Lydia and I left Riverwood and took the road to Ivarstead, on the southeast corner of the "Throat of the World."

Along the way, we stumbled upon an Imperial camp, where several soldiers were stationed, either making new weapons and armor or tending to their wounded. Commanding them was a High Elf Legate, clad in gleaming Legion armor.

"I trust you're not Stormcloaks," he noticed our presence.

"Just passing through," replied Lydia. "To... Where is it again, Svanhild?" she asked.

"High Hrothgar," I answered.

"I suppose that's fair enough." the Legate smiled. "Legate Fasendil. And you are?"

"Svanhild Forst Blade," I introduced myself. "And this is Lydia."

"Ah, the name, Frost-Blade sounds familiar. Many years ago, one of my comrades was a man named Hjorik Forst-Blade."

"That was my father. The Thalmor killed him!"

"Sorry to hear that. He was a good friend to me. Didn't care about my background."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what made a High Elf such as yourself join the Legion?"

"My parents were traveling merchants, eventually settling in Cyrodiil. I must have inherited their wanderlust. I joined the Legion to see the world. I know, that's just one of those things people say, but it's completely true in my case. It wasn't long before I saw more of the world than I bargained for."

"You're from Cyrodiil too? What's it like back home?"

"Home? Home to me is a hot cup of ale at the end of the day and five minutes without someone needing something from me. Cyrodiil is a beautiful place, full of diverse peoples and histories. But so too, Hammerfell and Skyrim, and every other place I've been. Don't get me wrong; every country has its dark corners. But that's why we're here. To bring order and civilization, and to protect the people."

"Not everyone seems to want you here."

"Ulfric and his thugs are stirring up trouble for their own agenda. The Empire is the only thing keeping the Dominion from walking all over Skyrim. It matters little if some of the people here are ignorant of that truth. They are still citizens of the Empire. It's our solemn duty to protect them."

"I take it you've seen your fair share of hardship."

"The life of a soldier is full of hardship. That's nothing. But they send the Legion to places that have gotten too bad to be settled without violence. What's hard is seeing good people warped by evil. And I've seen the face of evil. It was in the air above Sentinel on the Night of Green Fire."

"What happened during the Night of Green Fire?"

"Back in 42, I was stationed in Hammerfell, on leave in Sentinel, trying to track down some refugee relatives who had fled persecution in Alinor. Suddenly, an explosion of magic in the refugee quarter. Thalmor mages were attacking the Altmer dissidents who were resisting with magic of their own. I ran to the scene with other Legionaries who were stationed there, but the entire quarter was a smoking ruin by the time we arrived. Everyone was dead. Wholesale slaughter. The Dominion, not content with killing dissidents at home, came to Hammerfell to finish the job. We're supposedly at peace now, but I put in to be stationed here to keep an eye on the Thalmor. I've got a feeling they're behind this unrest in Skyrim.."

"That's all we needed to know."

"For the glory of the Empire."

"One more thing. Where's the nearest inn?"

"Ivarstead is too the North of here. You'll find the Vilemyr Inn on your left after you cross the bridge."

"Thank you."

Lydia and I entered the inn and approached the bar. The innkeeper, Wilhelm, informed us of an ancient Nordic ruin nearby and warned us that it was haunted. I asked if anyone else had explored it, to which he answered that a man named Wyndelius entered one or two years ago and that he was never seen again.

When we entered the barrow, we discovered that Wyndelius was fooling the residents into believing that the tomb was haunted and killed him.

I handed the journal to Wilhelm, who thanked me for taking care of him before leading me to a spare room.

The next morning, we approached the foot of the mountain where I overheard the following conversation between two men, a Wood Elf lumberjack named Gwilin and a Nord trader named Klimmek:

"On your way up the 7,000 Steps again, Klimmek?"

"Not today, Gwilin. I'm just not ready to make the climb to High Hrothgar. The path isn't safe."

"Aren't the Greybeards expecting some supplies?"

"Honestly, I'm not certain. I've yet to be allowed into the monastery. Perhaps one day."

"Hello," I greeted Klimmek. "I couldn't help but overhear you saying that you're going to make a delivery to High Hrothgar. I happen to be heading up there myself."

"That I am. Been to the monastery many times, but I've never even laid eyes on one of the Greybeards. Not that I'd care to. Being masters of the Thu'um, they could kill you by uttering a single word. Well, not that they would. They seem peaceful, but I wouldn't want to provoke them."

"What types of deliveries do you make to High Hrothgar?"

"Mostly food supplies like dried fish and salted meats; you know, things that keep fresh for a long time. The Greybeards tend not to get out much if you catch my meaning."

And in return? "

"Well, it's kind of an understanding between us. I mean, it just wouldn't feel right to charge them for a bit of preserved food. The trouble is, my legs aren't what they used to be, and climbing the 7,000 Steps takes its toll."

I could do it for you.

"Really? That would be kind of you. Here, take this bag of supplies." he handed me his bag. "At the top of the steps, you'll see the offering chest. Just leave the bag inside, and you're done."

"Anything I should watch out for during the climb? "

"Well, there's the occasional wolf pack or stray, but that's all I've ever had to deal with. Shouldn't be a problem for the likes of you. Other than that, watch your footing. In these wintry conditions, the stairs can be treacherous."

We both made our way up, killing several wolves along the way. Halfway up, we encountered a frost troll. The beast roared, but we stood our ground. Lydia stood in front of me, ready to fight. The frost troll swung at her and knocked her off her feet, causing her to drop her sword.

"Hey! Three eyes! Over here!" I yelled, tapping my shield with my sword. The frost troll then swung at me with its claws, but I ducked before I slammed my shield into its face and finishing it off with my sword through its gullet.

"Are you okay, Lydia?" I asked my housecarl as I helped her onto her feet.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Like any true Nord, I have no fear of death. I was willing to die for you. After all, your safety is all I care about."

"I wasn't going to let that thing kill you. That's what shield-siblings do."

"Well, thank you anyway."

We eventually made it to the top of the mountain, where I placed Klimmek's bad into the offering chest, and we entered the monastery.