I don't own Skyrim. no copyright infringement is intended
Lydia never could recall exactly what had happened next. Faint disembodied voices were calling her name. One minute she felt light-headed, and the next she could smell manure in the air.
She could hear the distinct sounds of a stable, horses blowing and moving around. The jingle of tack, soft nickers. Gradually she became aware she was sitting on something prickly like straw. She felt chilly air brush over her and opened her eyes. First she noticed gray cloudy skies.
She was wedged between wooden barrels in an open stall. A small incline gave way to a cobblestone road. A horse hitched to a wagon sat on the side of the roadway. Stone fences and structures which reminded her of gazebos dotted the landscape.
In the distance she could make out a round tower against a backdrop of a mountain range. This place seemed vaguely familiar. She felt something slide off her leg. The amulet lay in the straw next to her purse.
Lydia hesitated slightly before picking up the necklace. There was something different about it. She looked closer. It was no longer pulsing. Once again it was an ice blue carved stone.
Feeling dizzy and disoriented, it didn't occur to her to question her surroundings. It was almost like waking up from anesthesia. Lydia closed her eyes content to remain where she was.
As she began to doze off footsteps alerted her that someone was coming. A middle-aged man carrying a burlap sack walked around the corner.
His outfit consisted of a badly stained white peasant style shirt covered by a faded green thigh length vest . His hide boots reminded her of moccasins.
He stopped abruptly as surprised to see her as she was him. When he spoke she could barely understand his heavily accented words, "The Bannared Mare rents rooms for sleeping damsel. Or were you looking to buy a horse? I have the finest steeds in all of Skyrim".
Lydia felt the fog lifting from her brain. She blinked several times. Even then she didn't believe her eyes. She was standing in Whiterun stables! She recognized the place.
Her brain began to seek a logical explanation for all of this. Skyrim is fictional place in a video game. So this had to be a dream, a realistic dream, but still a dream! Oh this was going to be awesome fun! She couldn't wait to write about it on the forums when she woke up.
She stood quickly breathing in air so fresh it made her head ring. She took one step forward and almost tripped over the carry on bag sitting near her feet. The man who appeared Nordish dropped his burlap sack and quickly steadied her. He reached down and handed her the luggage before clearing his throat, "damsel?'.
Lydia shook her head and brushed pass him. It felt so surreal to be in Skyrim! The cobblestones under her feet were crisp and icy. White plumes of breath escaped her mouth, as she walked towards the drawbridge. Familiar banners flapping in the breeze, greeted her arrival at the wide open gates. The single guard on duty waved her through, "The gates close at dusk damsel".
Lydia paused taking in her first view of Whiterun. There were people milling about. A few guards were talking loudly among themselves. Scents of peat, wood smoke and baking bread mingled heavily in the air. Young children chased one another in a game of tag. Their voices rose daring a blonde girl to catch them. A childish giggle caught her attention. She turned fascinated by what she was seeing.
A woman was goofing about playing with a dark-haired toddler who was laughing at her antics. The child rode on the shoulders of a man who could only be Ulfberth War-Bear.
Except for being a tad younger, he was exactly as depicted in-game, same dark hair, same intense eyes. The main difference was his clothes. This nord wore a sleeveless white tunic belted at the waist, and dark pants stuffed into knee high cross gartered boots. Instead of steel gauntlets, he wore heavy gold armbands. She had noticed only the guards were wearing armor.
Lydias eyes drifted to the woman. Was that Adrianne Avenicci? This girl looked young enough to be a teenager. Her long brown hair caught up in a fat braid,fell past her butt. Her muscular arms strained the fabric of her rust colored dress. Maybe from welding blacksmith hammers? The couple must have felt her staring, because they both turned to her. Adrianne's face was questioning. Ulfberth's seemed wary and hard to read.
He took two steps towards her,"Are you here for the regimentals lass?" he asked watching her dubiously. "We offer fine armor if you have the coin," he added. Lydia wanted to keep a low profile. She shook her head and moved to walk on. Adrianne spoke up, "Give us a chance. I may not be Eourland Graymane, but I have fine steel fit for the Jarl himself".