A/N: Hello everyone, I am back! Sorry for the long, unexpected hiatus. I don't think I can post chapters once a week anymore, but I will try to post chapters as soon as I see fit :) I'm also sorry that the chapter I leave you all with today isn't that eventful; however, it's the start to a great part of this story! I hope you all have a lovely day :)

We made it to Raven Rock at the crack of dawn. Summer immediately found herself fancying the bed in the same room we rented the other night. She decided our next course of action would be for her to sleep throughout half of the day while I get her armor repaired by Glover Mallory, the blacksmith.

I leave the Retching Netch, which was located in the tiny market square in Raven Rock. The market consists of a couple of tables and some grouchy Elves. The blacksmith, unlike all of the other citizens of Raven Rock, is a human. He's apparently related to another one of Summer's NPC friends. I look off to the main road that goes through the town, and see the blacksmith was on his grindstone, sharpening an iron sword.

Being that my last encounters with NPCs without Summer didn't go so smoothly, I had a slight fear of getting killed back to reality, leaving Summer alone again. The thought of also losing multiple days of sleep is kind of overwhelming. I hope my twelve year old self was stupid enough to pull frequent all nighters. If so, then maybe my stamina got stronger. Then again, I slept for half of my life, so maybe not. God, my thoughts need to chill out so I can get back to the task at hand.

I approach the blacksmith. His nearly shaved head is soaked in sweat. I don't blame him, it's got to be at least a million degrees out here with an active volcano a sea away.

Without a moment to hesitate, the smith introduces himself to his new potential customer. "Glover Mallory's the name. If you need a smith, you found the best one."

"That's great to hear," I politely say. "I've got some armor I need for repair," I hold up the Stalhrim armor. "How much will it cost?"

"I'm afraid I can't do the repair on that armor," he nearly mutters. "I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

"I'm on a short supply of Stalhrim," he explains. "So unless you have some already, I cannot do the repair."

"And why can't you mine for Stalhrim?" I question, trying not to interrogate him.

"Crescius Caerellius," he angrily mutters. "He's taken my pickaxe again!"

"You act as if this pickaxe is exclusive to mining Stalhrim," I comment.

"Not exactly," he snarls. "Stahlrim is exclusive to this pickaxe. Unless you can find me another Ancient Nord Pickaxe, I can't get the Stalhrim to repair your armor."

Assuming I'd just been offered a quest, I decide to take it. "I can get it back for you, if you'd like."

"I would," a small smile is formed on Glover's lips. "I'll even pay you if you do."

That being said, I venture off to find Cersomething Somethingius. Remembering his name isn't necessarily first grade. I turn back to Glover, and reapproach him. "Where exactly can I find this man?"

"The local mine," Glover comments. "But don't go in there looking for ebony; you aren't going to find it."

"Thanks," I nod. Making my previously established leave, I venture into the mines.

As I enter the mine, I can't help overhearing an elderly man arguing with a young woman. When I finally see them, the man appears to be an Imperial and the woman a Dumner. I recall elves having much longer life spans than humans, but even if I was a century older than a wrinkling old puppet, I wouldn't marry it. Unless it was Summer. Only if it was Summer.

Wow, I really need to stop letting my brain think on its own. Maybe this is what Summer once told me about when she had a meltdown way back when. At least, I think she told me during the actual meltdown.

Ugh, Conner! Focus!

I approach the old man, and he show obvious signs of annoyance from my presence. "Who are you? What business do you have?"

"I'm in need of a pickaxe that belongs to Glover Mallory," I state.

"Not until you can help me with something first," he states.

Humph. So this is how questing goes in this game. No wonder Summer hated it.

With a heavy sigh, I give in. "What is it you need?"