A Hitchhiker's Guide to Skyrim: Dragonborn

Prologue

The rain poured down heavily on the streets of Glastonbury, turning the roads to wide swathes of swift flowing water and the pavement was dotted with large puddles. It bounced off the shale roofs and dripped from the leaves of the beech trees that stood in the town park. The sky was a leaden grey and the streets were empty for all save one. A woman slogged through the downpour; her arms weighted down by large bags of groceries. The rain ran in rivulets down her yellow raincoat and dripped from her sodden hair. It squelched in her boots and she grumbled under her breath as she trudged along the streets, past shops and cafes, drugstores and restaurants. The buildings in this part of town were old, quaint-looking edifices painted in a myriad of colours ranging from deep brick reds to paste blues. All the market stalls had been packed away and all that was left were a few rain sodden crates lying in the alleyways between the buildings.

The only sounds were of the rain bouncing off the ground. It was a long trek to and from the grocery store, not made at all easy by the lofty location of her house atop one of the hills on the edge of town. It always rained around the festival; she should have remembered that. It was long known that the Glastonbury festival was always doomed to a deluge. It would have been easier if 'she' were still here with her car. But oh no, she'd decided to go off on that little trip of hers without so much as a by your leave and then didn't even have the common decency to come back. There hadn't been any phone calls, any letters, nothing. She might as well have disappeared off the face of the earth.

The woman swore and made a desperate grab for one of the bags which had developed a large tear in the bottom and cartons and bottles were now cascading down onto the pavement. She swore again and bent to pick them up. She stopped as a shadow fell over her and she saw a pair of heavy boots stop before her.

"A most unfortunate turn of events there," said a voice. It was low and seemed to demand a certain level of respect from all who heard it. She looked up and saw a man standing over her. He bent down and lifted one of the cartons.

"Allow me to assist you, Maylene," he continued. The woman froze where she knelt.

"How do you know my name?" she asked.

"I believe you know a friend of mine," replied the man, depositing the carton into her bag, "I've been looking for her for quite some time but so far she has eluded me."

"And who are you looking for exactly?" asked Maylene shrewdly, picking up another of the boxes and depositing it in the remaining shopping bag.

"I'm looking for Emily," replied the man. The woman snorted.

"Good luck with that," she said, "Left without telling anyone and then never bothered to come back. Went off on some trip or other. Heaven knows where."

"Actually, I was hoping you might help me to look for her," the man continued, "Now, what is it you beings like to go for to pass the time, a coffee, isn't it?" Something in the man's manner was strange. He dressed smartly enough but his choice of colours was, to say the least, outlandish. His beard was clipped close and his eyes were a bright, almost luminescent, green. They were alive with energy, alert and analytical, seemingly taking note of every detail in the young woman's face.

"I might help you," said Maylene cautiously, "I would like to know what happened to her myself." The man handed her the last carton which she dropped into her bag. "So, you know my name, what's yours?"

"You may know me as Matias," the man replied and he offered his arm to Maylene. She took it and followed him on down the street.