Chapter 3: Enter Riverwood

Ahmes had awoke with a groan and quickly realized that he was no longer lying on the ground, but within a small cabin with a warm blanket on the lower half of his body. He immediately looked down and noticed that his shirt was gone and his upper body had been covered in bandages. He tried to sit up but a hand gripped his shoulder and forced him back down. He was startled by the presence of another person, but was immediately hushed as the person spoke.

"Hey now, it's all right. Just lie down. I will tell Alvor that you have awoken," said the voice. Ahmes noticed through the softness and feminine voice, he could immediately tell that the voice belonged to a woman. Her voice seemed to belong to someone much older than himself though, as he could hear the faint trace of age through the voice's softness. He tried to get a better look of the figure that had walked out the room, but the candles inside weren't bright enough to see clearly. A few moments later, loud footsteps calmly passed through the door, and Ahmes could tell a man had sat in the chair beside him now.

"Good thing we have found ya, boy. You looked like you were seconds away from death's door when my daughter and her friend brought you here," The masculine voice said. Ahmes tried to form words but he realized that his throat was incredibly dry, and his voice had become raspy and painful to talk.

"Where am I?" he asked as the woman walked back into the room and handed a small wooden cup to Ahmes.

"Riverwood, my daughter, Dorthe, and her friend, Frodnar, found you lying on the ground half dead when they were hunting for food. They brought you back here as soon as they could and we got a couple doctors here to patch ya up." Ahmes recognized the name Riverwood, the village rested on the eastern bank of the White River, in the Whiterun Hold. He had attempted to memorize the Skyrim maps he had when he was a young boy, and he spent most of his time learning about all the places he wanted to go adventures on when he got older. He realized that he wasn't far from Helgen. After drinking from the cup, he realized that they had given him water to help his dry throat. He sat up slowly in the bed and got a closer look of the two people who helped him recover from his injuries. The man sitting on the chair was old; he guessed that he was probably in his sixties. The man's white hair and beard was somewhat scraggly, and he had tired brown eyes with a hard looking face that no doubt have seen many things. The woman had a light brownish color to her hair with small wrinkles and crow's feet decorating around her eyes. Her eyes were the same color as the man's and her face gave a look for concern for the young man.

"My name is Alvor and this is my wife, Sigrid," he said as her hand rested on his shoulder. "Dorthe will be back soon, we should try to set up dinner and make room for our guest," Sigrid said as Alvor nodded in agreement.

"Don't go anywhere, we don't want your wounds to open up now, do we?" he asked in a half threatening tone as the two stood and made way to the other room. Ahmes lay back down as he remembered what had transpired last time he was awake.

How long have I been out? Were there any other survivors? Just what was that thing? These unanswerable questions floated around his mind until his train of thought had been interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

"Mother! Father! I'm home!" a feminine voice yelled,

"Frodnar and I were chasing after a huge elk, but a frost troll got to it first, you should've seen it!" The voice explained as Ahmes heard her walk through the house. Sigrid's voice could be heard throughout the house,

"Dorthe! Back home just in time! We already set the table for dinner," Sigrid replied.

"Wait, mother, the table has been set for 4 people. Has he woken up?" Dorthe asked with a hopeful tone.

"Yes, he is awake and in the other room now, don't try to startle him. He only woke up a little while ago," she explained to the young woman. Dorthe had almost sprinted to the room where Ahmes laid. As she entered the room, Ahmes noticed her light brown hair whip around to the side. She sat in the chair beside Ahmes and looked down at him.

"Are you alright? You were badly injured when we found you," she said with concern in her voice. Ahmes noticed that this young woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, and that a war hammer rested on her back. She was not the most beautiful woman Ahmes had ever encountered, but she was definitely attractive. War paint was found on her cheeks and black eyeliner was around her eyes. Light brown eyes looked into blue ones for a moment before she looked away, embarrassed for staring. Ahmes lifted his legs slowly to the side of the bed, and attempted to stand but the severities of his injuries made him cry out in pain and fall backward on the bed. Dorthe reached out for the young man and helped him get on his feet.

"Yes, I am alright. Thank you," Ahmes said as he forced the pain away. Dorthe placed Ahmes' arm on her shoulders and helped Ahmes sit down at the kitchen table. Ahmes nodded and gave his thanks as he waited for food to be served. Across from him sat Alvor, and Dorthe took a seat to his right. A few seconds later, Sigrid entered with small plates of venison in each hand. She went back and forth and eventually the table was set. Only small amounts of food sat on the plates, but Ahmes didn't mind. Little food was better than none.

"My apologies, we would have more if Dorthe caught dinner for us this morning," Sigrid said as Dorthe shot a small glare at her mother,

"I told you, the frost troll got to it first!" she whined. Ahmes began to eat as the two women bantered for a little while until Alvor spoke up,

"What is your name young man?" he asked while the attention of the two woman turned to Ahmes.

"My name is Ahmes sir," he said shyly as he tried to look at anything other than the other people in the room. Alvor took a bite from his venison,

"Tell me, Ahmes, why exactly were you on the ground, covered in blood and half dead in the middle of nowhere?" Alvor asked as he continued to chew on his dinner. Ahmes was reluctant to tell them, worried that they might not believe him, but he realized that all he could offer was only the truth,

"I had come from the war," he said as silence spread throughout the table. The family stared at him as if he had three heads. "No one survives the war, and gets to tell the tale about it," Dorthe explained as her eyes widen from the fact that she sat in front of an enigma. Ahmes' eyes stared down to the floor, knowing what they would ask next. "What was it like?" Sigrid asked as she leaned forward in her seat, awaiting Ahmes' answer. Ahmes' eyes became lifeless as he debated whether to tell them what exactly made the Hunt so dangerous. "It was a nightmare. Everyone there had been massacred by it. I would've died to if it weren't for someone giving up his life to save mine," tears threatened to fall down his face. "I didn't even learn their names, and now…they're gone. Every last one of them slaughtered, by that thing!" He said with venom in his voice.

"What are you talking about? What thing?" Dorthe asked, afraid to hear the answer. Ahmes made a long sigh, not really sure how to explain,

"I don't really know what it was. It wore armor, black as night. The strength of its blade could cut down three men at the same time. Its eyes were blood red," he recalled as memories of the monster resurfaced. His heart sped up as he remembered every detail of it, as if he were looking at it as he talked about it, "It was faster, stronger, and angrier than anything I have ever seen. It even took its time killing people at the end, stabbing them slowly enough for them to feel the most excruciating pain," He stopped as the red eyes of his nightmare stared back at him through his memories. Fear gripped his heart and his body shook. Alvor reached across the table and touched his shoulder in comfort.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell us the rest." He said. Ahmes breathed a sigh a relief he didn't know he held in. He truly didn't want to remember it all again, he wanted nothing to do with that nightmare ever again. "May I ask something? Why choose to partake in the war? Surely you know it is a death sentence," Sigrid asked.

"It was either that, or stay at home and read books for the rest of my life. When I first decided to take part in the war, I thought it would be an adventure, that I would be fine. I didn't want to partake in a war that I didn't think I was a part of, but it became personal. My father went off to fight in the war when I was younger. Maybe I wanted to find or avenge him, maybe the unknown excited me…I don't know," Ahmes explained as he placed his palm to the side of his head. His appetite had been lost, and a small headache began to form in his mind. He remembered when Imperial soldiers came to his village and tried to get men to sign up to fight for the Second Great War against the Thalmor. The Second Great War had been going on a few years after the Empire had won against the Stormcloaks. With the Empire returning to power in Skyrim, an all-out campaign against the Thalmor had begun. The war had been going on for as long Ahmes could remember, and it had no signs of stopping anytime soon. And as the war raged on longer, the fewer amount of knights and good men were sent to fight. Seeing as the war was a lost cause, many nobles from the empire had no reason to send an able body army to fight a pointless slaughter. The most amounts of people sent to the War were only a mere hundred or so, most of which were rapists and thieves, with only a few good men leading it. When growing up, your choices were The Second Great War, live a boring farmer life, living off crops alone if weather permit, or to try your luck in the wilderness alone. He remembered many boys his age signing up and going to war, only to return as corpses. Ahmes didn't really think the war was really his problem. He never really knew any Thalmor, and he hated politics. All he ever cared about was the adventure he had been dreaming of. Ahmes stood up from his seat with pain running through his legs and upper body.

"I'm sorry, I have lost my appetite," he said sadly as he walked out into the night. He sat down on the porch in front of him, and Ahmes looked up at the night sky. The two moons above captivated him. He heard a door open behind him as Dorthe sat next to him.

"I'm sorry you had to talk about all of that," she said with an apologetic tone. Ahmes waved her off,

"It's okay, I would've asked too. It's not every day you find someone half dead on the ground. I am thankful you brought me in and helped me recover," He said with a smile. Dorthe turned away and smiled widely,

"Well, it's what anyone else in my position would do, and besides, Frodnar was the one who carried you back, not me," she said with modesty. Ahmes looked up in thought,

"I suppose so, either way, thank you," he said smiling again. Dorthe smiled back before looking up at the night sky,

"Beautiful night we have," she said, admiring the sight of the night sky above her. Ahmes looked up and remembered the monster that almost killed him. He found it harder to find things beautiful now that he knew that demon still walks the earth. Ahmes made an inner vow that he would get revenge for his fallen comrades one day.

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