Sven was having a terrible morning. The previous evening he had been in the Bannered Mare, drinking and generally enjoying spending time with his friends while eying up the new barmaid. Unfortunately, he had overdone it, and had woken in the morning with a terrible hangover. To make matters worse, he had midday shift, and knowing the earful he would receive from both the Captain of the Guard as well as his own father, though he couldn't tell which was worse. He had strolled into his post at noon, and since then, been slowly removing the hangover by the slow consumption of a health potion, as well as sticking a leaf of nirnroot underneath his helm to negate the brunt of a strong headache.

Unfortunately, he had received the market shift, which usually meant being vigilant in the curning mass of townsfolk and merchants for a pick-pocket or the odd brawl over a disagreement in prices. Instead, Sven spent the majority of his time in the shade of the Belethor's awning, barely containing his personal pain as the wall of sound and smells barrage his abused senses. The world itself could've been ending and he would have been too self-absorbed to notice. So it would make sense when the natural ambience of the market clattered to a halt that it took a few seconds in his recovering mental state to notice the sudden lack of the noise he so dreaded.

The resulting image when he looked back into the crowd however had him questioning if his potion had gone bad, for splitting the mass of human bodies was a massive figure, clad with a multitude of furs that covered his lowered body and a chest slung over one shoulder that clanked and jingles as He strode through the marketplace. The man beelined for the staircase ascending towards the cloud district, pausing only to gently remove slack-jawed city go-oers from His path. So devoted to his attention on the mountain like man that he failed to see the three Companions in His shadow, trailing behind him with slightly concerned and suspicious glances. As He passed below the gateway to the next district, the market held its breath until even the Companions were gone, before breaking into a furious barrage of rough whispers and questions.

His physical reprieve broke, Sven consigned himself to start double checking the potions he bought. And to slightly, slightly, lay off the drink.

He scanned the area as finished His ascent into the so-called Cloud District. The first thing besides the misleading name that was noticeable was the gigantic dying tree. Had it been living it would have perhaps been beautiful, combined with the scenic features of the covered walkways and the circular water features would have made it breathtaking. Despite its necrotic state, robed women in yellow and orange tended to it, culling weeds and watering flowers around it. They appeared similar to the priestess who was attempting to administer rights at the execution the previous day. Perhaps they were an offset branch, but He filed that information away for later. Instead, focus was given to the keep behind it, risen on another flight of stairs that shared the base of the water fixture. He continued around the walkway, approaching the objective.

"You."

He paused, turning about as the sounds of His three pursuers boots hit the cobblestone. The lead one had spoken, her tattooed face askew and eyes afire. "You took down a giant with your bare hands." She paused, searching for the right words. "We could have killed it without your interference." He looked down at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Had I not approached the beast, more would have been injured. Perhaps even yourselves."

She scowled at that, but then nodded her head, the other two watching the conversation with guarded interest. She looked to the right, towards a massive wooden structure, as if judging something before looking back to Him. "I suppose that is true enough. Though I will admit I have never seen someone go hand to hand with a giant before. I am Aela the Huntress. I would know your name." It was bold of Aela to not phrase it as a question and she knew it. Still, He had been impressed when she had stared down the creature as it charged.

"I am known as Karassus."

She swallowed, before nodding. "Well, Krassus, should you ever seek it, the Companions are looking for worthy warriors to join them." She went to continue but was interrupted.

"Who are the Companions?"

She blinked, not expecting the question, for after all, who in Skyrim had not heard of the mighty Companions? She attempted to formulate an answer, but was beaten to the punch when Farkas spoke up.

"The Companions are a group of warriors, known as Shield Brothers," he was nearly struck by the glare from both the females when he said that, but recovered swiftly, " and Sisters, who fight and hunt the monsters who would harm the people of Skyrim." He beamed at that, his pride at such an occupation admittedly well deserved. "The pay is pretty good as well." He added in, but looked away from Aela quickly to avoid her judging gaze.

"Is it possible," He ground out, weighing the idea in His head, "for one such as I to join?"

Their leader looked back up at Him, as if weighing the matter internally. "That is not up for us to decide. If you wish to join, then speak to Kodlak in Jorvasker. He will be the judge of that." She pointed to the structure she was looking at earlier. "Barring that, we appreciate your assistance today, it certainly made one of our quickest hunts." She smiled, and raised her arm, palm open. "You fought well Krassus, and should join us, I have a feeling that many of your tales will be sung in the halls of our ancestors." He reached down with His free hand and gripped her own, His larger palm engulfing her hand. Lightly applying pressure, He shook it in good nature, but even then, her eyes flickered to the appendage as if the iron grip would suddenly flatten her hand. Releasing the handshake, the two parties broke off, and Farkas nodded his head in His direction before the group of Companions moved towards Jorvasker.

He instead, turned towards the stairs leading towards Dragon's Reach.

Irileth considered herself a patient woman, but it was on days like these that she regretted the position of Housecarl. The focus of her annoyance was her charge's steward, Proventus. Now, on a decent day the man could be considered dutiful and meticulous, but on a bad day, well, annoying could be an understatement. Today was turning quickly into one of those bad days. Today's subject of government was yet another argument on the current militaristic state of Whiterun.

It would have been a relative matter of importance if it hadn't been the forth one this week.

She turned, headache growing as Hrongar decided to weigh in on the conversation. The man was near opposite of his brother, decidedly in the volume department. Imperial arrogance versus Nord stubbornness, but if it came down to a fist fight she would put Septims on Hrongar. Even her charge was affected by the two bickering, face slowly transforming into a scowl as if he had tasted burned meat. He turned to her, and upon seeing her own expression, smiled almost apologetically before turning back to the two men and politely interrupting. Hrongar relented, before returning to his seat at the great table.

And then the doors to the Hall opened.

On other days she would have left the guards to deal with the intruder, but the stature of the man who had forced the doors open astounded her. She could see the top of His head from here, and it hit her a second later that He had pushed aside one of the doors with but a single hand. Reacting instinctively she drew her blade and jogged down the steps, quick to intercept the one being in the Hall besides Farengar would require several men to take down. The man, if He could be called that, was dressed akin to a barbarian, with the only visible attachment to His person was a wooden chest hefted over a shoulder. He made to approach the steps before she called out.

"What is the meaning of this?" she gazed at the guards who reeled at her raised tone, "The Jarl will not tolerate interruptions today." The phrase was hollow but neither of the guards argued, merely backing away from the man between them. He took a step forward, provoking her to raise her blade at Him. Here, midway up the steps, they were eye to eye. Then, He spoke.

"I come bearing a message from Gerdur of Riverwood, the village is in danger." He spoke, voice booming across the Hall. If not for the fact that she was expecting a fight, she would have been left staggered by the mere power of the voice. The message carried clear across the hall, and just as she was about to accept the message, her charge spoke from atop his throne.

"Irileth, come here, and bring that visitor, I would hear what He has to say." The Jarl's voice seemed comically small and far off compared to the rumbling bass of the man before her. She bowed her head as she faced in his direction, before returning to the giant with an offered statement.

"Follow me, but do not try my patience."

They ascended together, but the woman had thankfully put away her weapon, and was attempting to keep pace as He approached the Throne of Jarl Balgruuf. The man besides him gasped, a hand covering his mouth in shock, and the man at the table nearly bounced out of his seat as He halted before His intended target. The Jarl raised an eyebrow, but spoke. "So what dangers do Riverwood face in these dark days?" he held his chin up before continuing, "Surely not a group of bandits or the odd troll?"

"A Dragon."

The air grew silent, and even the roaring fire in the center of the hall seemed to dim. Balgruff himself scowled at the news, before gesturing for Him to continue. "It has destroyed Helgen and routed the Imperial garrison there. Last I saw it was headed northwest, bearing down a series of ruins in the mountain. Gerdur imparted Myself with a quest to deliver this information to you and askance of support." The man to the left of the throne appeared even more shocked than before, and would have spoken if not for Balgruuf raising a hand to preemptively silence him. He turned to the ashen skinned bodyguard.

"It appears you were right Irileth, though I would not say that is a good thing.", he continued, "Though you said that the entire Imperial Garrison at Helgen was routed and the place was burned to the ground. How could they not see something like a dragon coming?"

"They were focused on other matters. From what I understand the Imperials had ambushed a battlegroup of Stormcloaks nere Deep Rock Crossing and were moving them yesterday morning for execution. Ulfric Stormcloak was among them." Jarl Balgruuf raised an eye at this.

"I should have known Ulfric was mixed up in all if this is true then the entire hold is in imminent danger." He stood up, approaching Him. "You've done the people of Whiterun a great service by bearing this information, and I won't soon forget it." Balgruuf turned and gestured to his bodyguard. "Irileth, rouse a detachment to reinforce the garrison at Riverwood, and double the current patrols. If that dragon is lurking in these lands I want to know about it." The gaze fell back to Him, "There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He might be able to shed some light on why this dragon has revealed itself.

The two of them parted down the hall, before taking a sharp turn to enter into an unguarded side room. A single occupant resided within, combing over maps and what appeared to be a runic array. The blue robed figure appeared deep in study. The Jarl coughed slightly, causing the hooded figure to glance up, revealing a clean yet gaunt face, and orange hair. "Farengar, how goes your studies?" The man smiled slightly.

"Well my Jarl, it is interesting to hear of a dragon appearing in a time like this. Color me surprised at the fact considering the whole 'civil war' on top of it." he approached the open side of the table, curiously gazing up as Him as he did. "In fact, part of my other research is entwined with a certain object that I require." The jarl merely blinked at Farengar's manner of speech. "I could use some help, which I assume is why this fellow is here?"

"Yes, I will leave you two to discuss whatever needs doing." Balgruuf seemed in a rush to leave the room, quickly disappearing out of sight, but His focus was solely on the psyker before Him.

"What needs doing?" Despite the echo in the chamber, the man took it in stride.

"Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. 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."

"Where and how far?"

"Not one for 20 questions? Alright, the tablet is in a series of ancient ruins known as Bleakfalls Barrow. It'll be a day's travel south of here and then up the mountain paths near Riverwood, which I overheard you came from there. The tablet is known as the Dragon Stone."

"Enemy and numerical distribution?"

"Worst you could possibly see is a few bandits crazy enough to hole up in there, other than that, possibly Draugur." He raised an eye at that.

"Draugur?"

"I'm guessing you're not familiar with dungeon travelling then. Draugur are essentially reanimated bodies of long dead nords from a bygone era. The magic that holds them together is usually based around the ruins or areas they were laid to rest in, so you won't see them randomly wandering the countryside." he paused, thinking slightly, "You shouldn't have to much trouble with them, considering your stature, and the assumption that your chest there carries more than just food and coin. Though do be cautious around the more ornately buried ones, they tend to be rather vicious fighters and are often chieftains or peerless warriors from what I understand."

"Understood. I'll depart immediately." That got Farengar to blink, after all, it was already midday, and it would be ill advised to travel in the dark. He made to voice such concerns only to preempted. "I will be able to cover enough ground within the next couple of hours to return to Riverwood. From there I will set out in the morning to acquire this tablet of yours." Farengar nodded at that, it seemed that his Jarl had finally given him an adventurer of decent stock.

And of what stock He was.