Arthimus Eyon looked over past the Tundra from the hills of Riverwood as he pulled his sword out of the chest of an attacking wolf.

"Fuck dragons! Fuck you Skyrim!" yelled the crude half Nord/half Imperial. Most would say the same, if not worse, in his shoes. After having his head on a chopping block, escaping during a freak dragon attack, fighting Stormcloak rebels in the sewers of a tiny, now destroyed town, and travelling to places he'd hever been (all in one day) are not the things a person would like to go through. Especially Arthimus. Walking along the road from Riverwood to Whiterun, he stopped to pick some flowers, not only because he liked nature, but because he was trying to wash out the scenes of today from his head. Arthimus kept walking, and after going through some serene switchbacks through the foothills, came upon the cold, harsh tundra.

"At least there's mead", smiling to himself as he looked at a small meadery that seemed to be randomly dropped by the divines. Being a very one-track person, he walked past multiple things that looked exciting, like rivers and nirnroot and giant slayings. All he wanted to do was go to the city that lay dominating in front of him, find a Akatosh-damn bed, and tell some dumb "Balgruuf" that this place called Helgen was attacked by some nightmarish creature who destroyed the town, along with a whole contingent of Imperial guards, a brewery, some pristine forest, and his own sanity.

Walking to the front gate of the city, he was stopped by a guard.

"Hold it right there. The city's closed. Official business only." Wow, Arthimus thought. Someone has a stick shoved up their rear.

"I came to tell Ball... Jarl Ball-something that Helgen was destroyed by a dragon" he said, trying to remember Hadvar's words.

"Oh wow," said the guard, "it's not like we have already gotten dozens of people saying the same thing."

"Well, mister guard. I was there, at Helgen. So would you mind letting me in? That would be nice."

The guard let him in, "accidentally" tripping him on the way. Whiterun was not very impressive on the inside. A pitiful collection of wooden buildings lay on the inside of the walls. A handful of market stalls and stores were on the inside. Several guards patrolled the corridors and corners of the "city". Walking through the main street, he saw a huge, dead tree in the middle of the city.

"Wow, what a rathole of a city" he said to himself. In the small square surrounding the tree, some religious zealot was screaming out texts from the Book of Aedra. Somewhere in the city was a skooma deal. But he didn't care, significantly. He just needed to see Balgruuf, and this thought repeated itself as he climbed up the stairs that led up to the Jarl's palace.