JARL BALGRUUF'S REQUEST

Katjaa

After a long day of walking the road from Riverwood to the great walled city of Whiterun, Katjaa was ready to get off her feet. Unfortunately, the guards at the gates weren't.

"Hold, traveler." The guard raised his hand, signaling her to stop. "Whiterun is closed. No one is allowed in or out of the city without expressed permission by the Jarl."

She crossed her arms and stood her ground, refusing to move anywhere but forward. "Exactly how am I supposed to get the Jarl's permission if I can't see him?"

The other guard laughed. "That's your problem, Breton."

Katjaa squeezed the bridge of her nose, groaning. She was tired, hungry—having neglected to bring anything to eat on the short trip north—and not in the mood to argue with the two Nords. Part of her wanted to give up for now and camping outside of Whiterun in the tent courteously lent to her by Delphine. But I'm so close to a proper bed...

"I'm guessing the Jarl closed the city in response to the dragon that destroyed Helgen yesterday morning," she said. They stared silently at her behind their steel helmets, so she assumed she was correct. "Well, I was in Helgen, and let me tell you that if anything, the walls caused more deaths. Without them, people could have run freely in every direction. The dragon had them trapped right where it wanted them."

"You... you were in Helgen?" the first guard asked, uncertainty in his voice.

She had to refrain from smirking at finding her way into Whiterun. "Yes. A small group of us did, just barely. One of my friends had to be carried out; the dragon had ensured he couldn't walk." Telling them that Arenar would be able to walk soon enough given plenty of healing wasn't necessary. "I came here to request help for Riverwood. It is defenseless against any threat, let alone a dragon."

The guard who'd laughed looked at his fellow Nord. "The Jarl would want to hear about this. She might know something about the dragon."

"It's late in the evening," said the first guard. "The Jarl will not be taking visitors at this time."

"Then I'll see him in the morning," Katjaa offered.

A moment passed before the first guard stepped aside and opened the gate for her. "Do not cause any trouble, Breton."

Katjaa stayed at the first inn she could find, a little rundown place not far from the gates. She was too exhausted and limited on funds to search for a finer place to rest her head for the night. The innkeeper was annoyed at being woken at such a late hour, but he still accepted her money and groggily grumbled, "Last room to your left." There wasn't a chance of getting any sort of food out of him, so Katjaa resigned to the room with an empty belly.

Once she woke the next morning, her hunt for food was further denied. The trash he was serving at the place was more likely to poison her than to satisfy her hunger. She did manage to wash herself for the first time since staying in Helgen's filthy cells, so it was not a total loss. Though she did have to go right back into the same clothes. After she was dry, she headed out to find somewhere to eat before going to see the Jarl.

Arenar was on Katjaa's mind a lot while exploring Whiterun, as he had been for a great deal of the trip to the city. Despite having snapped at her, Katjaa felt bad about leaving him behind. His leg would've been completely fine if not for saving her.

Arenar was no doubt a great man considering the jail break, but was odd nonetheless. He'd quietly stared at her many times since meeting, and he'd been more concerned about her slightly scraped stomach than his severely injured leg. Katjaa guessed his infatuation with her had something to do with Lielle, the name Arenar had called her by when they first met. He'd said that Lielle was someone from his past—likely an old sad look he'd had in his eyes meant Lielle was probably dead.

She trekked down the road towards the marketplace, which was very busy. It was comprised of small stalls and several buildings, as well as an inn—The Bannered Mare—three times larger than the one she'd stayed in.

None of the food being sold at the stalls was ready to eat right away, so Katjaa moved on to The Bannered Mare. She had to struggle through the large crowd inside to reach the bar. Apparently the Jarl had closed the gates with a major influx of travelers stuck inside Whiterun's walls. Because of that, the innkeeper informed her it would take two hours for Katjaa to get anything save for water. Defeated, Katjaa left.

An hour of walking around Whiterun looking for food ended with no results. Every place she went to either charged a ridiculous amount she couldn't afford or would take a long time to prepare anything. She did manage to explore most of the city in return.

The town square was marred by a giant dead tree in its center, but passersby didn't seem to notice it. Three of the dozens of buildings and homes situated around the town square grabbed Katjaa's attention. A small temple held the sick and dying citizens of Whiterun. According to a priestess the temple was devoted to the goddess Kyne. This name was unfamiliar to Katjaa, a follower of the Nine—not the Eight—Divines. The priestess explained Kyne was the Nordic interpretation of Kynareth, Goddess of the heavens.

A large mead hall located upon a hill was called Jorrvaskr. Its roof was an upturned wooden ship of ancient construct. She deemed these Companions, what the warriors of various races who lived there called themselves, Skyrim's equivalent to the Fighters Guild. A Nordic archer told her they were "descendants" of Ysgramor, an ancient Atmoran hero, and his Five Hundred Companions. They had conquered the land that would eventually become Skyrim and established the First Empire in Tamriel during the Merethic Era. Jorrvaskr had been built next to the Skyforge, a large forge of unknown origins, and the rest of Whiterun had sprung up around the hall later.

She said the closest thing the Companions had to a leader since Ysgramor's death was the Harbinger, who was more of an adviser. The current Harbinger had only recently inherited his title, but was a strong warrior. He had left for Falkreath four days earlier to complete a contract and hadn't yet returned. Judging by the concern in the Nord woman's voice, Katjaa guessed the two of them romantically involved.

The last great building was the seat of power in Whiterun Hold and home to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: Dragonsreach. It was the largest hall in Whiterun, at least three times the size of Jorrvaskr. Sat atop the highest hill in the city, one could see anywhere within and quite a bit beyond the high walls surrounding the city.

Though starving by this point, Katjaa decided to forgo her search for food and go see the Jarl. There were hundreds of people inside the waiting room and the throne room. Asking around, Katjaa learned most of them were angry travelers or citizens determined to convince the Jarl to let them out of the city. So far, none had succeeded. Through the crowd, Katjaa could see the Jarl sitting on his throne, an armored Dunmer on his left and an Imperial to his right.

Pushing and shoving her way through the crowd, Katjaa emerged at the front of the group, hesitantly yelling at the Jarl from beside the parallel dining tables that put a great deal of space between them and Balgruuf. Katjaa saw that the city guards and the Dunmer had hands on their pommels, in case someone dared threaten the Jarl's safety. She took a deep breath and marched forward, ignoring the shocked gasps from the crowd behind her and the orders by the guards to stop.

Once she made it halfway to the Jarl, the Dunmer unsheathed her sword and approached Katjaa. "Halt right there!" she demanded, sword pointed at Katjaa's gut. "What makes you so important to just waltz up here like you own the place?"

"I have news from Helgen," Katjaa answered. "About the dragon."

The Dunmer narrowed her eyes, as if trying to see through Katjaa's nonexistent lie. Finally, she said, "We'll see how much truth there is to what you claim." She returned her sword to her hip but did not remove her hand from the hilt. "Come. The Jarl will want to speak to you personally."

Katjaa followed her up to the throne, eyeing the man sitting in it. Jarl Balgruuf looked to be in his late forties, but the crinkle of his forehead and the lines of worry wrinkling his face made him appeared ten years older. His blond mane streaked with grey matched his beard quite well. A crown rested on his head, marking his nobility as much as his fancy clothing did. His throne was not so elaborate or decorated as she had expected, but it seemed comfortable enough, based on the Jarl's slouched position, head held up by his propped arm as if he were bored. Above him, mounted on the wall his throne was pressed against was a dragon skull. She couldn't tell if it was real or ornamental.

"So. You were at Helgen?" he asked in a thick Nordic accent. "You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

Katjaa nodded. "The dragon destroyed Helgen and killed almost everyone inside."

"Tell me of what you saw. Start from the beginning."

"We were in the courtyard of Helgen's Keep, the Imperials and Stormcloaks preparing to fight each other—"

"Hold," he commanded quickly. "Why were they to fight?"

Katjaa assumed he meant how they ended up in the same place rather than the political and religious reasons behind the event. "Ulfric Stormcloak was captured somewhere along the southern border of Skyrim by the Fourth Legion. He and his men were to be executed but... somehow they escaped their confinements and armed themselves."

"I see." He waved. "Go on."

"The dragon appeared before blood could be shed. It was black as night and bigger than any creature I've ever seen. As long as five men, its tail another two or three; shorter than the mammoths that roam the plains perhaps, but far more deadly. Its cries shattered the sky. When it moved, nothing could hit it. I'd be willing to bet its scales would protect it from any arrows that might've found their marks. I'm not sure about magic, though; that is not my area of expertise. As it circled the city, it picked people off by breathing fire or lifting them into the air and letting them drop back to the ground."

Balgruuf's eyes were nearly popping out of his head. "By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" He turned his head to the Imperial. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once," the Dunmer, who Katjaa guessed was Irileth, said.

"That's why I came here," Katjaa chimed in. "Delphine of Riverwood sent me here in hope of receiving guards for the village."

Irileth nodded in agreement. "It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains—"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as provocation!" Proventus interrupted. "He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him. We should not—"

"Enough!" Jarl Balgruuf glared angrily at his steward. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned to Irileth. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes my Jarl."

Proventus sighed. "If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best." The Jarl watched his steward walk nervously towards the crowd for a bit before returning his attention to Katjaa. "I don't believe you gave me your name."

"Katjaa Amarie."

"Well done, Katjaa Amarie. You sought me out, to aid a village of innocent people. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it."

Katjaa brushed off his praise. "It was no trouble Jarl Balgruuf. Delphine is taking care of my injured friend, so I had no reason not to help her and Riverwood."

"A favor for a favor. A fine agreement, if you ask me." The Jarl brought his hands up to his neck and unlatched a golden necklace encrusted with a ruby that had been hidden underneath his robes. "Here, takes this as a small token of my esteem. It was enchanted for me to resist the burning pain of fires, both natural and magical."

"Thank you, my Jarl." She accepted the necklace and attached to her own neck. The weight was almost unnoticeable.

"I do not give this to you lightly," he warned. "There is another thing you could do for me, but it would send you back out of the city. The amulet will offer you protection from the worst of the dragon's fire, should it reappear—hopefully. "He rose to his feet, standing tall like all who boasted Nordic blood. "Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's Whiterun's foremost expert on dragons."

The Jarl led her across the hall into the court wizard's office, of to their left. The crowd had settled somewhat, having heard Balgruuf's intention to deal with the dragons. The office was neither big nor small, though the large desk cluttered with various objects and the large pinned-up map of Skyrim took up a great deal of space. Sitting side-by-side behind the wizard was an enchanting table—currently being used by a hunched over mage whose back was to Katjaa—and an alchemy table.

Jarl Balgruuf had his eyes trained on a Nord in mage robes standing over the desk, reading a book. She assumed he was Farengar, though she'd been expecting an elf of some sort or a Breton; most Nords didn't trust magic, let alone practice it. Nothing could be made out about the other mage in the room except his robes, which were a lighter shade of blue and in the shape of a poncho. The mage's hood was up, so Katjaa couldn't determine the mage's race.

Jarl Balgruuf stopped at the desk and allowed Katjaa to arrive next to him before speaking. "Farengar. I think I found—" the Jarl's eyes switched to the other mage, and his mouth curled into a smile. "It seems we have a visitor. You could have told me the Arch-Mage arrived."

The other mage turned from the table, pulling down his hood to reveal—to Katjaa's slight annoyance—he was an Altmer. His pale yellow skin, amber-colored eyes, and pointed ears made that quite clear. Thin stubble was barely visible on his chin because it blended in so well. His hair was about the same length that Ralof's had been but a lighter color. Katjaa couldn't determine his age, but since he had no wrinkles or gray in his hair she imagined he was young by elven standards. Not that she much cared either way.

The Arch-Mage smiled as he spoke. "I just got to Dragonsreach a few minutes ago. You were busy yelling at Proventus, so I figured I'd wait here until you were done. Gave me enough time to enchant this." He showed a simple looking silver ring. "This should help boost my magicka pool." His gaze switched to Katjaa. "Oh, hello there. Rimion Volanare, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold."

Katjaa waited a few seconds before answering. "Katjaa Amarie. Previously a courier, but not anymore." And a few other things that you don't need to know.

"We'll talk more in a moment, Rimion. Right now we have some official business to attend to," the Jarl said.

"Of course." Rimion sat down in a chair and signaled for the Jarl to continue.

"Farengar. I think Katjaa can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill her in with all the details." The Jarl waved Rimion to follow him as they left the office.

The court wizard looked at her for a brief moment in silence, likely sizing her up. "So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me?" He rubbed his chin as he thought and then snapped his fingers. "Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons. Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. Well"—the mage snorted—"when I say 'fetch,' I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there."

Well, that's rather specific. "What does this have to do with dragons?" Katjaa asked.

"Ah," Farengar sighed. "No mere brute mercenary, but a thinker—perhaps even a scholar?" Katjaa didn't answer. "You see, when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities."

"But they are real."

Farengar nodded. "One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible. But I began to search for information about dragons—where had they gone all those years ago? And where were they coming from?"

"So what do you need me to do?"

"I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow—a 'Dragonstone,' said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet—no doubt interred in the main chamber—and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."

Nothing is ever that simple. "Anything you can tell me about Bleak Falls Barrow?"

"An old tomb, built by the ancient Nords, perhaps dating back to the Dragon War itself. Ah," he sighed again. "Maybe you just want to know how to get there. It's near Riverwood, a miserable little village roughly a day south of here."

Katjaa didn't like his description of Riverwood, but even more she hated the location of Bleak Falls Barrow. "I just came from Riverwood."

He shrugged, clearly not all that sympathetic. "Damn, if only you would have gotten it yesterday. Would have saved some time. Oh well. I'm sure some of the locals can point you in the right direction once you get there."

Delphine will probably know how to get there. "How do you know this stone tablet is in Bleak Falls Barrow?"

Farengar smiled. "Well. Must preserve professional secrets, mustn't we? I have my sources... reliable sources."

Jarl Balgruuf and Rimion entered the office again. Both men were grinning, which took away some of the extra years from the Jarl's appearance. He looked at Katjaa and asked, "You know what you need to do?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." He turned to Farengar. "This is a priority now. Anything we can use to fight this dragon, or dragons. We need it, quickly. Before it's too late."

"Of course, Jarl Balgruuf," Farengar said. He waved his hand at Katjaa. "You seem to have found me an able assistant."

"He's found two," Rimion said. He looked at Katjaa. "If you don't mind, Balgruuf has asked me to join you."

Katjaa looked at him, trying to hide her concern. She didn't trust the elf at all—she'd literally just met him—but the Jarl apparently could. I won't look good if I say no. "Um... sure, you can come with me."

Jarl Balgruuf smiled. "Good luck. Succeed at this, and you'll be rewarded. Whiterun will be in your debt. Since guards will be sent to Riverwood as well, you two should wait until they are ready to leave, in case the dragon makes an untimely appearance. Probably take a couple of hours before they're are all gathered. Feel free to wait here."