen before approaching me.
"Did you see what happened?" He questioned.
"No..I only just arrived here. It's so horrible, this is the third girl mutilated in such a way." I replied.
"The third one? Why are the guards doing nothing about this?" He hissed out.
"I assume it's because the majority of the Windhelm guard are busy with the war." I stated.
He shook his reptilian head before making eye contact with me once more.
"I will find out who did this and I will not let another woman die." He stated with such compassion.
He is only an adventurer, most likely a sell sword, and yet he truly cares for the fate of the people in this city. I suddenly had a new found respect for this man.
"You should get away from here. No reason for you to look upon this anymore." He replied.
I nodded. I really couldn't be here anymore. It was too familiar. Too painful. I quickly made for Candlehearth Hall. The thought of a warm fire beckoning me to move faster…