Disclaimer: I do not own or make any claim to the Elder Scroll's universe, Skyrim or otherwise, or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by Bethesda. This is simply my interpretation of some events within the game universe.

[AN: Sorry for the wait, I hadn't intended to take this long, but when I posted this first chapter, I had believed that I had final fixed my game's love of crashing every 15 minutes.

Turns out I was wrong.

That sort of killed my desire to play the game and this story got forgotten somewhat.

But, I've remembered it once again and I always intended to finish this story, and so I will, it just likely won't feature regular, predictable updates...

Anyway, here's the next chapter, shorter than I'd like, but it's mainly background.

Also, I've added a simple piece of cover art, which should provide a hint as too Kiern's background. I'll update the image as I work on it./AN]

Adrianne Avenicci:

I still don't know what to make of that elf, though one thing's for sure, he knew his way around a forge.

Yesterday, I was coming down to the shop early, to finish that work on the Jarl's sword, you remember? Anyway, there he was, waiting near the tanning racks; put me on guard for a bit, too, I hadn't seen a new face in Whiterun since the Dragon rumours started flying, and he was definitely a new face. Besides, polite as he was, there's something about him that sends a chill up your spine.

He was wearing the most hodge-podge kit I've seen in a long time; some crude leather armour with a bit of chain-mail tacked on and lots of fur sticking out, but I guess Skyrim's a far cry from Valenwood, huh?

Anyway, the guy comes up and introduces himself, calls himself 'Kiern'(a pseudonym if ever I've heard one, but it's not my place to question what a man calls himself), and asks if he can use the forge; even offers to pay me for it. Now, I've never met a wood elf that knows which end of the hammer to hold so I was more than a little hesitant to let him anywhere near my equipment, but I said that if he could show me he knew what he was doing, then he could use it free of charge. I decided to go easy on him and asked him to make a simple iron dagger, and boy was I in for a surprise.

Two hours later and one of the best balanced iron daggers I've ever seen in my life is in my hand, he'd even managed to double bevel the blade; that's not something an amateur would even think of, let alone accomplish. After that I figured I could trust him around the forge and we spent most of the day working around each other, with him occasionally popping into the store and purchasing some materials. He was still working well into the night when I left, but he had already produced a fine Cyrodilic wooden recurve bow, a full quiver of hardened steel arrows, a large pack, a belt and bandolier set, and he was working on what looked like a pair of steel short-swords.

It's been a long time since I've had another smith working that forge with me, even if he was the quiet sort, and even longer since I've seen one use Cyrodilic designs, even if there was some distinct elvish influence in the blades. I was hoping he would be back today, it would have been interesting to discuss some ideas with him and maybe see what old Eorland would make of him, but it looks like he's moved on, just leaving a note asking that the skins he strung up on the tanning rack be kept until his return or until a week has passed, whichever comes first; he even left a small pouch of gold coins as thanks.

I guess we'll see if he makes it back, and if he does, he's welcome to the forge any time he sees fit.

[AN: Thanks for reading and I hope you've found it at least vaguely interesting or worth your time.

All feedback is great and, as much as I hate to resort to this, it does encourage us authors to write more.

Thanks for reading! /AN]