Chapter 1 - A Stranger in Town

I let the frigid water of the river wash the blood from my calloused hands as I eyed a rabbit that was hopping along down the bank on the other side. I wished I had my bow just then, for I would love to see if I could get an arrow through that rabbit from this distance. I had hunted much bigger game in the land around Riverwood, but anything would be better than working at the lumber mill just now. My hands were hardened from having worked here and many other odd jobs over the years, but despite this, they would still occasionally crack and bleed if I didn't wear gloves the entire time.

After my hands felt soothed and numb from the chill of the water, I stood and dried them on the sides of my gray pants as I ran my eyes along the river bed. My eyes wandered up the white-capped mountains and rested on Bleak-Falls Barrow. I had never been up there – we were never allowed as kids – and besides, it was very dangerous according to all of the elders in Riverwood. I was now twenty years old myself, born on the seventeenth of Sun's Dusk, and even now everyone still warns of the 'evils' of Bleak-Falls Barrow, as if the 'evils' are real and that I'm still a child who believes in such things. If I had to guess, they were simply some abandoned ruins that contain, at worst, some skeevers or wolves. Nonetheless, I never scaled the mountain to see for myself, and I figured I should stick to my hunting excursions anyhow.

Hod called from up on the mill, pulling me out of my thoughts, "Jol, my boy. You're free to go, you've done enough work for the day. I'll let Gerdur know to mark your hours down in the book." The yellow-haired man was about as sturdy and Nordic as one could be, right down to the accent he spoke with.

I called back, "Thank you, Hod. And give my thanks to Gerdur for the apple pies she sent me home with the other day, they were delicious!" Hod nodded and waved as he turned to head home.

I turned around to face the cabin that I lived in. It was very close to the mill, not even a five minute walk. The sun was beginning to set, so it would be time for supper soon. I arrived at the cabin and opened the wooden door, which produced a distinct creaking sound that had always been there for as long as I could remember. I shut the door behind me and was greeted with the warmth of a lively fire in the fireplace, crackling away as its flames danced about to no particular rhythm. My brother, Cal, was sitting in a chair he had pulled up next to the fireplace with his feet propped up on another chair and reading Power of the Elements. He liked to read, especially books about magic. He didn't really believe in 'magic' or 'magicka' as it was often called, and neither did I, but he still found it fascinating for some reason.

Looking up from his book for just a moment, he said, "Hey, Jol. How were things at the mill today?" He returned his eyes back to the book, thumbing to the next page.

I shrugged, even though he was no longer looking at me, "Same as always. Hod was very quiet today, though. Didn't tell any of his typical stories of his travels back in the day. He almost looked worried about something."

"Maybe it's the dragons again!" Cal said with a snicker.

"No, nothing like that. He would have been jumping out of his skin if the dragon came back." A dragon did attack the town a long while back, just a little over a year ago, and allegedly a man claiming to be 'Dragonborn' passed through the village. Of course, the one time in my entire life where something truly interesting happens in Riverwood, Cal and I happened to be off on a hunting excursion deep in the forest and missed the whole thing. I want to be skeptical that this dragon thing ever even occurred, but all of the older people in the village say it's true. On top of this, guards sent by the Jarl were roaming around when we got back from our week-long hunt, which never happened before. Either way, it's been a year now since then, and the only other thing I've heard is that this Dragonborn has slipped in and out of Riverwood discreetly on several occasions. I just don't know, though. I've never seen him myself, nor do I understand why he'd need to be so secretive.

"Maybe Hod's been in communication with the Stormcloaks recently," Cal joked again.

I shrugged again, "So what if he has? Even if he were a Stormcloak himself, he's still a good man."

This time Cal actually looked up from his book and met my eyes, "You know, when father gets home you're going to have to figure out what to do about your acquaintance with Hod and Gerdur."

"If he gets home," I replied, looking down from his gaze for a moment, "Besides, there's no actual proof to show that they support the Stormcloaks, and–"

Cal cut me off, "Our father is risking his life as we speak by fighting Stormcloaks right now. Do you think he's going to care about proof? The rumors about Hod and Gerdur have been around for a long time."

I was getting angry, "Who cares about rumors? They are good people."

"Everyone cares about rumors in this village, that's all there is!" Cal's voice was raised. He sighed, and went on in a more moderate tone, "Look, Jol. I don't necessarily agree with the war myself. Not either side of it, really. To me, it all just sounds like a lot of fighting and killing for nothing. But father is a full-blooded Redguard. He is very stubborn and his opinions about everything – including Hod and Gerdur – have been set for a very long time."

Our father wasn't just a full-blooded Redguard. He actually grew up and was trained in the ways of his people by learning to fight and survive in the Alik'r Desert of Hammerfell. He doesn't talk much about the past and how he ended up in Skyrim, or Riverwood no less, fell in love with a Nord woman, and fathered two boys on his own after our mother had passed from a fatal illness when I was only two years old. All I know is that he joined the Imperial army long ago, gained a lot of rank and trust with the imperials, and was assigned to assist in stifling the Stormcloak rebellion here in Skyrim. And with that, his Redguard blood ensues a very stubborn foothold in his beliefs towards any and everything, including a powerful hatred towards the Stormcloaks and their "petty" war. Cal and I, being half Nord and half Redguard, were at least a little less stubborn. We thought we were, at least. Others would argue that this combination made us far more stubborn.

"I know, I know. He won't be pleased to see I've befriended them. But I must stand my ground this time. He's been gone since before the whole dragon incident happened, so he's just going to have to accept that things change with time. Especially if he's going to leave for years at a time to fight in some stupid war." I took a deep breath. I truly did not care if Hod and Gerdur really were affiliated with the Stormcloaks, for they had both been kind to me and let me work at their mill to make something of a living on my own. Not to mention, I honestly thought the Stormcloak's motives were actually justified to some degree. But the very thought of my father knowing I thought so made me shudder. To confront him regarding why I now work for the two people he always told me to stay away from was going to be no easy thing.

Cal spoke again when he saw I was getting lost in thought, "Hey, let us not worry about it now. Father might not be home for another year. Or maybe he comes home next week. No matter which it is, that is a worry you can save for when the time comes."

As I nodded and gave a short smile, there was a knock on the door. Just after, it opened with its signature creak and Garren stepped into the house. He was a tall, oddly thin Nord with blonde hair. He was my age and had grown up with us in Riverwood. He spurted excitedly without even greeting us, "There's a stranger passing through! He's staying at the Sleeping Giant for the night. We've got to go there tonight, I want to meet this lad!" He sounded out of breath, as if he ran here to tell us this.

Cal and I glanced at each other, and Cal asked, "A stranger? People pass through all the time, at least a few times a month. Why do you seem so worked up?"

"No, not just any stranger," Garren caught his breath, then continued, "I heard he's a sellsword! He's carrying around some fancy looking sword, not like the ones the guards have, and he's got that sort of dark look you'd imagine a sellsword having. And his armor, you've got to see it! I bet he's got stories, and I'd like to hear them!"

In Riverwood, interesting people were always the talk of the town if they passed through. One time, an Argonian came through and almost the entire village tried packing into the Sleeping Giant Inn just to get a look at him. I looked at Cal, "What about supper?"

"Supper can wait," he replied, "It's just a stew, so it'll be fine to let it sit. Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing this fellow for myself."

We all exchanged childish smiles, and Garren said, "Let's go!"

We filed out of the cabin and headed towards the inn at a brisk pace. It was already much darker than when I had come in from working, for the last bit of sunlight was already fading over the western mountains. As we walked, we took turns speculating why the sellsword might be passing through Riverwood, where he might be heading, how many people we thought he'd killed, and other things of that sort. We had no real information about the alleged sellsword, but that never stopped us from speculating. I couldn't help but feel full of energy. We lived for nights like these, where something actually came along to interrupt the daily routines we'd fallen into over the years. That's usually what me and Cal's hunting trips were for, to give us a way to break up the long weeks of working at the mill, or in Cal's case, assisting Alvor with his forge.

As we approached the steps to the inn, a guard passing by that reeked of ale mumbled, "You boys stay out of trouble now, you hear? Have an extra drink for me, gotta' stay sharp for my watch as always." He chuckled to himself after we acknowledged him, and he continued his patrol down the main road through Riverwood. We walked up the stairs to the inn, and I yanked the door open, with Cal and Garren stepping in right behind me.

The energy in the room was rather lively as we looked around. Sven was playing a lute and singing "The Age of Aggression" as Camilla danced about with Alvor's daughter, Dorthe, both of them giggling loudly. Embry, the village drunkard, was off in a corner by himself and mumbling over a mug of ale. At a table just across the fire in the center of the room, Lucan Valerius was having a drink and chatting with Faendal. Faendal saw us entering the inn, holding his mug up slightly with a nod and smile towards us before turning back to his conversation with Lucan. Faendal had always been a good friend to Cal and I, as he was the one who'd taught us much of what we know about shooting a bow. Of course, my father didn't care for our friendship with him given that Faendal was a Woodelf, but Cal and I always disregarded his disapproval as we saw no reason to dislike him. Upon looking over at the bar, I noticed the stranger for the first time.

"That's him, right there!" Garren whispered as he gestured towards the man.

"Yeah, we see him, Garren," Cal muttered, "Look at that armor! I've never seen anything quite like it."

The man had what appeared to be leather armor that was dyed as black as night, and black hair that fell to his shoulders with a small strand of it tied right in the middle and hanging down the back of his head. Instead of having his sword sheathed at his waist, it was slung across his back alongside his bow. The sword was much longer than the ones the guards carried, and it curved slightly instead of running straight. I could have sworn that for a moment, both the man's sword and black armor had a sort of shimmer to them, like a film of light coating them, and then it disappeared. I figured it must be the way the light in the room was catching his form. When I looked at Cal's face for a moment, judging by his curious expression, he must have noticed the strange shimmer as well. Garren simply looked excited, eyes widened as he nearly bounced on his feet.

"Let's go greet ourselves!" Garren let out as he took a step forward.

Cal and I both placed our hands on his shoulders before he took another step, and Cal said quietly, "How about we just sit down for now and mind our business. He's just a man like you and I anyhow, even if he is some kind of sellsword."

"Just a man! Did you see that sword? I bet he's fought dragons with that thing!"

I spoke this time, "No, Cal is right. I would be very intrigued to speak to him myself, but we can't just go over there and interrupt him."

Garren let out a sigh, but gave in and came with us to the end of the room, each of us taking a seat at one of the many old, worn tables. We carried on our banter and speculation about the stranger, and after some time Delphine brought each of us a mug of ale. While she set the mugs on the table, she joked with my brother about needing to find himself a wife as she always does. Cal was a couple of years older than me, so many of the older women in the village would bother him about finding himself a woman so someone could look after him. Some of them acted like they wanted to look after him themselves.

I glanced up at the bar again, seeing Orgnar say something with a laugh and the stranger barking a laugh as well as he slapped his hand on the counter. After Orgnar handed him a new mug, the stranger turned around slightly to face the rest of the room as he finished chuckling. His face looked very stern, with a chiseled jawline and dark eyes, shadows seeming to surround them. A large, deep scar ran from the center of his forehead, across his eye and down to his left cheek. As his dark eyes scanned the room, they stopped when he saw me looking, and I could swear his eyes lingered on me for just a moment too long. He looked faintly puzzled, and even more so when Cal looked over in his direction. The expression quickly faded, as if he was trying to hide it.

He walked towards our end of the inn, a walk that seemed to carry a sense of pride and formality. I warned out of the side of my mouth to the others, "He's coming over here."

Cal and Garren looked up just as the man was standing over our table. Cal studied the man's face carefully, while Garren stared stupidly with his eyes wide open. The man spoke in a deep voice, "Might I join you boys for just a moment?" We all nodded. He grabbed a chair from a table behind him and pulled it up to our table. He set his mug down and leaned in, "I'm Borrin Terius. Just wanted to make sure I introduced myself, seeing how I noticed you all staring at me from across the inn." I darted my eyes towards the others nervously, and they were doing the same.

After what felt like a long pause, Cal spoke up, "I'm Calanon Al'Kri. Cal for short. Forgive us for staring, we just don't see a lot of strangers around here and I think the excitement got to us." Borrin's eyes seemed to twitch for a moment when Cal spoke our last name.

Borrin held a hand up slightly as he spoke, "That is quite alright. And what about you two? Your names?"

"I'm Garren Yvaris," Garren said before blurting, "Is it true, what they say?"

Borrin's eyebrows furrowed, "Is what true, boy?"

Garren began, "You know, that you're a sell- "

I interrupted Garren, "I'm Jol Al'Kri, Cal's brother."

Borrin looked at Cal, and then back at me, "I can tell. You two've got the same look. If I had to guess, you both look to be at least partially Redguard. Where are you boys from?"

I answered, "We're both from right here in Riverwood. But our father is from Hammerfell."

"Ah. And your mother is a Nord, I assume?"

"Was a Nord," Cal answered, "She passed when we were very young."

Borrin looked into his mug, "I'm sorry to hear that." He looked back up at us after a pause, "Your father... What is his name?"

Cal responded again, "Nalhrin Al'Kri. He fights for the Imperial army."

Borrin stared at Cal for a moment, looking as if something was bothering him, "Hm. Well, a half Nord, half Redguard is certainly not something you see every day, especially in a small village such as this." I found it somewhat strange that he moved on so quickly, but disregarded it.

Garren asked him, "Are you from here in Skyrim?"

"That I am not. I'm Imperial, from Cyrodiil."

"Do you serve the Empire?" Cal seemed mildly cautious as he asked this, given the recent civil war.

"Used to," Borrin answered shortly. "I found that I didn't fit in, so I left."

"What do you mean?" Cal probed.

Borrin shook his head, "It is too long a story. Too complicated to tell over a mug of ale."

I could tell he didn't want to say any more on the subject, and took this opportunity to change the subject slightly, "What is it that you do now?"

Borrin leaned back in his chair and began after a sigh, "Well, I travel. I explore anywhere I can that I haven't been, or search for people and things that fascinate me. I seek knowledge, sights, and acquaintances."

"That sounds absolutely wonderful. I wish I could travel around like that," Cal said, staring into his ale after a large swig.

"And why can't you?" Borrin asked.

"Well, I don't know. It just, it wouldn't be-"

I finished Cal's words, "Practical. How do you make a living?"

"Practical?" Borrin set his mug down again, "Forget practical. If you're constantly on the move, you don't really need to make a living. As far as I'm concerned, seeing new things, meeting new people, that is living. And besides, there are plenty of odd jobs and ways to make gold along the way." This sounded strange coming from a man wearing the most ornate armor I had ever seen.

"Fair enough," Cal responded, "But what brings you here? What is it around here that fascinates you?"

"Dragonborn," Borrin replied promptly.

Cal, Garren and I all looked at each other, and I spoke, "Dragonborn? How do you even know he is real?"

It was Borrin's turn to look confused. He furrowed his eyebrows and squinted his shadowy eyes at all three of us, "Are you joking?"

"Well, no," I responded, "none of us have actually seen him. Orgnar claims he's come to the inn in the middle of the night before, but Orgnar likes to tell stories. Plus, even he says he's never seen Dragonborn do a Shout."

Borrin only looked more confused, "Forgive me, but didn't a dragon attack this very village?"

Cal said, "Yes, that's what everyone says. Jol and I weren't here to see it, though. Anyhow, dragons are just creatures. That's different from a mere man claiming to do powerful magic simply by way of his voice."

"I saw it, I was here when it happened!" Garren tried to interject, but Borrin continued.

"You boys really haven't left your village at all, have you? Have you even journeyed to Whiterun? Riverwood is a part of Whiterun Hold, after all."

"We have," I said with a tinge of irritation, "We went with our father to Whiterun many times when we were boys, and we've been a few times on our own in the past few years. Cal and I also go on hunting trips all the time."

Borrin laughed, "Ah, quite the travelers now, aren't we?" He laughed more, but I didn't understand what was so funny. "Look, you can't acknowledge that dragons exist and then turn around and say Dragonborn can't be a real man."

"And why is that?" I asked.

"You see, when dragons breathe fire, or ice, or what have you, that itself is using the Thu'um. Or the Voice, as many call it. It is exactly the same power that the Dragonborn wielded to defeat Alduin, amongst many other feats." Borrin took a deep drink from his mug and leaned back in his chair again.

"I read that in a book once. About dragons and using the Voice, I mean. But is it really true?" Cal leaned in with a curious expression as he asked this.

"That it is," Borrin responded without hesitation, leaning back into the table slightly, "Anyhow, you ask what I am doing here? I'm here to see Dragonborn. He is to be in Whiterun in two days, being celebrated by Jarl Balgruuf and the whole city. A man who defeats dragons and absorbs their souls is definitely a man that I want to see." He took a final drink from his mug, tilting his head back to let the last drops fall into his mouth. He looked at the empty cup with an expression of admiration as he seemed to roll the ale on his tongue before swallowing. I always heard from outsiders that Riverwood made excellent ale, so that probably explained his behavior. Then he said, "You boys should come with me. Get out of your little village for once."

Garren lit up, "You'd let us come with you?"

I was hesitant, "I don't know that that's such a good idea, I've got to help out at the mill and Cal's supposed to be at the forge with Alvor tomorrow." I looked over at Cal expecting him to be in agreement, but he was smiling. "What, are you thinking about going?"

"Aren't you?" Cal said, "What could it hurt? Just one little trip to Whiterun. We haven't been in years!"

"It'll only be for a few days, and besides, I could use the company. It's often dull traveling alone for so long," Borrin said with an amused look on his face.

I sighed, but then I gave in, "Alright, if it's just for a few days. It'd be nice to see the city again. I am a little sick of trees anyhow. And I'll have to let Hod know that I won't be at the mill for a few days."

Garren and Cal were pleased to hear me agree, patting my back with big smiles on their faces. Borrin stood up, "Well, I best get some rest for the journey. It's a good ten to twelve hour hike if you're on foot and walking. You three should go and rest too if you're really coming. Pack up and meet me at first light at the north end of the village." He paused to think for a moment, "You two said you hunt, did you not? I assume that means you have bows?" Cal and I nodded. "Excellent, bring those with you, and a good stock of arrows. I wouldn't mind seeing how well you two can shoot. There might be wolves, anyhow."

Garren said excitedly, "I got a sword my Da gave to me! Should I bring it?"

"Sure," Borrin said, "maybe I can teach you a few things about how to use it while we're on the way."

Borrin walked off to his room, and I turned to Cal and Garren, "Well, it looks like we're going to see the infamous 'Dragonborn' once and for all." The three of us stood from our seats and exited the inn together. We chattered about what we needed to bring with us and how exhilarating the trip was going to be with the company of an adventurer. Cal and I parted ways with Garren when it was time to turn towards our cabin. I took a deep breath of the cold, refreshing air as I continued to daydream about tomorrow's journey.