Max couldn't get his mind to calm down as he shambled after Hadvar, each step aching more than the last. The sun was drooping below the horizon, but he could see the short stone wall of a village, lights showing lanterns lit in the quiet village.

"Thank the divine the dragon didn't burn it down too." Hadvar was audibly relieved, Max only wishing he could match his relief. His whole body ached though, barely able to keep his eye's open. The day had been exhausting, from running for his life, fighting for his life, and then marching for hours upon hours through the cold air. The only relief he had is that the temperature had risen as they moved down out of the mountains. Of course, that rise was short lived as night fall had brought the temperatures right back down.

"Ye can say that again Imperial. I need a pint!" Jorge shouted that out, suddenly speeding up as he marched off ahead of them. Not one of them tried to stop the massive man.

"Well, my uncle owns the local forge. You two can spend the night there. I'm sure he will help." He glanced at the two of them, a weak smile crossing his face.

Max glanced beside him only to realize the Ranger wasn't there, looking around for him until he spotted him. He was lagging behind by forty or so yards, having not said a word to any of them.

Wonder why he's being so quiet? He let out a sigh as he let his attention return to Hadvar.

"That would be great." He quietly followed along behind Hadvar, just doing his best to keep up. As they approached the town, he could hear the steady banging of hammer on steel, a sound that could be heard in virtually any town in Tamriel. As they passed the gate, the glowing forge was immediately on their left, easily spotted as it was well lit with lanterns.

"Uncle Alvor!" Hadvar shouted as soon as he had crossed the gate.

"Hadvar!? What in the divine are you doing here?" the man working the forge immediately stopped what he was doing, rushing off the raised stone to meet them in the street.

"It's a long story. We should talk inside."

"Alright, and who's this?" Alvor was gesturing at him, glancing between Hadvar and Max.

"A friend. There's another too, he shouldn't be far behind…" Hadvar glanced off to his left as he spoke, at virtually the right moment as Ranger showed up just then, his cowl hiding his features in the dark night. "Ah, here he is. Anyway, let's get inside."

"Alright." Alvor led the way to the front of the house, opening the door for Hadvar and following him inside.

Max caught the door, looking back at Ranger to make sure he was following to see him slip his bow from his back, sitting down on the edge of the raised stone of the forge. Max let the door close, headed for Ranger.

"Hey, it's pretty cold out here. Let's get inside." He jerked his thumb at the door, trying to sound as friendly as he could.

"No. I'd rather stay out here." Ranger spoke just as curtly as he had been, not even glancing Max's way.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Well… okay I guess." Max shrugged before heading back to the door, slipping inside.

"Yes. A Dragon. I wish I was just going crazy. Helgan is nothing but a smoldering ruin by now." Hadvar was speaking from where he sat at a small dining table, his uncle sitting across from him.

"First this stupid war, now a dragon attack? This world is going to oblivion isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Someone needs to warn the Jarl of Whiterun. We certainly don't have enough guards here to deal with a dragon, and he needs to know."

"I can do that. Just need some supplies to make it there." Max spoke up as he stepped toward the table, not really even sure why he spoke up.

It's just the right thing to do I guess.

"Do you think you could make it there alone?" Hadvar spoke calmly, his attention shifting to Max.

"I'll see if I can't get the Ranger out there to come with me. But even so, yes. I can make it. I could use a map and some supplies though." As he spoke, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he still had yet to eat today. And between the smells in his nose and the food visibly on the table, his body was making him painfully aware of that.

"I'll get you some. Should be a little more than a days travel from here, north and down on the plains. It would be best to wait until morning to head out, so get some food in you two and get some sleep. You can use my bed. For the night."

Max nodded to Alvor before sitting down, a woman he could only assume was Hadvar's wife dropping a plate before him, a thick cut of salmon steaming on it. He quietly thanked her before digging into the meal, silence falling across the small home. Little was said between the group while or after they ate, Max finding his way to the bed they were letting him use, collapsing on it the moment he could.

Max jolted awake, reaching for where he left the blade by the bed as his body trembled. Images were flashing through his mind, ones he had no desire to see again, intertwining with his memories of the destruction of Helgan. He shook his head to clear those memories from his mind before he stood and stretched, having no desire to dwell on the past. The rest of the occupants of the house were silent, not one having stirred yet.

He quietly slipped his boots back on, making the bed he had been using to make sure he was leaving things tidy. Once done, he strapped the blade on his side once more and stepped outside. The sun had only just started brightening the sky, and as such, the night's chill dropped even deeper, as it always did just before dawn. There was a single guard in the street, Max sharing a small nod with the man as he let his eyes adjust to the dim light, and his body to the cold. As he looked around, he realized that the Ranger was still sitting almost exactly where he had been the night before.

Has he slept at all? He moved back over to Ranger, sitting down beside him on the stone.

"did you get any sleep last night?" he spoke in the same friendly manner he had before, trying to give the Ranger a warm smile.

"Doesn't matter." Ranger spoke curtly once more, not even twitching, his hands gripping the bow loosely resting on his lap.

"I'd say it matters. You can't function right without sleep." Max let out a small sigh as Ranger remained silent, continuing on his own. "Once the sun comes up, I'm heading for Whiterun to warn them of the dragon. Do you want to come with?"

"I'll come. They need to know about it." It was likely the longest thing Max had gotten Ranger to say so far, though it was as cold and emotionless as everything else.

I can't really blame him though… Helgan was his home. And he just watched it burn to the ground. Max flopped back onto the stone, letting out a soft groan in response to his still aching muscles. He took a deep breath in, the smell of dried blood assaulting his nose.

"Are you injured!?" Max snapped that out as he snapped up, the Ranger beside him not even twitching.

"No."

"You reek of bloo-"

"I know. Not mine."

"Well, maybe go wash up a little? It's not exactly a pleasant smell."

"Fair." He suddenly stood and strode away from the stone.

"Hey, I'm leaving just after dawn! Don't make me wait Ranger!"

"I won't." the Ranger snapped that over his shoulder before he disappeared into the dim morning.

Max shrugged before he headed inside to wait for the others to wake up so he could prep for the journey.

"Uggh, all this walking is annoying…" Max groaned that out as he tried to stretch as he walked, the small leather knapsack slung on his back painfully digging into his shoulders. His small stretch gave him only momentary respite from the pain at the small of his back, it returning the moment he let his arms drop.

Surprisingly, despite his comment, Ranger remained quiet as he walked along with Max, having continued his trend of saying less than the minimum for effective communication. Now that it was well into the day and bright out, Max could finally discern actual details about him beyond his green cloak and bow. He was wearing a dark grey, almost black heavy linen vest, made of a material called gambeson. It wasn't the prettiest or nicest material in the world, but it's layered design made it into suitable armor, even so far as being able to stop sword blows and arrow strikes, if only those of poorer quality. The vest extended down to his upper thighs, clasped into place with a belt around his waist carrying both his sword and his quiver of arrows. Carrying his arrows on his hip kept them out of the way of his cloak.

His sword, although fairly plain in design, was a one-handed cruciform arming sword, nearly short enough to be considered a short sword. The only piece on the weapon that showed any level of luxury was the wolf's head pommel, so well crafted that it looked almost as though it had been cast from a miniature wolf.

The rest of his outfit was as bland and oddly colorless, simple grey cotton pants and a long sleeve shirt under his vest, with nearly black brown leather vambraces and knee high riding boots. It was odd to see as most folk, the poor included, wanted to make their wardrobes as colorful as possible, so his drab contrast to the average person was almost shocking.

Though covered by his thick cowl, most of his features were adamantly boyish, but not distinctly like any of the races Max had met over the years. It likely would help considerably for him to take the cowl off for even a moment, but Max was too polite to even think of asking. The one feature he could clearly see was the boy's vibrant green eyes, almost glowing from out of the cowl.

"So…. How old are ya?" Max spoke without thinking, more simply wanting to not continue walking in silence. At least a conversation would keep his mind off his aching feet and back.

"Seventeen." Ranger curtly and quickly responded, his head slowly turning back and forth as he seemingly scanned the environment.

"Huh. I'm only twenty."

"You look younger." He immediately snarked that back, and if Max didn't know better, was meant to be taken sarcastically.

"Uh…. Thanks, I think? Mom always told me it's okay to look young now. Because then you will keep looking young later."

"Hmph." He sounded utterly unamused by Max's statement.

Max let out a small sigh, not really sure how to keep a conversation going with Ranger.

"What's an imperial doing this far north? Joining the Stormcloaks?" Ranger's sudden question startled Max, having come to expect the boy would never start the conversation.

"No." he let out a small sigh, his attention falling to the road as he kicked a loose cobble. "Lived north of Bruma for most of my young life. Family farm was burned to the ground when I was fourteen. Been on the road since. Seen Hammerfall, Elsywer, now I'm in Skyrim. Nothing better to do."

"Fair."

"You?"

"Lived in Helgan my whole life. Traveled to most of the southern holds and the surrounding lands."

"Oh… sorry to bring that up…"

"ehh." He kept his eyes scanning their surroundings.

"How are you doing about all… that?" Max rubbed the back of his head as he looked away, feeling like an idiot just for asking.

"Fine." Ranger's voice finally shifted slightly, cracking as he spoke.

So, he is hurting. I wonder why he acts so cold to everyone then? Max let out a small sigh, trying to shake the thought out of his mind. As much as he would like to, he understood that he couldn't help everyone he met. He simply hated seeing people hurt, no matter how.

"We're not alone." Ranger's voice startled him, seeing the smaller boy suddenly stop, unslinging his bow and knocking an arrow.

"I'd put that bow down there boy. Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt now would we boys!" a harsh shouted voice brought Max's eyes forward, seeing a Nord walking out from behind bushes growing beside the path. He had a huge double-sided axe resting on his shoulder, ready to be swung on a moment's notice.

"There's three more. One behind that boulder to our front right, two behind us, either side of the road. Can't see them, don't know what weapons they could have." The Ranger was speaking calmly, his body seeming to not even twitch.

Damn! How is he even determining that? Max flexed his fingers as he widened his stance, getting ready to rip his blade from its scabbard.

"Got a plan?"

"Maybe. Think you can handle the two behind us?" he spoke quietly once more.

"Sure."

"Now." Max expected a shout. As it was, he nearly missed the single word. In a heartbeat, the archer had raised, drawn, and loosed an arrow. The bandit though had ample warning because of the distance, and knowing Ranger had an arrow nocked, that he managed to sidestep it.

Max didn't watch anymore though as he ripped his sword clear of its scabbard, stepping back and pivoting around to watch the rear. Just as Ranger had predicted, there were two bandits stepping out from hiding places beside the road, visibly startled at him spinning around. One had a long-shafted Warhammer, the other a small club.

That Warhammer is a bigger threat. Let's keep the element of surprise best we can. Max sprinted forward, rapidly closing the distance between himself and the two bandits. The hammer totting bandit tried to make a huge counter swing to intercept Max and would have if Max hadn't stopped just out of the hammers range. His stop was only for a moment though, letting his momentum get him moving again as he thrusted his blade into the exposed bandit's chest.

He didn't get the time to yank the blade free though as the second bandit was already upon him, Max narrowly ducking the club swing aimed for his head. As he stood back up, he slammed his fist into man's jaw, his years spent on a farm and traveling having helped him maintain a fair level of strength, all of which he focused into that uppercut. It lifted the bigger Nord off his feet and sent him clattering to the ground, laying still there.

With the second bandit seemingly down for the count, he yanked his blade from the dying bandit and rushed back toward Ranger. The battle axe wielding bandit was stopped in his tracks, clutching an arrow shaft sticking from his leg. Another bandit had a large Kyte shield, several arrow's sticking from the shield already. His feet were covered in steel, protecting his shins from Ranger's arrows.

That was when the Ranger spun on the spot, his weapon generally aimed at Max. Max didn't slow or hesitate, his mind screaming to trust Ranger in that moment. It turned out a good instinct, as Ranger's arrow ripped by him, a scream being followed by a meaty thud behind him.

The shield bearer lowered the shield to swing a mace attack to find Max's sword point whipping by his shield, sliding smoothly into his throat with one well placed thrust. Once Max had ripped his blade free from the corpse, he looked back to Ranger, who fired one more arrow into the wounded bandit's chest, right where the man's heart should be. The bandit Max had punched a moment ago was just feet behind Ranger, an arrow protruding from nearly the same spot.

"Nice shot Ranger." He spoke as he cleaned his blade and stored it back in its sheath.

"Thanks for the save." Ranger simply nodded to him, the small respectful gesture feeling as though it meant volumes between the pair.

It was barely mid-morning on their second day of travel from Riverwood, and they were now securely on the central plains that made up the majority of Whiterun hold. In fact, they had just over a half mile to the walls of Whiterun. For the most part, Max had been unable to get Ranger to say much more than he had been. He proved to have been quite useful though, easily starting a fire and cooking a meal from a rabbit he had killed on the way. Combined with the herbs and rations they had brought and it had been a fairly tasty meal. They had taken shifts all night to keep watch, just in case any other bandits were in the area, but it was good to see him sleeping. That said, his tossing and turning was more frequent than his sleep.

It didn't take the pair very long to cross the final stretch of the way to Whiterun, finding a rundown and weathered gatehouse, not even manned anymore. The path beyond wound back on itself before reaching a second gatehouse. This one had a massive gate inside it, a single guard standing before it.

"Gate's closed, head back where ever you came!" the guard shouted that before they could even approach, his hand loosely on his weapon.

"We've come from Helgan and Riverwood with news of the Dragon attack!" Ranger shouted that back, the guard startling back for a moment.

"What!?"

"You heard him, we're survivors of the attack on Helgan. We were sent here by Alvor the Smith of Riverwood to bring word to the Jarl!" Max spoke with as much confidence as he could muster as he continued to march forward.

"I… we better let you through then, OPEN THE GATES!" he screamed that over the wall, Max able to hear the gate's locks being undone. As soon as the dual doored gate began swinging out, he strode forward and through the gate, shocked to find not a soul in sight. So he marched on through the shockingly empty streets, only seeing a few guards on the streets. The gate made a loud crashing sound as it was slammed shut, drawing Max's attention to it, only to realize that Ranger was no longer with him.

What!? Where did he go!? He searched all around him for several moments before letting out a small sigh, shaking his head.

"Can't help it anyway…" he muttered that out before marching off into the city. It didn't take him long to make his way through the tightly packed homes, likely due to virtually no one being out and about. Surprisingly, no one was guarding the entrance to the palace, allowing Max to slip the huge door's open enough to step inside and close it behind him.

Once inside, he made his way up the tiered stairs, past two massive banquet tables, stopping just shy of the throne at the head of the room. There were several people surrounding the Jarl, all locked in a furious conversation. Except one. A dark elf had noticed Max approaching, blocking his path and drawing her blade.

"Who are you and what do you want!?" she snarled that out, her blade pointed for Max's throat.

"My name is Max, I've come from Riverwood with word on the attack in Helgan." He spoke as plainly and calmly as he could manage, though it likely didn't come off as such. He was having a hard time judging as he stared down the grooves on the blade.

"Calm yourself Irelith! Let the boy speak!" the Jarl shouted from his seat, not shifting position at all. His thunderous voice silenced those that had been bickering around him, the dark elf sheathing her blade and standing aside. "What news have you from Riverwood?"

"Alvor the smith is requesting aid in case of a dragon attack. Helgan was burned to the ground by one."

"Are you sure Helgan was destroyed by a Dragon?"

"Yes sir. I had a pretty good view of it from the headsmen's block. I'm not sure many people survived."

"Irelith, dispatch troops to Riverwood at once! Proventus-"

"If I may Jarl, why are we listening to this boy at all? This 'dragon' attack may be a ruse to lure us into the war! Jarl Siddgeir may even presume we are taking Ulfric's side and be planning to attack him! Besides, the boy himself just said he's a criminal!" a Redguard man dressed entirely in fine clothing spoke up from beside the Jarl.

"I will not stand idly by while my people are slaughtered! Despite what ever crimes he was charged with, this boy has sought us out to try and prevent another tragedy! I am inclined to believe him! Pay the lad some coin, and boy? If you want to do more for my people, go speak to my court wizard. He has need of someone to fetch something for him." The Jarl nearly shouted at his own man before shifting his attention back to Max.

"It would be my pleasure Jarl." Max immediately replied, the sound of being paid not once but twice seeming too good to be true.

"Here, fifty septims. Standard bounty pay. Farengar's workshop is in that alcove over there." Proventous spoke with a small hint of disgust while he shoved a coin purse into Max's hand.

Max thanked him none the less before turning and heading for the wizard's workshop, immediately spotting the man reading from what seemed like a dozen different texts.

"And who might you be?" the wizard didn't even look up from his books as he spoke.

"I was told you needed some one to fetch something for you?"

"Forgive me for saying, but you don't seem the type to be capable of fetching this particular item. And by 'fetch' I mean delve into an ancient Nordic ruin to retrieve a stone tablet that may or may not even be there." He set the book he was actively reading down, actually giving Max his attention.

"Hey, I survived a dragon attack? How bad can an old ruin be?"

"Wait, you actually saw a dragon!? And lived!?"

"Yeah. So what do you need me to retrieve?

"Oh… well, in that case, I need the Dragon Stone Tablet from Bleak Fall's Barrow. It's infested with Draugr and spiders, or so I've been told. Here. A sketch of what the Tablet should look like. I've never seen it myself so this could be wrong." He slid a small piece of parchment to Max, Max only giving the sketch a quick glance.

"Consider it done. It may take me a few days of prep before I go in, so if I'm not back in two weeks, consider me dead."

"That's fair. Do try to be quick about it though. Who knows how long we have until the next dragon attack."

Max nodded in response before snatching the sketch off the table and marching for the exit, both excited and terrified at having work to his name.