Olbert woke with a start, the dream already fading from his mind. He sat up quickly and raised a hand to the throbbing lump on the back of his head. Around him lay the remains of his caravan. Three broken wagons, one of them was burning. The smell of the smoke made Olbert cough.
He got to his feet unsteadily, and surveyed his surroundings. Not much remained of his caravan, save for a few broken crates of food. There was no sign of any of the others he had been travelling with, nor of the lone Imperial soldier the group had hired to be their bodyguard.
Olbert walked over to one of the broken food crates, and looked inside. Most of the produce had been smashed into pulp, but he managed to find a few non-bruised apples, which he placed in his pockets for later. He looked over the mountains, where the sun was rising. The caravan had been travelling at night, a terrible idea but they had been trying to get to Markarth before the produce went bad.
"Great, this is just…great." Olbert muttered to himself. "Here I am, stuck in the middle of nowhere with no weapons, no money, and no idea how to find my way back to civilization. Ah well. I won't find my way home by standing here and fretting about it"
He started walking down the gentile hill he was on, when a small pedestal a short distance away caught his eye. He hurried over to it and looked it over. It was old and worn, and looked to be Dwarven based on the yellow metal sculpting that was embedded into it. On top of it rested a rusted iron helmet, and a quiver containing a few arrows, also Dwarven by the look of them
"A helmet eh? Wish Id've had one of those earlier." Olbert chuckled to himself "Still, can't hurt to have it now at least."
He pulled the helmet onto his head, and was surprised at how well it fit. He also pulled the quiver over his shoulder. He'd never been much of an archer, but dwarven arrows were worth a fair bit of coin, even just these three arrows could fetch enough coin for a night at an inn and a hot meal.
"Quite a sight I must be" Olbert remarked "Wearing these old clothes along with this rusted old helmet"
After making sure there was nothing else of value, Olbert turned away and began walking down the hill again, keeping an eye out for any passing travelers.
"At least the weather is nice" He remarked "A bit of sun brightens even the worst of days"
With that, Olbert began to whistle. The song was "The Age of Aggression", a song he had heard many times in the inns of Skyrim.
After about fifteen minutes of walking, Olbert stopped suddenly and looked around. He could smell smoke, which hopefully meant people. After a few more minutes of walking, he found the source. A small camp was down a short cliff, with a fire pit and a few tents. Olbert quickly began to slide down the cliff in hopes of finding help, and maybe a hot meal and a bed where he could rest his aching head.
As he hit the ground at the bottom, one of the camp's occupants emerged from a tent. Olbert's heart sank. The man was wearing a strange headdress, with elk horns jutting out of both sides. The bandits who attacked the caravan had been wearing similar things.
"Well well, what have we here?" The man sneered, "A lost little lamb come to the slaughter?" The man cackled as he walked towards Olbert.
"Please, I don't want any trouble." Olbert began "My caravan was attacked by bandits and I-"
"Shut it." The man snapped. "You filthy Nords are always coming and taking what's ours. Your kind has no place here; the Reach belongs to the Forsworn!"
With that, then drew a sword and charged at Olbert. Quickly, Olbert grabbed the man's hand, and punched him in the face with his other hand, using all the force he could muster. There was a sickening crunch, and Olbert felt the man's nose break under his fist. The man stumbled backwards, blood already pouring down his face.
"I need some help out here!" The man yelled "We've got Nords in the camp!"
Quickly, two more figured rushed out of the tents, one brandishing a crudely made axe, and another with a bow. Olbert quickly turned on his heel and raced toward some trees. As he entered the small grove, an arrow hit a tree a few inches to his left. Olbert cursed and ran faster than he ever had. Soon the shouting of the others faded, and Olbert collapsed against a tree, panting and shaking.
After taking a few minutes to compose himself, Olbert got up and began quickly walking again, trying to put more distance between himself and the forsworn encampment. Eventually he found his way through the trees, and we greeted by a beautiful site. The trees ended on the edge of a cliff, and far below him was a tall waterfall, which dumped into a pristine lake.
"Wow." Olbert remarked "That is quite the sight."
"It is, isn't it?" A voice spoke up.
Olbert jumped so hard he nearly fell down the cliff face.
"Ha, easy there, friend. I didn't mean to startle you."
The voice belonged to another Nord, a hunter by the look of his attire. He was clad in various furs, and he had a bow slung over one shoulder. The hunter was sitting on a small wooden overhang, his legs dangling right over the water.
"Well met, traveler." The man said "You look troubled, is there anything I can do for you?"
"I was travelling with a caravan, and we were attacked." Olbert said. "I took a good knock on the head, and when I finally came around there wasn't much of anything left. No sign of any of the other merchants I was travelling with."
The man got up and put a comforting hand on Olbert's shoulder.
"Sounds like you've had quite the ordeal. The roads around here are not safe these days, those damned Forsworn have been raising hell for travelers lately, and the Jarl just sits on his throne and does nothing. Fat and lazy he is. What good is that damned man?"
The man was getting visibly upset, but then he relaxed and turned back to face Olbert.
"Ah, but you must be tired, and hungry too I'd wager; I think I can remedy that.. Come, follow me. My camp is this way, it's an old cabin used by many hunters in this area."
The man walked off, along the edge of the cliff, and Olbert followed. After a few minutes they arrived at a cabin. No other people were around, but a fair amount of items had been left on a table outside. Olbert walked over and began looking over it all. While the hunter had his back turned, Olbert picked up a steel dagger and slid it into his belt.
"Talos forgive me, but I am in desperate need of a weapon" Olbert thought. "If I had any gold I'd leave it here in place of this, but alas I do not."
"Now then, "the hunter said "Let's see about getting a hot meal. I've got some venison I can cook up, but it will be a little while. If you'd like, there's a bed in there you can get some rest on."
"That sounds great, thank you" Olbert said "Wake me up when the food is ready if you could."
Olbert walked inside the cabin and laid down on the lone bed. He didn't drift off to sleep, but he dozed a bit in the warm noon sun. After about an hour the hunter knocked on the cabin wall.
'Lunch is ready, come and get it."
"That smells divine" Olbert remarked as we walked out of the cabin. "By the Nine, I am hungry."
"Then come my friend, sit and eat. There is plenty of meat; the fields around here are ripe with game."
The food was magnificent. Olbert could not recall ever having venison that had been so expertly prepared. Plus the hunter had also prepared some baked potatoes, and a large pot of vegetable stew. Olbert ate more than he had in a long time, and by the end he felt as fat as the Jarl the hunter had mentioned before.
After lunch was finished Olbert got up and nodded at the hunter.
"Thank you my friend, I feel much better now. I wish I could stay longer, but I must try and find my way back to a town, the wilderness is no place for a blacksmith."
"Well my friend, I wish you luck. Keep your wits sharp, and your blade sharper, and may your fortunes improve."
With that, Olbert turned and walked out of the camp. He quickly found a footpath, and began to follow it, hoping it would connect to a main road. After a short walk, the path widened out, and off in the distance Olbert could see a cobble road.
As he walked towards it, Olbert noticed a Dunmer, a dark elf, standing off to the side the road. Once the elf noticed Olbert, he ran up to him and pulled a dagger out of his belt.
"Alright you, hand over all of your valuables or Ill gut you like a fish!"
Olbert let out a derisive laugh.
"Look at me, elf. Look at my clothes. Do I look like I have anything of value?"
"Everyone has something of value, even just a few Septims" The elf sneered. "Now give me everything you've got before this turns ugly!"
Olbert just sighed and pushed his way past the Dunmer.
"I don't have time for this, greyskin. Why don't you skulk back to Morrowind where you belong?"
"Don't you turn your back on me!" The Dunmer cried "I'll have your head for that!"
The elf charged at Olbert and raised the dagger he carried high. Olbert quickly turned around, caught the Dunmer's hand, and drew his own dagger from his belt. He twisted the Dunmer's arm backwards; the elf's dagger fell to the ground. Before the elf could even blink, Olbert's dagger was pressed up against his throat.
"Give me a reason" Olbert hissed. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you right now and rid Skyrim of your stink."
"You filthy Nord!" the elf screamed "I'll have your head on a pike and I'll have your entrails for my dinner!"
Olbert looked at the elf, twisting helplessly in his grasp, and he felt the anger rise. Everything Olbert had endured, the attack on his caravan, the strange Forsworn, it all came to the top of his boiling mind.
With a cry of rage, Olbert threw the elf to the ground, dropped to one knee, and sank his dagger into the Dunmer's heart. The elf let out a single choked gasp, and then went limp. Olbert yanked the dagger free, and wiped in clean on the grass before sticking it back in his belt. After that he patted down the thief, and found a small bag of Septims as well as a few gemstones. He stuffed all of that into his pockets and continued on his way.
After walking along the road for another two hours, Olbert was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of a dog whining. Off to the side of the road, a dirty grey dog, with fur matted in mud, lay there looking at Olbert and whining in a pitiful way.
"Well hello there, boy. Are you a lost traveler as well? Olbert asked
The dog jumped up and barked at Olbert, then quickly ran down a footpath a short distance. Then it turned, and barked at Olbert again as if encouraging him to follow. Olbert obliged, and followed the dog up to a small cabin. The dog raced inside the cabin, barking. Olbert ducked under the entrance and followed.
Inside the cabin was a lone table and a bed, and lying on the bed was man, dead. Olbert bent over the corpse. The Man hadn't been dead for long, less than a day by the looks of it, and the coloration of his skin could mean only one thing.
"Rockjoint." Olbert muttered "Poor man, laying here dying while being unable to move…"
Clasped in the dead man's hands was a ragged journal. Olbert pried it from the corpse and opened to the last page.
"Well, after all my years living in these woods, it looks like the Rockjoint will finally be the end of me. I guess that's fine. All my friends are long dead. The only one left is poor Meeko. He was always a loyal companion, and I know he'll be able to take care of himself. I hope someday I'll see him again."
Olbert laid the journal back on the man's chest and looked over at the dog.
"Meeko, huh boy?" he asked.
The dog barked in agreement and wagged its tail
"Well boy, it doesn't seem like there's much left here for you. How would you like to come along with me instead?"
The dog barked again, and jumped up to lick Olbert's face. Olbert laughed and scratched Meko's head.
"Well then boy, let's get going! There's a lot of land for us to see, and the journey has only just begun."