-Ch. 3-

"Riverwood calls for the Jarl's aid!" Oz pleaded with the guards at the city gate. He was a bit worse for wear after trudging through Bleak Falls Barrow, but he had looted some new gear and should at least look the part of journeyman hero. He was eager to report to the Jarl for Gerdur, and return to Camila with her golden claw.

"Fine, better get inside." One said as his partner opened the gate. Oz regarded Whiterun for the first time, wide eyed. Markarth was an impressive city, but it was built by the Dwarves. This was built by the people of Skyrim.

Oz walked the streets amazed, taking note of the various shops and merchants. A few citizens glared, seemingly unused to seeing an Orsimer. Others were polite and pleasant, excited to see a new face in town.

The young Orc took note of the pretty women here in Whiterun. There were only a few Nord families in Markarth, but there were plenty of Nord priestesses at the Temple of Dibella, so he already understood the appeal.

He also took note of the non-Nordic citizens, which were few and far between. As he came upon the Market Square, he saw a bosmer, as well as a few redguard men - One a merchant of some kind, the other two warriors.

"I've told you, I don't know anything. Now unhand me or I will have you before the Jarl's axeman!" The merchant said in a snide voice. "You clearly have no idea who I am. I own Chillfurrow Farm. Very successful business. Obviously." The merchant seemed to take notice of Oz as he walked passed.

"You there! Orc!" The merchant called out. "These men are looking for a Redguardwoman here in town, and they're offering money. You clearly need it more than me." He turned back to the warriors. "Go now, bother him." He said finally turning heel as the warriors turned their gaze to Oz.

Oz blinked for a moment, before pointing to Dragonsreach, the grand palace atop the hill. "I'm… just passing through."

"Well, we'll be in Rorikstead if you hear anything." One said curtly as they began walking back towards the city gates.

–

Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was a kind man, despite his tough and regal facade. Oz was greeted by a Dunmer's sword in his face, but the Jarl quickly calmed his nerves when Oz reported the news.

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" Balrguuf muttered in disbelief. "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?" He taunted his steward.

"My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains..." The dunmer woman, Irileth, said as she lowered her sword from Ozgar.

Before the Jarl could respond, Proventus spoke up. "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him. We should not -"

"Enough!" Balgruuf's voice rang through the palatial hall. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl." She said with a salute, before taking her leave.

Proventus spoke looking down at the floor. "If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best." Balgruuf said dismissively as Proventus shamefully shuffled out of the throne room. Balgruuf turned his attention to Oz, who swallowed and stood up straight.

"Well done." He said to the young orc. "You sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it."

Ozgar's heart swelled with pride. He took a deep breath before speaking. "It's my honor, Jarl Balgruuf."

Balgruuf nodded his head to Oz in respect."There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps." He stood, appraising the strapping young battlemage. "Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons."

"O..Of course, my Jarl." Oz said, trailing behind the Jarl as he guided Oz to his court wizard's lab.

Farengar was an odd looking man, with big bushy mutton chops. He was hunched over his desk pouring over letters and schematics when Oz and the Jarl walked in.

"Farengar," Balgruuf greeted, his deep voice causing the wizard to almost jump from his chair. "I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him in with all the details." Blagruuf patted Oz on the back, and took his leave.

Farengar slowly stood from his desk and walked over to Oz.

Oz swallowed. "Hello." He greeted.

Farengar ignored him and began examining Oz, uncomfortably close. "So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons." He said, continuing to wander around Ozgar. "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."

Oz tilted his head to the side. "You're not talking about Bleak Falls Barrow, are you?"

Farengar blinked, shocked. He was not a man that was surprised often. Or at least, he would never let anyone see. "That is where I was sending you…" He mused.

Oz pulled a stone slab from his bag. "And was I going to fetch this old stone?"

"Ah! The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow!" Farengar laughed and clapped his hands together. "You already found it! You are cut from a different cloth than the usual brutes the Jarl foists on me."

Oz smiled proudly as he handed the slab to Farengar. "Yeah, it's actually a pretty interesting story. You see -"

"Farengar! Farengar," Irileth's voice rang through the halls, accompanied by frantic footsteps. "You need to come at once. A dragon's been sighted nearby."

The room fell silent, save for Irileth catching her breath. She turned her gaze to Ozgar. "You should come, too."