Sherlock and John ran towards the river.
"I suppose they found the guard out cold." John panted.
"We should have hidden it." Sherlock said. "It was a stupid mistake."
"Sorry." John exhaled.
They'd just met the river, and were now running alongside it.
"It's not your fault. At least we got out of town before they noticed; otherwise I don't think we'd have any hope." Sherlock said while slowing his pace. "We should be safe to move at a brisk walk. News of our escape wouldn't have reached Riverwood yet."
They kept walking, and John spotted a stone bridge, and behind it, the small village of Riverwood. They crossed the bridge when they got to it, and Sherlock took lead. They entered a building; it was a general goods store. There was the ring of a bell when Sherlock pushed the door open, and their gaze was met by that of the shopkeeper.
"I was just about to close up." the Dark Elf spoke in rough voice.
"Please, we won't be long; we just want to buy some food." Sherlock said in the kindest voice he could manage.
"I suppose I'll be nice. What do you want then?" the shopkeeper asked.
"What do you have?" John asked; he was getting nervous about the guards finding them.
"Well, we got cheese, some vegetables, and I got some bread in this mornin'. It's just the things that are left over from today."
"How much for all of it?" Sherlock got out the coin purse.
"Let me see… that'd be twenty-three gold."
"Do you have any flasks?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, eleven gold each."
"We'll take two flasks, and all your food stock."
"That comes to thirty-four gold."
Sherlock picked the coins out of the coin purse and handed them to the shopkeeper, who counted the money. He then got the items from behind the counter and pushed them towards his customers.
"A pleasure doing business with you. Have a nice night."
Sherlock took the food and shoved it in the rucksack, and beckoned John to follow him out the shop, passing his companion one of the flasks. They walked to the riverside and dipped the flasks in the water for them to fill up.
"Now," Sherlock started, putting his flask in the rucksack. "We head for Falkreath."
The walked and walked until their legs were tired, but they had to keep walking, not always sticking to the paths as to avoid bandits.
"We don't want any unnecessary trouble." Sherlock said the first time they strayed off path.
When the village of Falkreath was in sight, Sherlock found a crevice in the nearby small cliff, for them to sleep off the rest of the night.
"The carriage should be ready to take business at dawn. We should try to get some rest. The gods know we deserve it." Sherlock pulled out two bedrolls from the rucksack.
He really had prepared quite well. John lay down on his, enjoying the feeling of finally being able to lie down. He closed his eyes and soon enough, he was asleep.
John was jolted awake to see Sherlock's face hovering above him.
"We should go." He said, and he turned and picked up the rucksack. As soon as John stood up, Sherlock was rolling up the second bedroll.
John walked with Sherlock along the village path, feeling a lot more relaxed for several reasons. They found the carriage; two horses were attached to it, and the coachman sitting at the front of the carriage, with a long grey beard and sunken eyes.
"How much is it for a ride to Winterhold?" Sherlock looked up at the coachman.
"Hmm, I'll make that about ten gold. It gets awfully chilly up there." The bearded man said.
Sherlock handed the necessary coin to the man.
"Hop on board! I haven't gone for an early ride in while."
Sherlock and John climbed into the carriage and sat on the wooden seat. There was a jolt as the carriage started moving.
Hours later, the carriage stopped moving, and the weather was much colder than it was back in Falkreath.
"Here you are!" the coachman smiled as the two men hopped out of the carriage.
John bid his thanks as Sherlock walked off straight away. John jogged to catch up. As he was walking, Sherlock swung the rucksack off his shoulder, and reached inside. He pulled out a deep green cloak and threw it to John. John caught it quickly and looked at Sherlock in surprise.
"Does that bag have a bottom?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Sherlock said, pulling out a second cloak for himself.
John tied his cloak around his shoulders, very grateful that Sherlock had packed so well.
At the end of the road was the stone path which led to the College of Winterhold. They stepped onto the bridge and made their way across. It led to the magnificent building – tall and arcane in looks. They arrived at the front gate, which was unfortunately closed. John cursed, and looked through the bars. A few moments later, somebody came out of a pair of double doors. They were wearing beige robes, their hood pulled up to resist against the cold.
"Excuse me!" John called into the courtyard.
The person's head turned, and they approached them. The woman arrived at the gate.
"How can I help you?" she asked with a kind smile.
"Well, um, we need some knowledge." John said, not sure if straight out saying they wanted a cure for lycanthropy was such a great idea.
The woman laughed, and much to John's surprise, unlocked the gate to let them in.
"We definitely offer that here." She said, inviting them in. "What kind of knowledge do you need?"
"Um…" John wasn't actually sure how to go about this situation.
"If it's a case of embarrassment, I've heard many, many things, so please don't hesitate." The woman smiled.
"Okay, well… we were wondering if you knew about a cure for lycanthropy." John spoke quickly.
"I personally only know a small amount of knowledge about that, but I'm sure another mage will be able to help you. Follow me and we'll get inside to the warmth."
The kind mage led them past a tall statue of a wizard, and through some of the biggest doors John had ever seen. Indeed it was wonderfully warm inside. John smiled at the welcoming change, and observed his surroundings. There was another set of gates that led to a tall, circular room, which had a strange kind of blue pool in the middle, from which a ray a blue light shone right up to the ceiling. The female mage stepped forward and unlocked the gates. She poked her head inside and called into the room.
"Vistha, are you there?" her voice echoed.
A figure stepped out of the shadows and approached the gate. When the light revealed his face, they could see he was an Argonian. His scales glittered in the candlelight.
"What is it, Molly?" he asked the female mage.
"These gentlemen would like to know about the cure for lycanthropy. Would you be able to help them?"
"Certainly." Vistha said, turning to Sherlock and John, bowing. "Follow me to the Arcanium. We should be able to do some proper research to make sure you go about this cure properly."
He gestured to the staircase on the left, and John turned to Molly. "Thank you for your help."
"No problem." She smiled
Sherlock, John and Vistha climbed the staircase, and when John looked over at Sherlock, he could see that he was eagerly excited; and so was John.