17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Valkyrie was nothing short of shocked as she, Ralof, and Ulfric Stormcloak approached the stables. While the remainder of Helgen had been laid to waste, burned to the ground by the dragon, the stables had largely remained untouched. She burst through the gate, relieved beyond belief that her Ivory was unscathed, although spooked from the outside commotion. It took a moment for the Dragonborn to calm the horse, wheezing and flailing wildly about. Eventually, the creature was settled, in a manner that only Valkyrie knew how to induce. "That's it, girl," she said, throwing a saddle onto the horse's back. "Everything's okay now."

Ralof and Ulfric found themselves eyeing the only two remaining horses in the stables. The two Nords glanced at each other nervously. "I..." Ralof stuttered. "I hate to be a thief, but-"

"The owners can hardly make use of these horses now," Ulfric said as he followed suit with Valkyrie. "At least we can make sure they serve a noble cause." With that, the leader of the Stormcloaks mounted up, and his subordinate did the same. The three Nords cracked the whips, bolting away from the wreckage of Helgen as fast as the horses underneath could carry them. The road away from town was long and winding, and Valkyrie allowed herself a moment to ponder. Could Ulfric truly be Dragonborn, as she was? If such was the case, why had Arngeir never mentioned him? At every turn, more and more questions piled up, and the Nord was truly beginning to get sick of all the twists that fate had handed her.

Eventually, the three came to a crossroads, and Valkyrie eyed a sign post that occupied itself just next to the dirt path. She saw it point to three locations, one being Helgen, although she suspected that would soon be changed. Another read Whiterun, which Valkyrie recognized as the only major city in the province she'd yet to visit, aside from Windhelm. The third read Riverwood, likely a smaller settlement, as Valkyrie had no knowledge of the place. She reasoned, however, that if the Imperials had captured her, even on false pretenses, it wasn't the best of ideas to set off on her own. As the three horses came to a stop in the center of the crossroads, she turned to Ulfric and Ralof.

"So, gentlemen," she said. "Where exactly are we headed?"

"Good question," Ulfric responded. "I must admit I'm not quite as familiar with this area as I'd like."

"I think I know," Ralof spoke now. "The closest town from here is Riverwood. My sister, Gerdur, runs the mill there."

"Can we trust her?" Valkyrie asked. "I might not be one of you, but those Imperials might have sent my information to their superiors."

"Don't worry, Gerdur's sympathetic to our cause," said Ralof. "We'll have a hot meal and a place to rest for the night, easy."

"Besides," interjected the Jarl. "It seems like the three of us are the only survivors. It will take some time for word to reach Solitude about what happened if that's the case."

"So," the Dragonborn nodded. She turned her face back to the road, the sun beginning to set atop the horizon. Perhaps once they were safe, she would have the chance to ask Ulfric the many, many questions that lay on her mind. "Riverwood it is. Let's ride."

Aside from the river that flowed just outside of the settlement, Valkyrie didn't see much of Riverwood, mostly because night had fallen by the time she and the Stormcloaks arrived. Riding along the dirt road through the center of town, the trio passed a few smaller huts, noting the lumber mill off on the other side of the river, before arriving at a much larger building, which Valkyrie guessed was an inn. She was thankful that no one appeared to be out, as the last thing she needed was someone to somehow know that she was possibly a wanted woman. As quietly as was possible, the three Nords hitched their horses next to the inn, and Ralof led them around the building, the dirt road winding off before stopping at another hut. This one was considerably larger than the others, though not quite the size of the inn.

"Alright," Ralof said as they approached. "I don't think Gerdur or her husband have gone to bed yet. Let me do the talking." He gave the door a few gentle wraps of his knuckles. For a moment, nothing happened, and Valkyrie was worried something was amiss, but then the door opened, yet another Nord woman standing on the other side. As soon as this Gerdur saw Ralof, her eyes grew wide and she rushed forward to hug him.

"Brother!" Gerdur said, seemingly relieved. "Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!"

"And you as well, sister," Ralof said back.

"But is it safe for you to be here?" She then questioned. "We heard that Ulfric had been captured..."

It was then that Ralof looked back, a smirk on his face. Ulfric had deigned to stand back, but now stepped center stage to reveal himself to Gerdur. "I appreciate your concern," said the Jarl. "But as you can see, the Imperials weren't able to hold us for long."

Gerdur's hands immediately flew over her mouth. "By the Nine!" She said, immediately bowing her head. "Lord Ulfric! It is an honor to-"

"Yes, yes, we're all very humbled," Valkyrie now stepped in. "May we come in? I don't exactly feel comfortable standing out in the open while making so much noise."

"Of course," Gerdur said. "Come in, all of you. Hod! We have guests!"

Gerdur's house seemed rather spacious compared to the other huts and cabins in the village, though Ralof had mentioned his sister owned the town's mill, so Valkyrie supposed it would make sense for her to be somewhat well off. As she, Ralof, and Ulfric hurried inside, the warmth of the fireplace and the smell of freshly cooked meat was a welcome sensation. Valkyrie began to reach for her satchel, only to panic slightly when she realized it wasn't there. In all the confusion of Helgen, she hadn't noticed that the Imperials had taken her things. Her magic satchel, in which resided her weapons, the Armor of Auri-El, as well as all her money, was still in the destroyed town. Possibly even further out of her grasp, considering it was likely the soldiers may have gone through her belongings.

"You missing something?" Ralof's voice jerked Valkyrie's mind into the present.

"I had a satchel," Valkyrie explained, visibly upset. "There were some things in it that were... very valuable."

Her fellow Nord only sighed. "Tough luck, friend. If the Imperials didn't sell your things off for themselves, that satchel was probably destroyed when the tower collapsed. That's where all the prisoner belongings were kept."

"Fuck," she swore, only to recieve a dirty look from Gerdur, who's hands had quickly clasped over the ears of a young boy, likely her son. "Sorry."

"If it's supplies you need," Gerdur said. "I would talk to Lucan over at the general store. And Alvor, the blacksmith."

"They'll help me?" Valkyrie asked. "I'm not exactly doing great, money wise."

"They're decent folks," the older woman answered, before her face scowled slightly. "Even if they are Imperial sympathizers. Just tell them to put it on my tab."

"Are you sure?" The Dragonborn was overwhelmed by Gerdur's kindness.

"Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine," Gerdur smiled at her.

Some time passed after this. Unsurprisingly, Gerdur and her husband Hod were just a bit skeptical when Ralof told them a dragon of all things had saved them from being executed by Imperial soldiers. But when Ulfric himself backed up his man's story, taking particular care to mention the part where he Shouted the dragon out of the sky, they quickly changed their tune. Valkyrie had opted not to take part in the tale, still unsure what to make of Ulfric Stormcloak, or even Ralof for that matter. Though in truth, all she really wanted was a nice, hot meal. She hadn't actually eaten since being taken prisoner.

Almost as if he could read her thoughts, Hod came up from the cellar just then with extra bowls and silverware, as Valkyrie, Ralof, and Ulfric were invited to sit down at their table, which itself was surprisingly large for a family of three. Valkyrie hungrily devoured the stew that was placed in front of her, and there was a lengthy silence that filled the table as the three former prisoners stuffed their faces.

Every so often, Valkyrie would subtly try to glance over at Ulfric, the supposed Dragonborn. She found it so strange that Arngeir and the Greybeards' philosophy was centered around instructing those of the Dragon Blood, but the old man had never mentioned that another had once studied with them. She decided that as soon as dinner was over, she was going to try and get the Stormcloaks' leader somewhere private. There were so many questions she had on her mind. But it was then, as Ulfric finished his bowl, he stood up from the table.

"I must go now," he said in a somber tone.

"Lord Ulfric?" Gerdur stood up as well, seeming to plead with him. "You need to rest. We have a few spare bed rolls that-"

"Gerdur," Ulfric cut her off, but gently. "I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality. But if I stay here, it will only put your family in danger. I have to set off for Windhelm."

"I suppose I should gather my things, then," said Ralof as he stood as well.

"No, my brother," said the Jarl, clasping a hand on the younger Nord's shoulder. "You need to stay here and rest."

"But my lord," it was now Ralof's turn to plead. "You just escaped from the Imperials. Once they know what happened, they'll have patrols everywhere looking for you. You'll be completely unguarded!"

"I'll be traveling at night," Ulfric assured him. "If the horse outside is swift enough, and if the Gods grant me a bit of favor, I can be back in Stormcloak territory before the sun rises." He then turned back to Gerdur. "Before I go, is there a quill and parchment I could use?"

"Of course," the woman said, excusing herself from the table. She returned only a moment later with the items Ulfric had requested. The Jarl proceeded to pen what looked to be a brief letter, before sealing it and crudely drawing the sigil of a bear on the outside.

"I supposed that will have to be close enough," he remarked at his drawing. "Now then," he turned to face none other than the Dragonborn. "I believe I caught your name was Valkyrie?"

"That's right," she said.

"I don't know where exactly you were headed, but..." he passed the letter to her. "Could you perhaps do me a favor and make a stop to Whiterun?"

"I guess it's on the way," Valkyrie said cautiously. "Could I ask why?"

"I don't know if you noticed, but Helgen was attacked by a dragon," said Ulfric. There was almost a twinge of annoyance in his voice, but she brushed it off. "They've been gone for hundreds of years. As lucky as we were that one attacked when it did, there could very well be more where it came from." He motioned to the letter, and Valkyrie finally picked it up, eyeing his poorly drawn bear sigil. "Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun will need to know so he might protect his citizens."

"Alright," Valkyrie finally relented. "I'll head out in the morning."

"Thank you," the Jarl bowed slightly to her. "Ysmir watch over you," he then faced back to Ralof and Gerdur. "And the both of you as well. I'll see you back in Windhelm, Ralof."

"That you will, my lord."

Valkyrie was rather annoyed. Her plan to interrogate Ulfric after dinner had been thwarted by the older man's desire to keep his supporters' families out of trouble. It was noble of him, she admitted, but she simply had to know exactly where he had learned to use the Voice, if he had studied with the Greybeards as she did, and whatever legitimacy there was to his claim of being Dragonborn. Valkyrie supposed she could ask Ralof if he knew anything, but the man was likely too enamored with Ulfric and his cause to not sugarcoat it.

However, as both she and Ralof readied themselves for sleep, she decided this could possibly be an opportunity to learn more about the Stormcloak cause, if nothing else because, once she retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from Ustengrav, she planned to also interrogate Arngeir about it all, and it would be nice to have more to work with.

"You still awake?" She asked Ralof after a moment.

"Yeah. What is it?" The man answered. Valkyrie pondered for the briefest of moments, before deciding it would be better to simply be direct. She had heard a bit of what happened from the Imperial soldiers in Helgen, but now it was time to hear it from a Stormcloak.

"I've been away from Skyrim for a while," she said. "What exactly is Ulfric's game?"

"Game?" Ralof sounded almost offended. "This is no game. He's fighting for the freedom of Skyrim, for all Nords!"

"Alright, spare me the propaganda," Valkyrie shot back at him. "I just want to know more about him. Why exactly is he fighting to break Skyrim away from the Empire?"

"Hmm..." The male Nord paused. "How much do you know about the Great War?"

"It was before my time," Valkyrie said. "But my adoptive father served in the Legion. Fought against the Aldmeri Dominion."

"I was born just as the war ended," Ralof said. "And my father fought as well. Lost his life taking the Imperial City back from those damned piss skins."

Well, that's not racist at all, Valkyrie was surprised at his outburst, but Ralof wasn't finished.

"Untold numbers of Nords lost their lives fighting for the Empire," he continued. "And do you know what our reward was? To have our Gods and our culture stripped away from us. Those blasted Elves telling us which Gods we can and can't worship."

"You mean the White Gold Concordat?" the Dragonborn asked.

"That's the one," Ralof sneered. "Peace treaty my arse. The Emperor sold our country out to save his own backside."

"So they banned the worship of Ysmir," Valkyrie reiterated. "Is there anything else to it?"

She expected the man to begin rattling on about some other reason the Empire was awful in every conceivable way, but instead, Ralof looked at Valkyrie, surprised. "Most people refer to Him as Talos," he noted. "It's not often someone calls Him by His ancient name, even a fellow Nord. Even many of our own people have taken to using Imperial names for our Gods."

"Let's just say I'm quite scholarly," she smirked at him. "But back to my question..."

"Well, truth be told, the worship of Ysmir was just the straw that broken the horse's back," Ralof continued. "Once the Stormcloaks liberate Skyrim, we plan to take the fight to the Aldmeri Dominion."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Valkyrie asked. "If the entire Empire couldn't defeat the Dominion, what makes you think Skyrim on its own can?"

It was then that he smiled wide. "Because we have the Dragonborn on our side. And once we destroy those accursed Elves once and for all, Ulfric will form a new Empire, once again ruled by the Dragon Blood, with Skyrim as its capital."

At this point, Valkyrie wasn't sure if Ulfric was completely insane, just a narcissist with a bloated ego, or if he actually was the Dragonborn. But she figured that voicing these opinions would only garner anger from Ralof. "Lofty goals," was all she said. "So, forgive me for trying to poke holes in your cause, but..." she took a deep breath. "How can you be sure he's actually Dragonborn?"

"You're joking, right?" Ralof asked her.

"The last of the Septims died during the Oblivion Crisis," she argued. "There hasn't been a Dragonborn since."

"But that's where you're wrong," he said. "Ulfric is the last living descendant of Tiber Septim, Ysmir himself. Uriel Septim's line may have perished, but Ulfric is the rightful heir to the Imperial throne."

"That sounds nice and all," Valkyrie continued to doubt. "But if there truly was a Septim branch family, why hasn't anyone spoken up about it until now?"

"Sadly, I don't have an answer for you," Ralof shrugged. "That's a question you'll have to ask Ulfric. Which reminds me," he then looked Valkyrie dead in the eyes, causing the Dragonborn to lean away slightly, unsure of exactly what his intentions were. "Once you're done with your business in Whiterun," he said. "You should come to Windhelm with me and join the fight to free Skyrim."

Valkyrie's eyes widened. "You're joking."

"Not at all," Ralof said back. "You saw the true face of the Empire today. They were about to lop your head off with the rest of us!"

"Is that right?" She questioned. "Because it seemed to me like they were going to let me go once they contacted Jarl Igmund."

"Bah," he scoffed at her. "Perhaps that's what Hadvar told you, but you could never trust that weasel."

"Seems you have a history with him," Valkyrie noted.

"Had, more like," Ralof sighed. "I doubt he made it out of Helgen, but yes. Hadvar was my best friend as a boy, our fathers served in the Legion together during the Great War," his face turned into a scowl. "Neither of them came back from Cyrodiil. And then they signed that damned treaty. I had planned on following in my father's footsteps, but I could never serve an Empire that denies my culture and my heritage." He shook his head. "When Ulfric killed the High King, promised to fight for a free Skyrim, I didn't hesitate to sign up."

"Hadvar, on the other hand?"

"Seems his honor died with his father," Ralof spat. "He enlisted with the Legion the moment he heard the news. I haven't spoken to him since the war started."

"I wouldn't really call this a war," Valkyrie said. "From what Gerdur told me, it's only really been a few skirmishes."

"Maybe not yet," he said ominously. "But it's coming, and soon. I can only hope you'll choose to join us after you think it over."

"We'll see," Valkyrie said, already having made up her mind to stay out of political squabbles. "I have a lot to take care of in the meantime. Speaking of which," she adjusted herself on the bed roll. "I'm not too familiar with this area myself. How do I get to Whiterun from here?"

"Just cross the river, and head north," Ralof said. "The road will lead you through the falls, and it'll be just on the other side of the valley."

"Thank you."

"Jarl Balgruuf still hasn't declared for one side or the other," he continued. "So at least you won't have to worry about running into any Imperials along the way."

"So he's neutral?" Valkyrie asked. "I'm honestly surprised."

"He's been trying to stay out of it, but it can't last," Ralof explained. "I respect Balgruuf. On one hand, he refuses to acknowledge the White Gold Concordat, allows his citizens to openly worship whichever Gods they wish."

"Really now?"

"But he and Ulfric haven't always seen eye to eye," his tone suddenly grew darker. "I'm worried he may end up making the wrong choice because of it."

Valkyrie only nodded in response. It appeared that retrieving the Horn would have to be put aside for a bit. Ulfric may have killed the dragon at Helgen, but there was no way of knowing if there were more where it came from, biding their time to attack other villages and settlements. Ralof and his family were absolutely right that the Jarl needed to be warned of the dangers, but the Dragonborn couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension about the whole situation. If the past two years had taught her anything, it was that nothing was ever so simple, and going to see the Jarl would likely drag her into another tailspin.

But it wasn't as though she had a choice. She had given her word that she would deliver Ulfric's message. Whatever secrets the Jarl of Eastmarch held would be talked out of him at a later time. Valkyrie laid back down onto her bed roll, eventually drifting off to sleep.

"Zu'u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein."

Valkyrie shot up, a sense of discomfort in her eyes from the rays of light that the morning sun beamed into the hut from outside. Her breathing was heavy, and small beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Another nightmare, this one involving the same black dragon from the last one. She had almost forgotten about that night in the forest, before reaching High Hrothgar. There was no mistake, both dreams had contained visions of the same dragon, its voice even more chilling than the last time. The only difference was now there was no Serana here to comfort Valkyrie.

Gods, I miss her, the Nord thought as she picked herself off the floor, preparing to set out for Whiterun. I hope whatever her mother needed help with, she's safe.

Clad in a new set of leather armor, unfortunately all the blacksmith could give her for free, and armed with a new steel blade, a hunting bow, and a quiver full of arrows, Valkyrie now stepped into the Riverwood Trader, a general store just a short jaunt away from Gerdur's house. As she entered, the Nord immediately took notice of two Imperials, both looking about the same age, one male and one female, arguing intensely.

"Well, one of us has to do something!" The woman yelled.

"I said no!" The man slammed his hand down on his counter. "No adventures, no theatrics, no thief chasing!"

"Well, what are you going to about it then, huh?" She crossed her arms. "Let's hear it!"

"We are done talking about this, I-" the man started, but immediately lowered his voice when he caught a glimpse of Valkyrie, standing in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked. "Oh, a customer," he said, suddenly very calm and polite. "Sorry you had to hear that."

"It's... alright," Valkyrie said cautiously. "You know Gerdur? She told me I could pick up some supplies here and put it on her tab."

"I see," the man said. "Well, I know she's good for it. Sure, take a look around. We still have plenty for sale."

The Dragonborn took a look, picking up a few pieces of food, some potions, still kicking herself that she had left her old satchel behind. This new one was alright, but it wasn't enchanted, didn't have the magical storage capabilities her old one had. Hopefully the court wizard in Whiterun would be able to help her with that. Before leaving, Valkyrie's curiosity got the better of her. "So did something happen?"

This clearly caught the man off guard, who Valkyrie had caught his name was Lucan, his sister Camilla. "Er..." he stuttered. "Yes, we did have a bit of a... break-in."

"Sorry to hear that," the Nord said as she finished picking over the food that the Imperials had for sale. "If you don't mind me asking, what was it that got stolen?"

"An ornament," Lucan said. "Solid gold, in the shape of a dragon's claw."

"Interesting," the Dragonborn mused before finally throwing caution to the wind. She walked over to where the two Imperials were standing, and leaned herself against the counter. "So listen," she said. "Part of the reason Gerdur agreed to pay for my things is because I'm out of money. If you wanted to give me a finder's fee, I could help you get that bauble back."

Strangely enough, Lucan didn't even flinch when asked about the prospect of money. "You could, eh?" He asked. "I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back."

"Deal," Valkyrie nodded. "Any idea where they might have been headed?"

"There was a Dunmer in here a few days ago," Camilla then spoke up. "He was the one who stole the claw, kept rambling under his breath about something, but I caught him mentioning Bleak Falls Barrow."

"And where might that be?"

"Northeast of town," Lucan said, before turning back to his sister. "So I guess that means you don't have to go."

"Well," Camilla rested her hands on her hips. "I think your new helper here needs a guide."

Clearly the man hadn't been expecting that response from his sister. "Wha- no, I-" he stuttered, before finally throwing up his hands in defeat. "By the Eight, fine! But only to the edge of town!" With that Camilla was clearly satisfied, and Valkyrie, unsure how exactly to respond, simply remained silent and followed the Imperial out the door.

"So," Valkyrie said as she followed Camilla away from the shop. "Bleak Falls Barrow. It sounds familiar, but..." she trailed off, unwilling to give away the fact that Ralof had mentioned it on the way into town, or that she had been in the company of Stormcloak rebels. The last thing the Nord needed was to get caught in a squabble with some overly patriotic townspeople. The Imperial responded by pointing off in the distance, across the river, where the base of a great mountain stood.

"It's the old burial crypt at the peak of the mountain," Camilla explained. "If you ask me, that Elf is crazy to hide out there. Those places are filled with traps, trolls, and who knows what else."

"Oh, I know what else," Valkyrie muttered, immediately regretting her sudden generosity. The last time she had traipsed through an ancient Nordic burial cairn was over a year ago in Dimhollow Crypt, where the Vigilant of Stendarr Tolan had lost his life, and where Valkyrie had met Serana for the first time. Gods, how she missed that vampire.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"No, nothing," she said quickly. The both of them reached the edge of the village within minutes, where a bridge leading across the river.

"The path leading up to the northwest will take you to Bleak Falls Barrow," Camilla said, strangely chipper for someone who was willfully sending another on a dangerous delve into an ancient ruin likely filled with the living dead. As the Imperial woman said her farewells and left the Dragonborn alone, Valkyrie simply stared blankly at the path before her. The fork in the road at the other end of the bridge, one path lead to the crypt, the other seemingly to the city of Whiterun. Valkyrie sighed.

You know what, she thought. I don't need this right now. She whistled, and moments later the sound of hooves hitting the ground were heard as Ivory came barreling over to her master. Valkyrie wasted no time saddling up, before giving the reins a crack. "On to Whiterun, girl. Yah!"

Roughly an hour was spent in silence as the Dragonborn and her steed sped down the road away from Riverwood, on their way to the city of Whiterun. In truth, Valkyrie's childhood exploratory nature began to creep into the recesses of her mind. Despite having traveled all over the province during her time with the Dawnguard, Whiterun, as well as Windhelm, were the only two hold capitals she had yet to visit. The Nord only imagined she would cross them both off before the month was out, given that she had never gotten the chance to ask Ulfric her questions.

As Valkyrie rode down the path, it yet again intertwined with the river, this time proceeding over a waterfall which led into a great open valley. Very few trees along the landscape, she saw a massive field of grass, hay, and wheat, undoubtedly Whiterun's farmlands, with the occasional game prancing about outside its perimeter. And just on the other side was a breathtaking wall. Judging by the size of the structure, Whiterun was clearly larger than any city in the province, though Valkyrie could only see what she assumed was the Jarl's palace peeking out above.

The Dragonborn let out a whistle. Impressive, she thought.

Valkyrie cracked the reins, and Ivory bolted, the distance of the valley being crossed in only a few short minutes. After a time, the untamed grass of the fields gave way to dirt and stone, a pathway leading up to the city, and the Nord couldn't help but feel a bit excited. Her childhood dream, after all, had been to explore the world, so finding new places always delighted her. As Ivory began to slow to a trot below her, Valkyrie came upon what she only assumed were Whiterun's stables. A quick word with a stable hand, and the Dragonborn's steed was taken care of, leaving the Nord to venture into the city and see what await her.

The guards at the main gate barely paid her any attention, Valkyrie was able to stroll right through without a care in the world. As she entered the city, the Nord couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. The walls on the outside had made Whiterun seem much larger and worthy of exploration than it actually was. As Valkyrie walked, she passed by the usual townsfolk that inhabited Skyrim's settlements, arguing, conversing, drunkenly reveling even in the middle of the day. All in all, the supposed great city of Whiterun was only about the size of a large village, and the Dragonborn sighed, severely let down.

As she wandered through town, around a corner she came to a plaza, a great dead tree adorning its center, even more townsfolk bustling about around it. It was then that Valkyrie noticed, behind the tree, the stairs leading upward to what could only be the Jarl's palace. She nodded her head, if nothing else, at least the palace was as impressive as it had looked on the outside of the walls. She made a beeline up the stairs, actually somewhat nervous to be speaking with the Jarl. It confused her as to why, she had dealt with nobility most of her childhood growing up in Understone Keep, but then, this city was far out of her jurisdiction.

As Valkyrie reached the top of the grand stairs, two guards were waiting for her, their weapons drawn. She backed down slightly, but instinctively put a hand on the hilt of her blade.

"Halt!" One of the guards barked at her. "No visitors to see the Jarl without proper authorization!"

"Easy!" Valkyrie shot back. "Don't you know what happened yesterday?"

"What?"

"A dragon attacked Helgen! Burned it to the ground!"

The two guards were silent for a moment, and briefly exchanged glances with each other. They then lowered their weapons and burst out laughing. For just a split moment, Valkyrie considered Shouting them out of the way, but instead decided that attacking city guards would not be the wisest way to introduce herself to the Jarl.

"A dragon, she says!" One of the guards continued to laugh. "Do you think we were born yesterday, girl? Everyone knows dragons have been extinct for centuries!"

"I'm not joking," Valkyrie said angrily, before reaching into her satchel and pulling out Ulfric's message. "But if that's not good enough for you, I also have a letter for the Jarl."

"Is that so?" They asked. "Who from?"

"Ulfric Stormcloak."

That got the guards to take her seriously. They both looked at each other rather nervously for a moment, before at last stepping aside. "Very well," one of them said. "No funny business, outsider. Otherwise Irileth will have your head on a spike before five minutes have passed."

Valkyrie's only response was to eye the guards as if they had three heads. She was used to inhospitable greetings, even from her own kind, but this was something she hadn't quite experienced before. As the Dragonborn stepped past, the grand doorway of the Jarl's palace opening for her, she was greeted by only yet another lavish and open entryway, the walls adorned with expensive drapery and servants bustling about. Across the room, upon a throne of wood sat a man who could only be Jarl Balgruuf. He was slouched back in his seat, an Imperial man in fancy garment and a Dunmer woman in full plat armor on each side of him. As soon as Valkyrie stepped even an inch closer, the Elf drew a blade from her hip and made a beeline for the Nord.

By the Gods, Valkyrie thought. Why is everyone in this town so damned paranoid?

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" The Dunmer woman demanded. "The Jarl is not receiving visitors."

"I have a message for the Jarl," the Dragonborn replied, crossing her arms.

"Anything you can say to him," the Elf continued. "You can say to me."

"With all respect," Valkyrie shot back, her voice indicating there was very little respect, "I was told to give this message directly to the Jarl."

The Dunmer's hand tightened around the hilt of her blade, and Valkyrie's hand hovered above her own. Just when she was sure things were about to get messy, a man's voice came from behind the Dark Elf. "Alright, Irileth, that's enough. Let us hear what she had to say."

Undoubtedly the Jarl, the Elf named Irileth sheathed her blade, but not before shooting Valkyrie a warning. "I've got my eye on you."

"I'm flattered," Valkyrie said as she walked past the Dunmer. "But also taken."

She heard Irileth curse underneath her breath, but the Elf was clearly keeping her composure out of respect for the Jarl. The Jarl, whom Valkyrie was finally meeting. Balgruuf was a typical Nord type, long blonde hair, a great beard adorning his face, the only difference is that he was dressed rather ornately for someone who was supposed to be a warrior. But Valkyrie paid such notions little mind as she approached the man, who was eyeing her with a hint of suspicion. "Well," Balgruuf spoke at last. "I trust you have something vitally important to tell me. Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of counsel?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, Jarl," Valkyrie said confidently, reaching into her satchel and retrieving the letter. "Ulfric Stormcloak asked me to deliver this to you."

Balgruuf's eyes grew wide as he stood up from his throne. He carefully took the letter from her and read it to himself. There was a long, awkward silence as Valkyrie wasn't quite sure how to interpret the man's response to being given news from Ulfric. After a bit, Balgruuf looked away from the letter, now to the Dragonborn. "Tell me," he said. "What's your association with Ulfric?"

"I don't have one," she answered truthfully.

"You expect me to believe he trusted a stranger to deliver this news?" The Jarl accused. "This... dragon attack? How is that even possible?"

"I was there," Valkyrie answered. "Myself, Ulfric, and another of his men were the only survivors, as far as we know. He asked me to deliver the letter because Whiterun is on the way to where I was headed."

"You were, were you?" Balgruuf's tone eased off a bit. "You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"I did," she said. "And I watched Ulfric Shout it out of the sky and kill it."

The Jarl was silent for a moment, exchanging glances with the Dunmer woman. "Irileth," he finally adressed her. "Send a detachment to Riverwood at once. If one dragon appeared, there could be more lurking around." Irileth bowed her head to Balgruuf, who then turned to an Imperial man who had stood silent for their entire conversation. "Proventus," he said. "Compensate the young woman for travelling all this way." The man named Proventus responded not with words, but by presenting Valkyrie the most bloated coin pouch she'd ever seen, full to bursting with Septims.

"Oh," she said, genuinely surprised as she took it. "Thank you."

"Of course," the Jarl said. "Now listen, I understand your travels are to take you away from Whiterun, but..." he paused. "If I could ask for your assistance again, there's something else you could help me with."

"I don't know, my lord," Valkyrie said. "My... pilgrimage is of the utmost importance."

"I know," Balgruuf replied. "Rest assured you'll be generously rewarded."

The Dragonborn did like the sound of generous rewards. As much as the purse was that she was just given, it would likely only last her a week or so. "Very well," she finally relented. "What would you have me do?"

"Come," the Jarl said. "Let's go find Farengar, my court wizard."

The both of them ventured away from the main hall, off to a doorway along the side of the palace. Just inside, yet another Nord, this one clad in blue robes with a hood adorning his face was hunched over a desk, tomes scattered across its surface.

"Farengar," the Jarl announced their presence, and the wizard immediately stood up, bowing to Balgruuf as he entered. "I owe you an apology."

"I'm sorry?" Farengar asked. "An apology for what, my lord?"

"For dismissing your concerns about dragons," Balgruuf answered, turning to Valkyrie. "My wizard came to me about a week ago, toting around some old book he found that tells about the return of the dragons. How the sky would black out, only to be restored. I thought nothing of it until now."

"Interesting," Valkyrie said. "Mind if I have a look at it?"

"Unfortunately," the wizard's tone was quite hostile towards her. "I don't have access to it right now. I already lent it to a colleague of mine."

"Regardless," Balgruuf interjected before Valkyrie had a chance to tell Farengar off, "Fill my new friend here in on the details of your little... excursion." He then turned away to exit the room. "I'm sure you'll get along famously."

Valkyrie very much had her doubts about this, but was willing to give the wizard a chance for Balgruuf's sake. "So," Farengar said as the Jarl left. "The Jarl thinks you can be of use to me."

"Apparently so," she said. "You need help with something?"

"Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me." The look on Valkyrie's face quickly made the wizard rephrase his statement. "Well, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there."

Dangerous ruins? Valkyrie thought. Lovely. "Alright, so where is this ruin I'm going to be traipsing around in?" Farengar's answer to the Dragonborn's question only made her regret ever stepping foot inside the palace.

"Bleak Falls Barrow..."