Survival

The ear-splitting roar of the dragon diminished as it finally seemed to leave us alone, both of us ducking below a rocky outcrop, Ralof peering over it beside me to make sure it definitely was departing.

"It's finally leaving us alone!" my fellow Nord exclaimed before he turned and took a seat beside me, leaning back and closing his eyes, sucking in deep breaths, both of us calming our furious heart rates.

"What was all that about?" I finally asked, "Dragons? I thought they were a myth!"

"So did I."

I paused as I went over everything that had just happened. "Do you think the Jarl go to safety?"

Ralof grinned. "It will take more than a dragon to kill Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak."

We sat in silence again, both comprehending the fact we had just witnessed a dragon attack and had managed to survive. The town we had been in, Helgen, was completely destroyed, though I was thankful to just have my head on my shoulders. 'A few more seconds and I'd be dead.' In all my time with the Fighter's Guild, I'd never had a fight similar to that of our escape from Helgen, Ralof and I cutting through numerous Imperial soldiers. I take the view it was only in self-defence, having been wrongly arrested and then my escape hindered by them trying to kill me. But it was the revelation of a torture chamber, the fact the Empire carried out such atrocities against my people, that only hardened my resolve to join the so called rebellion.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

Ralof got to his feet and gestured in the distance. "My home of Riverwood is not far from here. We should head there. We'll be safe for a while."

I got to my feet and we started walking. After the madness of the previous hour, all was now serene. Quiet. Calm. It reminded me of my old home back in Chorrol, the forest spreading as far as the eye could see.

"Don't suppose there would be any chance of retrieving my old weapons and armour?"

"That would be long gone, kinsman. In fact, through all this, I don't believe I know your name."

I held out my hand. "Ragnar of Chorrol."

"Ralof of Riverwood. Well met," he said as we shook hands, "So what brings you to Skyrim, Ragnar?"

"I come to fight."

"Who do you come to fight for?"

"The Stormcloaks."

Ralof stopped in his tracks, looking at me with a keen eye, as if judging my words. "Why do you want to fight for us?"

"Talos. Elves dictate to us who we can or cannot worship. That is not right. The Empire turned their back on Talos. That is reason enough to fight."

Ralof kept his eye on me, as if judging my sincerity, before he nodded. "Aye. A good reason to fight," he finally stated as we continued walking.

"Why do you fight?"

"Freedom. Many of us fight for a free Skyrim in addition to our free worship of mighty Talos. The Empire has proven itself weak over the centuries, province after province turning their backs. Little wonder. The Septim dynasty died out a long time ago. The Emperor who now sits on the throne is nothing but a pretender. But that is not all. Skyrim should be ruled by a Nord. The High King of Skyrim should be the undisputed ruler of our land, and not subservient to someone from the Imperial City. And we should certainly not have our lives dictated by a bunch of elves from the Aldmeri Dominion."

We eventually ended up walking along a road alongside a flowing river, Ralof telling me stories of growing up in the area. It was all relatively idyllic, already thinking that journeying here, despite some of the setbacks, had been the right choice.

As we walked along, Ralof told me about the local hold, pointing at the mountainside in the distance to our left. 'Throat of the World', he called it. It certainly appeared to reach towards the Gods, the top of the mountain disappearing into the clouds high above. He mentioned his village was part of Whiterun hold, the city of Whiterun further north.

Riverwood itself was a tranquil little village, a dozen or so homesteads and shops. I immediately noticed it was undefended, a wall at either end of the main road but I saw no town guards patrolling the area.

"Peaceful," I murmured.

"The war has not affected Whiterun and its surrounding area. At least, it hasn't yet. Jarl Balgruuf has pledged to remain neutral though I don't know how long that will last."

No-one paid us any attention as we walked through the centre of Riverwood, despite the fact we were dressed in Stormcloak clothing. Ralof mentioned his sister, Gerdur, was in charge of the local mill and she would help us out. After a quick reunion, Gerdur immediately shepherded us to her house, out of sight of anyone else who may report on the arrival of two men dressed as Stormcloaks. In the apparent safety of her home, she had us take a seat at the table, grabbing us a bottle of mead each.

"Ralof, it's wonderful to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought you would have been out fighting? Or at least still in the north?"

He took a long drink of mead before replying. "I was captured along with Jarl Ulfric by the Imperials. They laid the perfect trap for us." Gerdur noticeably gasped. "It is only thanks to my friend here," gesturing towards me, "That I'm even here now to tell you the story."

She turned towards me. "Are you a fellow Stormcloak?"

I shook my head. "No. Or, at least, not yet. I was arrested not long after crossing the border from Cyrodil."

"That is not all, Gerdur. The Imperials were going to execute all of us. Including the Jarl. No trial. No honour." His sister gasped again at the revelation. "The Imperials have a new weapon in their arsenal. General Tullius."

"Could this end the stalemate?"

Ralof shrugged. "I don't know. But the Jarl would be concerned at this latest development. I will lay low here for a while before I make my way back to Windhelm. I have no doubt the Jarl will have plans."

Gerdur turned towards me. "And what of you? What is your name?"

"I am Ragnar. And I am not entirely sure what I should do now. I had arrived three days ago with a purse full of gold, two weapons on my back and armour to protect me. Now I have nothing except what I'm wearing, an ordinary iron sword, bow and shield."

"Hmmm… Speak to Alvor, the blacksmith. I'm not entirely sure what you can do without being able to pay, but he may have work for you to do in lieu of gold. But I would certainly hide the Stormcloak cuirass while in Whiterun hold. The area is supposed to be neutral, though both Imperial and Stormcloaks have camps in the area. And, to be honest, there is certainly more pro-Imperial sentiment in this town and I believe in Whiterun too. It is why my brother will keep out of sight until he eventually leaves."

"Is there any way I can make coin?"

"There are plenty of farms in the area who are always on the lookout for help."

I groaned, earning a quizzical look from the pair of them. "I've worked on a farm nearly all my life. I joined the Fighter's Guild to escape that life and to prepare for joining the war effort in Skyrim."

"You're a fighter?" Gerdur asked. I nodded. "The Companions may have work for you then."

"Companions? Are they a Guild?"

Gerdur shrugged. "Of a sort. Seek out Kodlak Whitemane in Jorrvaskr, which is in Whiterun. In fact, if you do head towards Whiterun, could I ask a favour?"

"Of course."

"See if you can gain an audience with the Jarl. Jarl Balgruuf. He is a good man, will certainly want to know of the dragon attack and see if he will send assistance to Riverwood. We are undefended out here and could use some soldiers out this way."

I looked at Ralof. "I can only echo my sister's request. Villages like Riverwood have been forgotten during the war. If dragons have returned, then we're going to need all the help we can get."

I nodded. "Okay. I'll go at once. Do either of you have any armour around that I could borrow?"

"I should have something," Gerdur replied, rifling through a nearby wardrobe, "Ah, here we are. It's only leather…"

"It will do for now."

I would have been happy to stay in Riverwood for a time, working the mill and making some coin, but events were out of my control. And I also wanted to help, and if I couldn't help in the war for the time being, I'd certainly help against dragons. After assembling myself in the armour, Gerdur was nice enough to give me a few coins, just enough to purchase a couple of meals on my arrival in Whiterun. Ralof told me that the road between Riverwood and Whiterun should be clear of soldiers, though I'd have to keep an eye out for wildlife as wild dogs or wolves could be a problem.

The sun was still high in the sky as I departed the little village, Ralof suggesting that I should make my way to Windhelm as soon as possible if I was serious about joining the war effort. Other than that, we shared a handshake, my fellow Nord wishing me a safe journey and onwards I marched.

It was that word again. Tranquil. A reminder of my old home. I could definitely see myself eventually settling down around somewhere like this. Alone with my thoughts, there was only the sounds of the forest around me, the chirping of insects and the roar of the river to my right as it descended into a series of rapids. The road towards Whiterun appeared well-maintained, though I met no traffic coming the other way.

Half an hour later and the path started to descend, the forest clearing and I came to a stop as the view of the plains came into view. There was no missing the large town, which I assumed to be Whiterun, nestled on the hell, the large hall likely allowing a view for miles around. I could see farms spread out into the distance, each with a bumper crop, plenty of farmhands working the fields. I'll admit to feeling a pang of… not regret, but the sense of normality that came with being a simple farmer. Life was simple then. Already my life was taking a turn and I wasn't sure if it would be for better or worse.

A signpost at a crossroads pointed the way to Whiterun. I turned and let my eyes wander, passing the first two guards I'd seen since leaving Bruma, which already felt like a lifetime ago. I walked past more farms, gazing ahead towards the horizon, the plains stretching as far as the eye could see. I had no idea how large Skyrim as a landmass was, but the size and breadth of just this hold was breath-taking.

Movement far off to my left caught my eye. 'The hell is th… Is that… a giant?' Skyrim is home to giants? I jogged towards the giant as there was no missing the sounds of battle, the roar of the giant as it attempted to stamp on something, noticing a trio of people fighting for their lives as I leapt over a low wall. I dumped the shield from my back and sword from my hip, taking out my bow. Normally I would take a lot of time to prepare before I fired an arrow but time was of the essence. I drew back the arrow and felt the tension in the string, taking aim at the giant. Where to hit? Stomach? Legs? No, I'll hit the others. Upper body it is. I let go of the arrow, watching it fly as I grabbed a second one and simply aimed at the same spot, hearing the giant roar as the first, second and third arrows hit home, two in the neck, one in the chest, finally causing it to stagger. The trio of warriors also attacking looked in my direction and roared their approval as the larger male finally got the upper hand, bringing the giant to its knees being running it through with his great-sword. I grabbed my gear as the other warriors walked in my direction.

"You're not bad with a bow," the female stated. She had war paint across her face, dressed in leathers but her major feature was a mane of fiery red hair.

"I'm alright. I didn't have much time to prepare before letting fly."

"Your other weaponry has seen better days though," the male stated, gesturing to my sword and shield.

"I'll have to make do until I can afford better equipment."

"Our task here is done. Do you wish to accompany us back to Whiterun?" the female asked.

I nodded. "Sure. That was my destination."

Stowing weapons, we made introductions as we walked towards Whiterun. Aela was the fiery redhead, sharp with a bow. Farkas was the warrior armed with a great-sword. Ria was the other female, who introduced herself but stayed relatively quiet as I was inundated with questions from the other two. Who was I? Where was I from? Why was I headed to Whiterun? I didn't give too much away, at least not for now, but at least showed an interest in who they were and what they were doing as I found out relatively quickly that they were part of the Companions guild which Gerdur had told me about.

At the two gates, we were stopped by a pair of jobsworth town guards, stepping forward with hands stretched out. "Halt! No entry on orders of the Jarl."

"We're Companions, back from a job, you idiots!" Farkas yelled.

"I don't care who you are. No-one enters without express permission of the Jarl."

"Farkas, we can handle them," Aela suggested.

"Wait a second! There's no need reason to fight," I started before turning my attention to the two guards, "Listen, I come from Riverwood. The village seeks the Jarl's aid. There have been sightings of dragons."

The two guards shared a glance, unable to see concern or worry on their faces, covered by their helmets. One of them turned and looked up. "Open the gates! Riverwood seeks the Jarl's aid!" There was a shout from above and then behind the gates before there were a series of noises then the creak of unoiled hinges as the two giant wooden doors were opened. "The Jarl is at the top of the hill, in Dragonsreach," one of the town guard explained, "Head there right away. He will want to hear the news immediately."

I nodded my thanks as I strode forward. "What is this about dragons?" Aela asked.

"Helgen was destroyed by a dragon. I was there."

"By Ysmir… How did you survive?" Farkas wondered.

"Luck."

"Surely more than that?"

"No. I was…" I stopped. How much should I reveal? I may want to work with them later and, if I was a prisoner, they may block me from joining if they find out I was a prisoner, even if I had done nothing wrong. But then I would be lying, wouldn't I? "I had help from someone who lives in Riverwood. We two survived. I don't know if anyone else did."

I would like to say that I took in the sights and sounds of Whiterun once we had entered the city but my eyes were firmly set on Dragonsreach, towering over the rest of the city at the top of the town. There was the general hub-bub of a busy city – the clang of hammer on metal at a nearby blacksmith and the shouting of traders as we walked through a busy marketplace. Small children weaved their way through the crowds, my own mind wondering if some of them were pickpockets, having had trouble myself back in Chorrol.

At the top of a set of stairs, my three companions bade me farewell, pointing to the large building nearby. "Jorrvaskr," Aela explained, "You should come see us after your meeting with the Jarl."

I nodded. "I'll give it some thought."

"Ask to speak to Kodlak Whitemane if you decide to join us," Farkas added, and after a series of handshakes, the three walked the stairs towards their guildhall.

Meanwhile, my attention was taken by the voice shouting from nearby. And there was no missing the fiery sermon he was giving. Looks like Talos worship isn't completely outlawed then. Dressed in the robes of a monk or priest, if I didn't know any better, not only was he disobeying the law regarding worship of Talos, there was no missing the fact he was an ardent Stormcloak supporter. I would have liked to sit and listen to what was definitely a passionate speech, but I did not think I should delay attempting to visit the Jarl any longer. I may have to talk to this priest later.

I bounded up the stairs towards the giant hall which the guards had called Dragonsreach. It was certainly impressive, the styling far different to most buildings I had seen back in Chorrol and what I knew of the styles back in Cyrodil, though I'm the first to admit my knowledge was lacking in the area. Two town guards stood at attention to the side of the pair of doors, stepping forward as I approached, blocking my entry.

"What brings you to Dragonsreach, stranger?"

"I come from Riverwood. A dragon has attacked Helgen and the people of Riverwood request the Jarl's aid."

The two guards shared a glance before one stepped aside, a whisper of 'The rumours are true?', the other opening one of the giant wooden doors. "Enter at once."

Nodding my thanks again, I entered the giant hall, surprised at how well lit the entryway was. There was a small crowd of people sitting to the side. If I were to guess, they were waiting for an audience with the Jarl. I climbed the short set of stairs into the main chamber, a large fire burning in the middle, providing plenty if not a little too much heat, considering it wasn't particularly cold outside. Ahead, a man sat on what was clearly a throne, a well-dressed man stood to his side, gesticulating widely as a female Dunmer did a clear double take as I approached before she strode my way, weapon in hand. I couldn't help but come to a stop, holding both hands up.

"Who are you?" she asked, ice on her tone, sword point not pointing my way at this second but ready to move in an instant.

"I've just come from Riverwood. The people request the Jarl's aid."

"For what reason?"

"Have you not heard of the news from Helgen? It's been destroyed by a dragon!"

"I thought that was the just the imaginings of foolish civilians," she muttered before finally sheathing her sword, "Very well. Jarl Balgruuf will want to hear this news at once. You may approach."

I cautiously approached the man sitting on the throne. He straightened as I came to a stop before the small set of stairs, unsure if I should take a knee of not. The man to his side looked me up and down. The dark elf whispered into the Jarl's ear, no doubt explaining why I was currently standing in front of him, the Jarl nodding a couple of times before turning his full attention in my direction.

"You were in Helgen? You saw the dragon?" the Jarl finally asked.

"That is correct, my Jarl."

"How did you manage to survive such an event?"

"Luck. The town was utterly destroyed as I escaped."

"And you've come from Riverwood?"

"The people request your aid. The town is undefended and the people are concerned."

The Jarl nodded. "Of course."

"My Jarl, I will send troops to Riverwood at once, if I have your agreement," Irileth stated, "It's in the most immediate danger, particularly if that dragon is lurking in the nearby mountains."

Now the other man finally spoke up. "The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation! He'll assume we are preparing to take Ulfric's side." 'Interesting! Whiterun must be truly neutral in this conflict.'

"No, Proventus, Irileth is right. Riverwood must be defended. If Jarl Siddgeir has issue with me protecting my people, then he can write a letter or personally travel here to talk about it. Irileth, send a detachment of troops to Riverwood at once. Have them report back if they see any sightings of a dragon or dragons."

The dark elf bowed slightly. "At once, my Jarl."

Irileth strode past me, a slightly nod of recognition my way before she disappeared, turning my attention back to the Jarl. "You have my thanks… I don't believe I know your name?"

"My name is Ragnar of Chorrol."

"You have thanks for bringing this news, Ragnar. Proventus, please give Ragnar here a purse of coin once we are finished here. He deserves a reward for helping protect Whiterun and its people."

"I will go at once, my Jarl."

"What brings you to Skyrim, Ragnar?"

I shrugged. "Skyrim is my home. I may have been born in the Imperial province, but my father and forefathers were all proud Nord men. Once my mother passed, I felt I needed to return here."

"You come at a bad time. Skyrim is beset by problems. And now with dragons? One wonders what will happen next." He then looked at me with a keen eye. "May I ask what you were doing in Helgen?"

I figured I had to be honest. "I was arrested not long after crossing the border into Skyrim as I was caught up in an… incident involving Ulfric Stormcloak."

The Jarl clearly scoffed. "Should have known Jarl Ulfric would be involved in all this. But are you are a Stormcloak?"

I shook my head but stayed quiet. 'I'm not… yet.' There was clearly more to the war than I knew about. All I had wanted to do was join the Stormcloaks. I still wanted to do that but figured it wise not to publicly stated my possible allegiance. I had learned nothing that would change my mind. But this Jarl appeared to be a good man and I figured he had his own reasons for neutrality. 'He's worried about his people. An admirable concern and I know little of the problems here.'

Proventus returned with a small coin purse. I looked at the Jarl, who nodded, before I opened it. 'Coin. Lots of it.' "Thank you, my Jarl. This is… thank you."

"Will you be remaining in Whiterun, Ragnar?"

"I am looking for work. I've heard the Companions are recruiting and I worked with the Fighter's Guild in Chorrol so may approach them later."

"You wish to be a Companion? That is a noble path. Honour and glory in battle. Plus, you will also make plenty of coin at the same time."

"Do you need me for anything else, my Jarl?"

"Not at the moment, Ragnar. But if I may make a request?" I nodded. "Stay in Whiterun for the time being. You have survived Helgen and the dragons and were positive in your attitude, coming here to warn us. I need people I can rely on and you've already proven yourself. And I may have more work for you later, if you accept."

"Of course."

"Very well. If you need somewhere to stay until you are accepted into the Companions, see Hulda at the Bannered Mare. Good food. Strong mead. And a warm bed."

I bowed slightly. "Thank you."

"Good luck to you, Ragnar of Chorrol."

It was dusk by the time I wandered back through the doors of Dragonsreach, fires illuminating Whiterun in a golden glow. Above, the skies twinkled with starlight, the enormous moon, Masser, glowed, not as brightly as the sun, but was always a comfort when looking into the night sky. The sun set and the moon rose, bringing peace of mind to each and all of us.

The Bannered Mare was full of locals as I made my entrance. I saw none of the Companions I had met earlier in the day, guessing they may have their own mead hall in Jorrvaskr. I noticed a few glances my way, guessing the locals were wondering who this stranger was who had just entered, as I made my way to the nearest stool. I ordered a meal – nothing fancy, meat, potatoes and vegetables, tasty nonetheless – a tankard of mead and a warm bed for the evening. I made polite conversation with those around me, while the bard serenaded us with old Nordic songs throughout the evening. After the craziness of the past day and more, it was nice to simply sit down and relax.

As I lay down my head that evening, I simply had no idea how my life was going to change. For the better or worse would only come with time.