I gather my supplies, And head into the town of markarth. I decide to stop at the shop that more or less sells everything I'll need. Stepping into the shop, I immediately smell the scent of heavy dust. It fills my nose like a swarm of bees trying to suffocate me down my throat. I immediately spot something I craved- a ruby encrusted steel sword. It was dwemer- for sure- with a gold plated handle. I could tell the materials effortlessly with my years of training. I head up to the counter, where an old woman is perched onto a chair. Then, I realize, I have no gold. And with no gold, I cannot buy anything. "How can I help you, deary?" She asked me. I rack my brain for a convincing lie- I need not tell her I have no money. "Oh, well-you see, I was wondering, how on earth did you manage to get my sword?" "YOUR sword? You must be mistaken! An old gentleman bought this in, not three weeks ago, as he didn't want it to be given to the Siverbloods when he dies." "Oh... Grandpa! He got crazy in his old age. Got real clingy to the things in his house. He wont eat anything, as he says it'll be wasted. And yet- he feels like the Silverbloods will take it all for themselves!" I thought my lie was going just amazingly, when the woman piped up "Ah yes, I was believing your story, right up until I remembered, this man was Argonian. You are clearly Imperial." I had to think of a story- fast. "Didn't I say? That's my god grandfather! After my parents were assassinated- I had no one to turn to! He took me in, and gave me this sword that was my fathers! Its all I have!" Then, I started crying. I told myself it was the tears from good acting, however part of me feels that its the news that the clan has let me go, that's just caught up with me. "Lass, don't cry! Its OK. Here, I'll get you your sword- Just sign this paper, and I'll ask the dear man if he knows you. You are staying in town, aren't you?" Now, I knew very well that I wasn't staying in town. But that didn't stop me. "Yeah, I'm here until Mundas- the seventh of Heartfire, if I'm not mistaken." "Ok. So, if you just sign here-" As I sign a false signature under the name 'Siseria Hawkeye', I fantasies about the damage it could do. "Uhm- Siseria, I do hate to question you further, but you must be eighteen to acquire this sword." "Aha, well I was actually nineteen last month- but I am ever so flattered by your mistake." Yet another lie. I was actually still only sixteen and a half. But after the battles I had been through, I had aged more than normal. I was starting to create a whole false profile, a person that didn't exist. She was collected, calm, and not about to head into an almost certain death.