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Part THREE: Whiterun
"I used to be an adventurer like you..."
I climb down the mountain and make my way back to Riverwood. I arrive in the village without incident or running into anything that wants to try and make me into a rug, as so many bandits have already told me they want to do with my skin. It's early in the morning, I would guess around 3:00, so I head into the inn and re-rent my room before sleeping until noon. Just as with the previous day, I leave the Sleeping Giant and head to the general store. The owner and his sister (who suddenly seems to be interested in me, now that I've simply returned with a claw made of gold) thank me and offer me four hundred septims for the claw back. The price is fair, and will make up for almost the entire award that I will never get for Hadvar's assassination, but I am loathed to give up the claw. Something of that much craftsmanship and shiny attracts my eye fiercely, but I must admit that four hundred gold is more than I would probably get if I kept it and tried to sell it to another merchant. So it is with sadness that I agree to the transaction and hand over the golden beauty.
Look at him, standing there with that look while MY claw sits on his counter... Oh well...
Before I leave the Trader, I show Lucan the strange stone I found in the Barrow. He says he won't buy it, as he has no clue as to its value, but that I should try the court wizard in Whiterun. He said that he had heard that the wizard, Farengar, was looking into dragons and could probably benefit from something of the like. With that information, I finish selling the clerk the rest of my treasures I had gotten from the dungeon and head out for the hold capital.
As I get within sight of the city, I see a group of Imperial soldiers with a Stormcloak captive walking in the same direction ahead of me. Any normal person would leave the group alone, but I am no normal person, am I? I think that now is a good time to let you all know that I have a game I like to play. It's called "Which is stronger? An Imperial or a Nord?" Basically, I kill any Legionaires or Stormcloaks I encounter. It's a fun game, really. With that said, I drop into a crouch and begin stalking the group. Drawing my ancient nord bow that I had gotten from the Barrow, I fit a newly purchased steel arrow to the string and let it fly. The Stormcloak prisoner laid dead on the ground before the Imperials even knew what happened. Drawing their swords, they begin looking for me. I pump two arrows into one, causing him to crumple, before charging in to take on the others sword-to-claw. Within a few seconds, the last Imperial fell dead. I strip the men of their daggers, arrows, and take one of their bows. I drop my old bow on the bodies, no longer in need of it, and continue on my way as if nothing had happened.
Before I can make it to the city proper, I see off to my left several people attacking someone. No.. something. A giant. I pull out my imperial bow and help to finish off the beast. As it falls, one of them, a Nord woman, comes up to me and tells me I should join her and her companions. I politefully decline by wordlessly walking past her, picking my arrows out of the giant, and then walk past her again to finish my journey to the city. Thankfully, she didn't try asking again.
Now THAT is a big giant... Pun intended.
I FINALLY make it into the city (after meeting some fellow Khajiits camped outside the walls and finally selling all of my Imperial armor and weapons that had been weighing me down), only to immediately be talked down to by a guard. "Keep your hands to yourself, sneak thief." I take offense. Sure, I may be a Khajiit, and we aren't the most honest of races, and sure, I may actually BE a sneak thief, but that's beside the point. You don't see me calling you a "drunken baboon," do you? No. So don't call me a "sneak theif." Racist bastard. I walk to the square and find the general store, hoping that, just maybe, this man will be willing to buy the stone. I don't do well with royalty, and wanted to stay away from the Jarl's palace if possible. As predicted, the Breton that ran the goods store didn't want the stone. Great. Now I HAVE to go speak to the pompous, ignorant Jarl.
The next guard to make a racist comment to me is getting an arrow in the knee and being thrown down that well. Hear me?
I rent a room at the city's inn, but before I go to bed, I decide to check out some constant yelling I head heard from the square adjacent to the main one. I head up the stairs and I am greeted by a giant statue of the Nordic devine, Talos. As a Khajiit, I don't have any special feelings towards this particular god, but I do not despise him or his followers. However, the priest that is yelling at anyone within earshot is annoying me. The assassin in me decides to shut him up... Permenently. I pick a high point in the city and stand patiently, waiting for no one to be looking so I can get an arrow into this priests back. As soon as everyone's back is turned... whoosh! The priest falls without so much as a yelp. Pleased with myself, I jump down and loot his body, taking all of his jewlery that he had on him. With silence filling the streets, I return to the inn, where I catch some sleep before morning arrives.
Where is your god now? Hmm? That statue isn't going to save you.
As the sun comes through the window of my room at the inn, I strap on my armor (I need to get back to the Sanctuary soon, I miss being able to wear my shrouded armor instead of what I'm currently adorning) and head up the steps to the palace. I'm looking for the court wizard when a Dunmer approaches me, sword drawn. She begins interrogating me about what I want, and in a slight panic, I tell her I have news from Helgen. She escorts me to the Jarl, who I had been hoping to avoid, and he begins questioning me. I figure that they will forget about asking me why I was in at Helgen at the same time as the dragon and Stormcloak prisoners if I try to blame Ulfric, so that's what I do. The Jarl accepts the bait, cursing the Jarl of Windhelm and forgetting all about any possible reason why a no-good "sneak thief" would have been in Helgen. As I try to find a reason to slip away and find the court wizard, Balgruuf, the Jarl, asks me to follow him. Sighing to myself, I oblige him. To my pleasant surprise, he takes me straight to Farengar, who seems to have a mission for me. As if my very being was all planned out by the divines, the wizard was looking for the very stone I had in my bag, and was going to send me out to go find it had I not already had it. Just as I'm patting myself on the back for my cleverness, the Dark Elf comes running into the room yelling about dragons. She says that the Jarl needs both the wizard's help and mine. Me? Fight a dragon? Are you mad, woman? I'm an assassin. We hide from danger, not charge at it when it can shoot fire from it's gullet!
Can you see the fear in my eyes? How about the anger in hers?
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