Whiterun was a pretty place, Bradley had to admit. High walls, a nice layout, beautiful foliage, and quaint little cottages of wood and stone. But if this was supposed to be a city, he had to admit, the population and size of it was... Disappointing.

Still, he wasn't here for the scenery, or even to judge the town itself. He needed to find Dragonsreach, after all. Deliver the message from Alvor. Thanks to the layout, it was quite simple to locate. A manor at the top of the hill, just as the guard at the gate said. He climbed the stone stairs, passed the torch bearing guards patrolling the entrance with a few polite nods, then entered.

He found himself in what appeared to be a combination of entrance hall, dining hall, and throne room. As he ascended the stairs, he took note of two rooms off to the side; a kitchen to the left, and some sort of laboratory to the right, the latter of which was occupied by a man in blue robes, pouring through a book and consulting a some notes at the same time.

Up by the throne, past an open fireplace, were four people. The first he took note of was a woman in leather armor, with a sword at her side. Her skin was the color of charcoal, and her ears were pointed, much like the Thalmor at Helgen. Another elf, obviously, but there were differences between her and the one he'd caught a glance at; even ignoring skin tone entirely. Besides, this one was some sort of bodyguard, while the first elf had been an obvious aristocrat.

The other three were humans, one in a thick, blue robe and the other in much finer clothes and a circlet, seated upon the throne. The Jarl and... Bradley believed the term would be Steward. The last was another guard, standing at attention by a set of stairs leading up to the next story.

As Bradley approached, the elf turned on her heel, drawing her blade as she walked slowly towards him. He stopped in his tracks, one hand on his own sword, but not drawing it just yet.

The woman stopped a few feet away from him, her black eyes glaring daggers into his own. "What's the meaning of this interruption," she demanded. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

Bradley bowed his head, never taking his eye off of her. She was ready for action, that he could tell from the tensing of her muscles; but she wasn't engaging. Not yet. The only fight to be had here would be one he forced. She was a good soldier, and he had no intention of causing a scene tonight.

"I have a message for the Jarl," he answered her calmly. "Riverwood calls for aid."

Her eyes narrowed, but a little of her tension disappeared. Only a little. "As housecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people. So you have my attention. Now, explain yourself."

Bradley nodded. This woman, inhuman as she was, reminded him strongly of Riza Hawkeye. A damned good soldier, albeit with split loyalty. In that way, he supposed they differed. Unlike Riza's forced service to him as secretary and hostage, this woman showed no hesitation, nor hostility to her Jarl.

"A dragon has attacked Helgen," he said simply. "I am one of the survivors." Over her shoulder, he could see the Jarl and Steward's conversation halting, their attention drawn to him.

The woman blinked, her stance growing lax in her surprise. "You were at Helgen?" Sheathing her sword, she motioned to the throne. "The Jarl will wish to speak with you personally. Approach."

With another nod, Bradley did so, not taking any offense when she insisted on following her closely. The more she did, the more Bradley found himself liking her. Taking a moment to address the unexpected intruder, while doing her utmost to avoid unnecessary violence, and anticipating her commander's orders? What he wouldn't have given for a hundred of her in the Amestrian military. With himself at the head, they would've been an unstoppable force.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne, kneeling before the Jarl without a word. It would be rude for a commoner to begin a conversation with a noble, after all.

"So," the man said, stroking his braided beard. "You were at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

Balgruuf was a good actor, Bradley mused to himself, but under the Ultimate Eye, the man was practically shivering in his boots. From what Hadvar had said, dragons were just a folk tale, something to scare the children into behaving, or just to excite the imaginations of curious adults. It was probably fair to assume that the Nords had all grown up with these tales. To suddenly receive word that they might be real... Bradley could almost not fault the man for feeling such fear. Almost.

Bradley nodded once again. "It had scales as black as night, your grace," he answered, "And burning red eyes. I myself got a few good looks before escaping its wrath."

Balgruuf frowned. "Pretty descriptive. And where is the dragon now?"

Bradley shrugged. "To be honest, I cannot say. After it destroyed Helgen, I saw it heading in this direction. But at the speed it was going in, it should have arrived much sooner than I. Either it stopped along the way, or its destination lies elsewhere."

With a nod, Balgruuf sighed. "Thank you for your honesty. And you are from Helgen?"

Bradley shook his head. "I am merely a passing traveler from Cyrodiil, my Jarl." The lying grated on his nerves, but it was far simpler to keep at it than to explain his true origin and nature. "My name is Bradley, and I simply wished to repay a debt to... a friend."

"I see," Balgruuf said with another nod. "I thank you for this news." He then turned to the Steward, asking with just a hint of scorn, "What do you say now, Proventus? Do we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?" His fear was coming out as anger now, his duty the only thing keeping it in check.

The elven woman put a hand to her chest, bowing at the hip. "My lord," she said, "We should send a detachment to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains-"

The Steward shook his head, interrupting her as he protested, "The Jarl of Falkreath will view this as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him! We should not-"

Balgruuf sliced a hand through the air, cutting him off. "ENOUGH!"

Both fell silent, bowing their heads as Balgruuf collected himself.

Taking a deep breath, the Jarl ground out, "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned towards the woman, nodding to her. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once!"

Irileth nodded back to him, the corners of her lips twitching upwards, though there was no mirth in her eyes. "Yes, my Jarl," she said, turning and marching to the front door.

Proventus bowed to the Jarl, an apologetic look on his face. "If you'll excuse me," he said softly, "I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best," Balgruuf responded, watching the Steward head for the stairs on the right. Bradley could tell that the Jarl's forgiveness would come in time, but not this night.

As for Bradley himself, he hadn't yet been excused, so he waited patiently where he knelt.

Balgruuf finally returned his attention to the homunculus, actually smiling. "Rise, Bradley."

Bradley did so, holding his arms behind his back.

"Well done," Balgruuf said appreciatively. "You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it." He snapped his fingers, and the guard by the stairs reached into a nearby chest, drawing out a set of iron armor. "Please," Balgruuf said as the guard approached Bradley. "Accept this gift from my personal armory."

Bradley bowed his head, graciously accepting the armor. He wouldn't ever use it, of course, but he had seen a blacksmith's shop at the main gate. If anything, it would fetch him a few coins.

Balgruuf stroked his beard again, clearly sizing Bradley up. "There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for a man with your skills, perhaps?"

Bradley smiled, bowing his head for the umpteenth time. At least he wouldn't have to go job hunting just yet. "I am honored to serve you, my lord."

Balgruuf smiled, getting to his feet. "Come," he said, motioning for Bradley to follow him. "Let's go meet Farengar; my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... Rumors of dragons."

Without much ceremony, Bradley followed Balgruuf into the lab, where the robed man was still consulting his notes.

"Farengar," Balgruuf called, stepping over to the desk where the wizard sat. "I think I've found someone who can help you with your little dragon project." He motioned to Bradley, continuing, "Go ahead and fill him in with all the details."

Farengar looked up from his notes, squinting at Bradley with a small frown. "So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me?" he asked, stroking his hairless chin in thought.

Without waiting for an answer (this trend was starting to annoy Bradley), he nodded, "Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me." He then grimaced, quickly adding, "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."

Bradley tilted his head. "I assume this tablet has something to do with the dragons. But I'm curious, what do you expect it to contain?"

Farengar's eyes lit up, and a grin crossed his hooded face. "Ah, no mere brute mercenary," he proclaimed happily, "But a thinker- perhaps even a scholar?" He got to his feet, clearing his throat. "You see," he began, "When the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities. One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything outside his experience as being impossible. But I began to search for information about the dragons. Where had they gone all those years ago? And where are they coming from?"

"I see," Bradley said, cupping his chin in thought. "So, where am I going for this tablet?"

Farengar cleared his throat, nervousness creeping into his demeanor. "I, uh, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow - A 'Dragonstone', said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet, no doubt interred in the main chamber, and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."

Bradley nodded again. "And this would be the barrow on the mountain overlooking Riverwood, yes?"

"Ah, so you already know where it is," Farengar answered with a nod. "Yes, they're one and the same. One of the locals should be able to show you the path up the mountain."

"And how do you know it is in Bleak Falls Barrow?" Bradley pressed. "I would like to know beforehand if my efforts will be for naught."

Farengar cleared his throat again. "Well," he said awkwardly, "Must reserve some professional secrets, mustn't we? I have my sources. Reliable sources."

Bradley's eye narrowed, but he could tell that, without forcing the issue, that was all he was going to get out of the man. And with the Jarl watching over his shoulder... Best to play it safe.

Speaking of the Jarl, Balgruuf chose this moment to re-enter the conversation. "This is a priority now," the man said, stepping forward. "Anything we can use to fight this dragon. Or... dragons. We need it, quickly, before it's too late."

Farengar bowed his head to the Jarl. "Of course, Jarl Balgruuf. You seem to have found me an able assistant. I'm sure he will prove most useful."

Balgruuf met Bradley's gaze with his own, squaring his shoulders. "Succeed at this, and you'll be rewarded. Whiterun will forever be in your debt."

Bradley smiled, bowing once more to him. "And I shall not fail, my lord."

"Good," Balgruuf said with a nod. "Go, and return as soon as you can."

With another nod and a polite farewell, Bradley strolled out of Dragonsreach.


Aela was peeved. Farkas didn't care, of course, but Ria was quite nervous.

Ria was the newest member of the Companions, an honorable guild of warriors that made their home in the hall of Jorrvaskr. An Imperial warrior of some skill, though there were plenty who outclassed her completely. Especially the members of the Inner Circle, of which Aela and Farkas were two.

Both were Nords, each a great warrior in their own right. But they had vastly different approaches to combat. Farkas, who reminded her of a wet greyhound quite often, was a fortress of a man, clothed in steel and wielding a greatsword. Aela, on the other hand, was more of a fox, who relied on her agility and arrows to carry her through a fight. Together, they were almost unstoppable, while Ria was just lucky to be in their presence.

Which is why she hadn't begrudged the one eyed stranger who'd passed by while they did battle with a giant who'd stumbled his way onto Palagia Farm. Even she could tell that it was on its last legs, so to speak, and its struggle was futile.

Aela, of course, was furious.

"I hope that man drowns somewhere," she growled as they passed through the gates into Whiterun. "Let him have an inglorious death somewhere in the wilds, forgotten by all who ever met him."

Farkas rolled his eyes. "Come on, Aela," he grumbled. "You've been bitching ever since we left the farm. Just give it a rest already."

"I will let it rest when I want to," she grumbled. "Who does he think he is, anyways? Talos himself? Ysgramor?"

Despite her better instincts, Ria cleared her throat. "Perhaps it's unfair to judge everyone by our standards?" she asked hesitantly. "Maybe he was just scared to engage with a desperate giant? I know I would have before training with you and the other Companions."

Aela waved a finger at Ria. "That's just it, Ria. He wasn't frightened. He just..." She took a moment to rein in her rage enough to find the words. "Took one look at the battle, and decided it was... beneath his notice. Like it didn't matter!"

Farkas elbowed Aela's shoulder. "Quiet down for a moment."

Aela's furious gaze turned towards him. "I will not-"

With one hand, Farkas gripped Aela's head, turning it towards the Bannered Mare up ahead.

The one eyed man was walking up the steps, letting himself into the tavern.

Aela was silent as Farkas released her. After a few seconds, she glared at him again, though most of her fury was gone. Or... redirected, Ria supposed. "Do that again," Aela warned the big man, "And you can say goodbye to that hand, pup."

Farkas just smirked, raising a hand towards the tavern. "Go get him," he said invitingly.

Aela huffed, marching up to the door.

Ria just stared open mouthed after her. "What was..."

Farkas chuckled, clapping her on the back. "Come on, I don't wanna miss the show. Do you?"

Ria sighed heavily, guiltily admitting, "No..."


Bradley had decided to hit the road in the morning. At the moment, he was hungry and thirsty, and could use a good night's rest after the... quite eventful day he'd had. First capture, then an execution avoided only by a dragon attack, the skirmishes through Helgen's keep, and now his new assignment from the Jarl himself. If anyone deserved a little quiet celebration, Bradley most certainly did.

He had already paid for his room on the second floor, and was about to head up to enjoy some supper when the front door burst open, and everyone turned to face the newcomer. Out of curiosity, and a well honed sense of danger, he turned to regard them as well.

It was the woman from the giant fight. Wearing a rather... lacking set of leather armor, wearing green stripes of war paint across her face, as well as a bow and quiver of arrows on her back. She was a little thin, but he could tell that every bit of meat on her was pure muscle. Deceptively strong. Which did make sense, what with her being a seasoned archer.

And her glare was squarely on him. Given the shocked expressions on everyone else's faces, this was most unexpected. Clearly, she was well known in this community.

And, for some reason, she had some petty quarrel with him. If anything, this should be interesting.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely as she approached. He noticed her two companions slipping in behind her, but they seemed content to wait at the sidelines.

She huffed, folding her arms. "Couldn't help but notice you pass by our battle with the giant," she said coldly. "We defeated it, of course. No thanks to you."

Bradley sighed, shaking his head. "I apologize for any slight I may have taken against you," he answered as cordially as possible. It was clear she was looking for a fight, and he was in no mood for it. "But it was quite clear you had it well in hand."

"Certainly not," she responded, puffing out her chest with pride. "But a true warrior would have relished the opportunity to take on a giant."

Bradley had known true wrath ever since he'd bonded with the philosopher's stone at his core. And this woman was starting to get on his nerves.

"So," he said, stroking his chin as he reined in his emotions, "Rather than allow you to do your jobs while I was on an assignment of my own, you would have had me devote my energy and precious time to deal a final blow against a defeated enemy? Our definitions of 'true warrior' must differ, then."

Her nostrils flared, and a flash of gold passed through her eyes in an instant. It wasn't something a normal human would've caught, but Bradley had. So, this woman wasn't simply human. This might be interesting after all.

The woman balled her fists, growling lowly, "You would hide behind your own business rather than admit your cowardice?"

"Hardly," Bradley answered. "I simply had better things to do with my time than throw off your team's coordination. You've clearly been well trained, but I sensed some hesitation in your female friend's actions."

The woman blinked, her rage forgotten for a moment. "You... could tell that? From just a moment's glance?"

Bradley nodded, forcing another friendly smile. "I was once a... Commander of a military force. You tend to pick things up like that as you go." He glanced over her shoulder at the other woman, who was bashfully gazing at the floor. "She is a fine warrior as well. She simply needs to learn to let go of her self doubt."

The first woman pursed her lips, visibly reassessing him. "Perhaps I misjudged you," she muttered. "A warrior with an eye like that would be welcome amongst my shield-brothers."

Bradley frowned, tilting his head. "And what is a shield-brother?"

The woman smirked. "An outsider, huh? Never heard of the Companions?" She motioned to her friends. "An order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor. And we show up to solve problems, if the coin is good enough."

"I see," Bradley muttered, considering the trio. "Perhaps if I find the time, I may stop by for a look. We shall see."

She huffed again. "Well, if you think you're better than we are, go talk with Kodlak Whitemane. See what a warrior of true mettle is like." She then turned on her heel, motioning to the others, and they wandered off into the night.

Throughout the entire conversation, Bradley had noted the open mouthed gazes of everyone in the tavern. Even now, they still stared at him, frozen in place.

He shrugged it off, strolling to the stairs. He'd had enough socialization and combat for one day. Now was the time for rest.


"I gotta admit, sister," Farkas said with a chuckle. "But I'm disappointed you didn't tear him limb from limb."

Aela glared at Farkas. "If he wasn't bluffing, then why waste a good recruitment opportunity? We have empty beds in the hall, and we could always use an eye like his. Besides..." She patted Ria on the back. "Even if it was a bluff, he was right about you. You're a great warrior, Ria. I'm quite proud to call you my sister."

Ria sighed. "Your pity isn't necessary, Aela. I did hesitate against the giant. I... Probably would've died if I was out on my own."

"But you weren't," Aela answered sternly. "And that self doubt of yours is going to kill you quicker than any lack of skill."

"I know," she groaned. "I just... I constantly second guess my every move. I can't... I can't help it."

"Unless you're in a drunken brawl with Athis," Farkas noted. "Maybe we oughta-"

Aela smacked the big man's arm. "We are not getting the pup drunk before her missions, ice brain. Just for that, you'll be training her in the morning."

Farkas scowled. "I have my own business to get to, Aela."

"And it's nothing that can't wait," she sarcastically assured him, giving him a little pat on the cheek. "Now, come on. I'm sure they've started supper without us."