Disclaimer: I own neither the Elder Scrolls nor The Inheritance Cycle. They belong to Bethesda Softworks and Christopher Paolini respectively.

A bird, a robin, flew through the cold air, holding in its feet a set of dry autumn sticks and leaves. Landing upon a branch of an oak tree, it laid the twigs and leaves onto its nest, before hopping around to the other side of the branch. Tipping its head, it observed the four azure eggs sitting within its nest, pleased at the sight of its unborn children. It raised its beak, before letting loose a few tweets, singing its pleasant song.

Suddenly, it broke off its song, cocking its head to the side, instantly alert. A certain crackle in the atmosphere, some sort of… anomaly, burst into existence below the robin's tree, and immediately the robin was in the air, attempting to escape from any potential danger, yet aware that its eggs lay in peril.

Seconds later, the anomaly disappeared altogether, and the robin returned to its nest, eager to protect its eggs, before turning its head back to where the blue light once was. In its place lay some sort of mound of cloth, black and unmoving. A few meters to the side, another mound sat, this one a glistening ice white, its four legs ending at firm, dark hooves. To its front, the robin could see several animals nearing the mounds in the darkness, curious as to whether they would find food in these sudden appearances. The mound of black, however, felt no need to be consumed, and it rustled, moving slightly. A groan emerged from the cloth, before it sat up to reveal a man, a sword at his back, a bow slung across, and a quiver full of arrows at his hip.

By the Nine Divines, my head feels like a giant used it as a club…Haleth groaned again as his stomach churned, before rubbing his pained head. And my stomach feels as if it took a ride through Oblivion and back. . .Setting his pains to the side, Haleth stood up, his legs protesting at the movement, then stretched, his various weapons clinking and clattering as he did so. Satisfied, the Dragonborn looked around the forest, his keen eyes adjusting to the growing darkness of the twilight.

Sun is going down, air is cold—seems to be a mid-autumn evening. Where in Oblivion am I? Haleth looked up into the sky, hoping to see the moons Masser and Secunda - only to find that there was only one moon in the night sky, unfamiliar and foreign. Haleth's eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly, before the memories of his last night seeped back in.

Lorkhan came to me while I meditated, said something about a dying world, Magnus, the Aedra and the Daedra… Am I in Lorkhan's world now? It certainly isn't a realm of Oblivion—or is it? Lost in thought, Haleth continued to stare into the sky, before movement to his right caught his eye. The white mound with hooved legs that had appeared with him rose slowly, to reveal a muzzle and two intelligent, graceful eyes.

"Ah, Frost." Haleth approached the mare, a smile reaching his lips. "Nice to see that I'm not alone here, it's good to have you with me. Have you any idea where we are?"

In response, Frost snorted, her legs shaking slightly on the still unfamiliar ground. This was not Tamriel—this was nowhere on Nirn, she suspected. Still, she had her human, and if the man-dragon was safe, then she was satisfied.

"Oh, I didn't think you would. I suspect we may be in Lorkhan's world, though you probably know nothing of my meeting with the dead god." Haleth turned away from the horse, his eyes latching on to a set of lights in the distance. A town of sorts, most likely, as Haleth's sharp, attuned ears could catch the sound of voices in the distance, the rolling wheels of carriages and the clip-clop of horses and mules. "Well, my dear horse, where there is a civilization, there is likely to be information, and with information, we can get a feel for the land, see what Lorkhan wanted us to do in the first place."

Frost snorted quietly, before trotting up to Haleth, as if waiting for him to mount her. Haleth saw this and shook his head, chuckling quietly.

"No, I don't think it'd be a good idea to ride you, Frost." He looked down at his attire—a modified Thieves Guild leather cuirass, dyed black, similar black boots and gloved bracers, and a linen cloak of the same color. His face was covered by both a hood and facemask, and his weapons shined in the waning light. "If this world is similar to our last, then I suspect it is usually the nobles, knights, or otherwise that ride into cities, and we definitely do not look the part. Come, Frost, I'll just lead you."

With that, Haleth grabbed hold of Frost's bridles, gently pulling her along as he walked towards the road. The two made their way towards the town, and Haleth could not help but notice the troupe of men making their way towards the town with them.

The majority of the men wore leather brigandine armor riveted with steel plate and chainmail shirts over gambesons of red, and overall looked both disciplined and deadly. They were armed with a variety of weapons, while most of them carried leather-bound heater shields and either arming swords or maces. Several, however, were armored in heavier suits of plate and leather, and carried polearms, longswords, and even the occasional arbalest. Another group of them were clothed in lighter gambesons over red tunics and cloaks, and wielded longbows—obviously the ranged support. Eleven in total. A couple of them flashed suspicious looks and glares at Haleth, and the Dragonborn averted his gaze, not wishing to garner their wrath. He needed to stay as incognito as possible, and these men were likely of some sort of military—the guard, perhaps, or the army of some kingdom in this land.

Haleth's guess was proven correct when, upon reaching the town gates at the same time as the soldiers, a voice called them out, labeling them as "soldiers of His Majesty's Imperial Army." Thus, an empire of sorts—probably encompassing the entirety of this land. The town itself was guarded by a myriad of other soldiers, likely guards, clad in red leather over varied tunics.

Haleth could feel the eyes of many on him, and looking around, could see that many of the townsfolk, guards, traders, and others were staring at him. Most likely due to his apparel and Frost—not many would clad themselves in such black clothing, cloaks, and masked hoods, fewer still would own a horse of Frost's breed, and even fewer still would carry the variety of weapons Haleth wielded—in total, an ebonsteel longsword at his back, his ash longbow slung across his shoulder, a dagger sheathed at his left shoulder, and one final dagger holstered on his thigh.

All in all, a very suspicious look. Haleth, in his haste to get to the town, had not considered himself. And thus, he was not surprised when one of the guards eyed him, before stopping Haleth in his tracks.

"Halt there, citizen. State your business, or be gone."

Haleth gazed into the guard's eyes, judging the man's character. A desperate guard, it seemed, who only wished to carry out his duty so that he could feed his family. No doubt the man would do anything to provide for his wife and children—even go against his own law. Haleth simply smirked under his mask, before lowering it to reveal his mouth.

"Simply a trader, of course."

In response, the guard raised an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. "And what sort of trader would require the likes of your clothing? Where is your caravan, your wares, anything?"

"Oh, my apologies. I'm not the one who does the trading, I'm simply the caravan guard. My client is somewhere behind on the road—he happened upon a customer, and sent me ahead to make sure we had passage into the town."

The guard frowned, but Haleth could see that he was at least a little bit convinced. Still, though, the man remained suspicious. "And what sort of caravan guard would dress himself like you? And with all those weapons?"

At this, Haleth frowned in turn. He did not know enough of the land to make a solid bluff, and it was likely the guard would see right through it anyways. He was never the charismatic sort, unlike Brynjolf. Thus, Haleth leaned in close, gesturing for the guard to come closer. Bringing out a small satchel, Haleth opened it to reveal a collection of gems and jewels inside, glistening under the pale moonlight. "That is not of your concern. But, I'm sure this paltry sum would change your mind." Haleth angled the satchel towards the guard, making sure that he could see every single jewel inside. Garnets, amethysts, sapphires, and even the one emerald. Haleth watched the guard's face change slightly, doubt filling the man's gaze. He obviously did not want to perform illicit actions, yet the pressure of his family overwhelmed him. After a few seconds, the guard nodded, before taking some jewels from the satchel and stepping back again.

"Very well, you may pass. Beware, however, that the guard is always watching. Take care not to anger us."

Haleth nodded back, before grabbing hold of Frost's bridles, moving through the crowd into the town. Once inside, Haleth looked around, before taking note of several buildings.

First, what looked to be a forge or a workshop, from which heat radiated. However, Haleth saw that the forge was not for weapons nor armor—it was a civilian workshop. Haleth would not neither arms or gear there. Moving on, Haleth saw what looked to be a market, though the various vendors were closing their shops, a trader, and what looked to be a chancery. Several men, seemingly couriers, entered and exited the chancery, spreading word of such things as "postmasters," "bounties," "dragons," and "rebels." Interesting.

Finally, Haleth's gaze fell upon a building of wood and thatch, where the sounds of merrymaking, drinking, and laughter emanating inside. Haleth smirked, having found his quarry, and guided himself and Frost to what he determined to be the inn or tavern. Finding a small place to tie and keep Frost, Haleth bade the mare farewell, before entering the tavern itself.

Inside, Haleth was hit with the sudden smell of alcohol and food assaulting his nose and the sounds of reveling and laughter filling his ears. With his entrance, however, the noise seemed to die down, as the patrons of the tavern took notice Haleth. Within seconds, though, the place returned to normal, its inhabitants once more ignoring the Dragonborn. Haleth caught of a particular corner, dark, lit by a single candle, and walked over, sitting down at a table in a position that allowed himself to watch over the rest of the tavern. He adjusted his hood and mask, while motioning for one of the barmaids to come over.

The barmaid, a buxom woman of about twenty, arrived at his table. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Haleth did not answer for a few seconds, before taking out another satchel, this one smaller than the last, yet still filled with jewels. Taking out several of the precious stones, Haleth put them on the table, before finally looking at the woman. "Do you think that I could exchange these for some coin? It would help if I had some actual currency on me, instead of these rocks."

The woman hesitated, stuttering at the sight of the gems on the table. "I-I guess we could, I mean… these are jewels, aren't they? I reckon I could give you maybe three hundred crowns for these, if we could sell them at a greater price."

"Give me as many crowns as you think these gems would cost, then do with them as you will. And get me an… an ale, while you do that."

The barmaid nodded, still flustered, but left. A few minutes later, she returned with two satchels full of gold coins and a bottle of alcohol, before leaving once more. Pocketing the satchels of currency, Haleth thought back to the advice Brynjolf had given him that had led to Haleth perpetually keeping a satchel or two of gemstones on him.

'I always like to keep at least some jewels on me, lad. Septims are fine and all, but in a bad situation, some gems could always get you out of spots easier than gold ever could. Small, and individually worth much more than a single coin. I've even bought me some Khajiit contacts over in Elsweyr with these things—they don't accept Septims there, or in the Aldmeri Dominion.'

Thus, since then, Haleth had always made sure to keep some gems from his bountiful stash on his person. His various travels throughout the Aldmeri Dominion as an Imperial Agent before the war had caused him no end of frustration with the different currency, and his gems had always helped.

Popping out the cork to the bottle of ale, Haleth took a sip, before gazing around the rest of the tavern. Various patrons, of seemingly different classes and stations, yet all here for the same reasons—to simply drink. The troupe of soldiers from earlier were also in the tavern, holding mugs of ale and bowls of stew in their hands. Perking his ears, Haleth listened for as much information as he could gather.

"—rebels to the south are getting feistier, especially after their recent victories."

"Word is, they've made treaties with them Surdans, down to the south. The Surdan king's been spotted in their camps, he has."

"—three dragons now. The king's, damn his soul, that blue one with the new rider, and now, there's some sort of red dragon, belonging to an agent of the empire, they say."

Dragons? Enemies or allies? There was no way to be sure. The dragons back home were friendly now, with Paarthurnax's guidance, but these dragons were likely to be different. They were, after all, of Lorkhan's ilk, and not Akatosh's. But riders?

Yes. Very different, most likely.

Moving his attention to the soldiers, Haleth took another sip of his ale, simply watching out of the corner of his eye.

"That man there, in the black. Looks suspicious to me, he does."

"Agreed. No simple man, Imperial, Varden, or otherwise, has that many weapons or that kind of clothing. Maybe an agent of the Varden."

"What if he's the king's agent, come to test us or some'in like 'at?

"Not likely. King likes to use those damned Ra'zac, he does, and they're much more forthright. I reckon he's an enemy of the empire. I say we kill 'em."

"When?"

"Tomorrow, if he leaves. If not, then whenever he does leave. On the road, so we don't garner no attention from the locals. Piss-poor peasants don't need to know more than 'ey do already."

Haleth smirked, having heard his share. So be it, he would be ready for these soldiers in the meantime. But, what he was really interested in was this Varden he kept hearing about. Rebels of some sort, against the king, whom the peasants had wanted to damn, for whatever reason. And if the king had a hostile dragon, then yes, Haleth could definitely see if this rebellion, this Varden, was worth joining.

However, Haleth's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion in the tavern, where several men, likely farmers of some sort, stood over a young man and woman. Haleth snorted—likely some sort of argument over the woman, no doubt. Haleth had no interest in such matters, and was about to look away, when he noticed something out of place.

The young man himself exuded an aura of sorts, and Haleth's magic-attuned dragon soul labelled it as magic. It was odd, the magic itself seemed foreign, corrupted, tainted, by some sort of being. The boy himself? No…What did Lorkhan say about magic in this world?

"…There has always been such a lack of it, that its inhabitants were forced to use their own souls to bolster their magic."

Ah, yes. That was it. The young man, obviously a mage, was using his own soul to feed his magic. Thus, the mortal taint within his magicka.

But that was not it. Years of spying within Aldmeri ranks, be it either espionage or counter-espionage, had given Haleth much ability to determine an elf from a human. And, gazing upon the young man, Haleth could very easily notice the makings of pointed ears under the man's hood. The Dragonborn frowned—what was the reason for the young man hiding that he was an elf? Persecution, perhaps, or were the elves some sort of faction against this Empire, and the boy was a spy, or an agent? A diplomat to these Varden, perhaps?

Haleth nodded to himself, determining on a course of action. Haleth could see a veil of magic under the woman as well—most likely some sort of illusion spell. These two... elves? They were most likely of some sort of force against the empire. Thus, Haleth would follow them in the morning—the two elves had since retreated upstairs, the fight having cooled down without an actual fight—and he would seek to find this Varden, or whatever resident force was against this empire. The soldiers would try to kill Haleth in the morning, no doubt, which could complicate things. Try was the keyword, however.

Finishing the last of his ale, Haleth gestured for the barmaid again, and when she arrived, he stood up.

"A room, please, and some peace and quiet. I'll be heading out in the morning. Also, there is a horse outside, a mare." Haleth handed the woman a handful of the coins that she had given him earlier. "Give her the best apples and hay you can provide her, and make her as comfortable as you can. The coin should be ample enough."

The woman briefly counted the crowns in her hand, before looking back up, astonished. "Sir, this is more than all that would cost!"

"Then keep the change. You gave me plenty enough for those jewels, you shouldn't be complaining—you have the gemstones, and you have this."

She nodded, giving Haleth a key and some directions to the room before leaving to relay Haleth's orders. Following her directions, Haleth found his room, closing and locking the door behind him. A window was built into the wall in one corner, and a simple bed sat in the other. Setting down his gear, Haleth simply elected to sleep in his attire, lying down calmly. He would wake up early in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he chose to sleep, his dreams quickly taking him.

Author's Note:

So, I decided to post the second chapter, which was already written and complete, earlier than I intended to (which was this Saturday) so that the Dragonborn's entry into Alagaesia would be sped up.

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! If you've got anything to say, be it constructive criticism or praise, feel free to drop a review. Until next time!

Individual Replies:

Guest: You literally left a review as I was writing this author's note, heh heh.

Not for now, but I may contemplate that idea later.