It was a freezing mid-summer night; everything frosted to the touch, but that's normal in a place like Skyrim. Not even the plants could withstand this intense condition. Yes, the trail to Whiterun certainly was cold, the only thing visible to my eyes being my own breath hitting my face. Riverwood may have been pleased with my company, but under no circumstance are they ready for attack. We need protection. This place I called home is no longer safe, we're not prepared for what may happen again.. That doesn't matter much anymore, Helgon is destroyed and it's anything but our fault.