Ch. 1
As Ridley walked through the gate from the small town of Riverwood, he felt little remorse for refusing to get help. Not an hour before, he had been staring his own doom in the face, and now these fools expected him to go and speak to some Jarl? He felt his face contort into a dark scowl. He turned, and spat at the ground in front of the gate. Really, the only thing he had to thank the town for was the steel dagger he had nicked off of the blacksmith. Poor sap never even knew he was there. He supposed he was also grateful for the store owner, who's name he had forgotten. Those swords he had scavenged from the fallen Stormcloaks had been traded for a spell tome, which he planned on using as soon as he could. As he turned towards the road before him, thunder clapped overhead. His dark eyes turned to the sky, and saw that a storm had rolled in- and much faster than he had expected, too. He felt a small pang of fear in his chest, as he had little to nothing to protect him from the rain. He had neglected to take the armor off of any of those that he fought to ensure his freedom. He felt sure that he wouldn't need it, and now was going to pay the price. Deciding he had better get a move on, he headed off into the woods. Seemingly seconds after he stepped through the treeline, he felt the first few stinging drops of water strike the skin of his shoulders. He hoped that his nord blood would help him to survive this excursion, and set off once again. He stumbled blindly through the now pouring rain, keeping next to the river as much as he could. He kept his fingers moving in small shapes to keep them from locking up, and eventually came to a small clearing. Through the clouds, he saw a gleaming castle, surrounded by buildings and a high wooden wall. 'Whiterun,' he thought to himself. 'Looks like I am going to have to go there after all,' and he began his trek down the hill before him.
He had almost made it to the road, when he heard a noise in front of him. He quickly crouched, and dove behind a tree. To a passerby, he would have appeared to turn invisible on the spot. He gazed through a hole formed by roots, to see a hunter on the road towards Whiterun. He surveyed her, and came to a conclusion in his mind. He looked all around to find any guards that were near, and saw none. He ran, panting, out from behind his tree.
"Please, help me!" His black hair fell in soaking cords around his face, emphasizing his paleness. The hunter turned towards him, alarmed.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"Yes, please, help! Its my sister! She fell, I think she's broken her ankle!" Ridley spoke with the urgency that only a caring brother could have. The hunter, whose name was Ariella, knew that she could not refuse help to this poor young man.
"Oh, my! Take me to her, I have some potions that can help." Ridley bit his lip to keep from smirking.
"Come, quick!" And with that, he turned and ran off into the woods, Ariella close behind him. He ran deeper and deeper into the woods, the hunter behind him having to struggle to keep up. Then, she rounded a corner, and saw him standing still. She ran past him, expecting to find a wounded girl on the ground. She found nothing. She scanned the forrest before her, trying to find his sister.
"Where is she? I thought you said she needed help," she said.
"Oh, someone needs help, alright," spoke the voice from behind her darkly. She barely had time to react. Before she knew what was happening, she felt his hand wrap around her chin, pushing her throat out. She felt his arm wrap around her neck, and squeeze. Before she knew how to react, she had passed out.. Rypol let her body fall limply into his arms. He smiled, proud of his work, and dragged her into a nearby cave.
Once inside, he quickly removed his own clothes, feeling the cold air seep into him even more than before. He then proceeded to strip Ariella the hunter bare, trying to pay little attention to her well formed curves. He was a gentleman, after all. He dragged her limp form over to the back of the cave, and slid his old clothes over her naked form. He pulled her hide armor on over his head, which fit surprisingly well. He tugged on the leather gauntlets down over his hands, taking pleasure in the warmth. He tucked his feet into her fur boots, and wriggled his toes until the friction had brought back feeling to them. Lastly, he pulled the hood she wore over his head. He then took the time to sift through the bag she had worn at her hip, placing the items inside it before him. Looking them over, he found a pair of minor healing potions, a second steel dagger, a book entitled 'Brothers of Darkness,' a few hundred septims, a potion that bolstered frost resistance, and a cooked skeever tail. He picked up what he needed, and left the potion of frost resistance for her. He took it over to her limp form, and set in down in her hand. He lay a silent kiss on her cheek, and whispered, "Thank you ever so much for all the help, my dear." With that, he stepped out into the rain once again, and began to walk along the road towards Whiterun, a cheery smile on his face.