The mountains were clear this morning against the crisp blue sky. The Throat of the World loomed over the trees. Deer ran free, grazing on the grass and vegetation. The river shone and whispered. Skyrim had been thought to be the most beautiful province in all of Tamriel although very untamed and rugged. There were bandit fortresses every five miles in every direction, ferocious wolves, flesh-eating trolls, lumbering giants, wooly mammoths and not to mention the freezing weather. It was home to the Nords, a hardy people who valued honor and victory in battle. The capital of Skyrim was Solitude, home of the Bard's College.
Huddled beneath the Throat of the World was a sleepy village known as Riverwood. Few newcomers came to Riverwood. If any did, they were merely passing through to Whiterun. Riverwood
stood on the eastern banks of the White River. The town was mainly known for its mill, run by Hod and his wife, Gerdur. There were two shops in Riverwood. One run by the blacksmith, Alvor and the other by Lucan Valerius. Lucan and his sister, Camilla had come to Skyrim from Cyrodiil to escape the Great War against the high elves. Lucan was a short man, with a tired and serious face. His mustache snaked around his lips to his goatee. Lucan didn't establish the Riverwood Trader because it was his dream, but more because it was something he was good at, and he needed the money. Lucan, unlike his sister, enjoyed Riverwood and its simplicity. He liked knowing all the people in the village and the crispness of the air and the piquant aroma of the great pines. Lucan wasn't as social as his sister. It took him time to get to know people and warm up to them. He often envied his sister and her social side. She could talk to anyone, even kids. Lucan never could seem to talk to kids. Camilla, on the other hand, secretly hated Riverwood. She wanted to go and live in Solitude or Whiterun, where she could make something of herself. She was a city girl at heart. She loved to meet new people. In Riverwood, she was just a shop-keeper's sister, who cooked and cleaned and occasionally manned the shop. Camilla had lived in Riverwood for three years, and each day was the same. She dreamed of the day when she would leave Riverwood and become known throughout Skyrim.
"Lucan, perhaps we might hire a bard and acrobats to attract new customers," Camilla questioned.
"Ah, Camilla. What would be the use? We are the only general store in Riverwood and the same people come into our shop every day. We mustn't waste our hard-earned funds," Lucan reprimanded.
"Yes brother, you are right. I was merely thinking of ways to make both our jobs more eventful."
"My dear, life is not all about pleasure and excitement. You must settle down and do your duties," Lucan explained. Camilla sighed, and decided to take a stroll through Riverwood. The summer breeze cooled her skin as she stepped out onto the porch and walked onto the road and smiled as Gerdur passed by.
"Fine day, is it not?" Gerdur beamed, her accent thick on her tongue.
"Quite lovely! I can almost smell the sunshine!" Camilla laughed.
"Indeed. Say, how is Lucan? He seemed a bit run down when I saw him this morning," Gerdur inquired.
"Oh well, you know. Its the time of year when the shipments come in and he gets a bit stressed, but I think he can handle it."
"Well, we haven't had any large lumber purchases lately, so if it ever gets too much for him, my Hod might be able to give him some assistance," Gerdur implied.
"How kind, but we don't have the money to be taking on any hired hands at the moment. But thank you for asking. Lucan is doing just fine."
"He'd do it for free, but if you insist."
"I do. Farewll Gerdur." Gerdur waved, and Camilla hurried to the bank of the White River. She would occasionally come down to the river to clear her head and relax whenever Lucan got on her nerves. She hated when he would treat her like a child. She was eighteen, and old enough to have a life of her own. Often, she would ask herself why she never did. Perhaps it was Skyrim. Traveling from one city to another was dangerous, one could easily be killed by bandits or trolls. She slipped off her boots and stepped into the chilly stream. She found this area herself when she went out on her strolls. It was beautiful. Wild flowers spotted the shore. A juniper tree shielded her from the sun. It was odd that a juniper tree grew in Whiterun Hold, when they only ever grew in the Reach. She assumed someone must have planted it there. Camilla called this place the river glade. It was far enough away so that she wouldn't be disturbed but close enough so she wouldn't be harmed by animals or beasts. Camilla sat down and leaned against the tree, and undid her hair so that it fell about her shoulders. She knew that walking around the village with one's hair undone was improper, but she didn't care. Camilla never considered herself ladylike. She stretched out on her stomach and looked at her reflection in the river. She sighed. Camilla never considered herself pretty either. Her skin was pale like the snow on the mountains and her green eyes hardly matched her dark hair. Her face was angular and her cheek bones stuck out of her face. She supposed that Sven and Faendal had stolen glances at her, but she hardly thought anything of it. She was the only available woman in Riverwood, so why wouldn't they? If they left Riverwood, they would see that she didn't compare to some of the other women. She stood and stretched, deciding that her time of self-pity was over. She turned to leave, but as she did, she heard a thundering bellow carried on the wind, so far away, it could have been a whisper. It came again, but this time louder than before. Camilla froze. It was unnatural. Wizards experimenting, perhaps? Necromancers performing a crude ritual? Hardly. Again. It was much closer, but this time she could make out a howling snarl. Her legs wouldn't move. She smelled burning embers and saw a column of smoke rising in the distance. Camilla waited. And for what, she wasn't sure. Like a shadow, a figure loomed far off over the trees. An involuntary voice gurgled from her throat. She had heard tales and fables of dragons but never really thought anything of them. They had long since been extinct. Hadn't they? Without another thought, she bolted back to Riverwood.
