InsaneJournal

PREVIOUSLY: Andrel is mistakenly imprisoned by Imperial forces in an ambush for Ulfric Stormcloak. Taken to Helgen, he is slated for execution among Ulfric's men. Before he can meet his death by the blade of an axeman, a dragon swoops down and causes mass confusion. He escaped Helgen with his life, and only by the help of an Imperial officer that never wanted him on that wagon, to begin with.

BEFORE THE STORM

The trouble seemed to have cleared for now.

Hadvar pulled Andrel down behind a boulder, his eyes directed skyward. The same dragon that had just decimated Helgen flew directly overhead, and Andrel could feel his heart sink in his chest in anticipation. A few moments, and the beast had flown away.

"Looks like he's gone for good, this time. Let's not stick around to see if he comes back," Hadvar commented. "Closest town is Riverwood. My uncle is the blacksmith there. He can help you. For now it's best we split up, but I wish you luck. I know things weren't great back there, but the Legion could really use someone like you."

It was true. He'd nearly lost his life back there if it weren't for the dragon, and even then he didn't think his chances of survival were so great for a moment. His body was sore and cut in multiple places. "You go on. Thank you for helping me escape."

A silent nod given, and the now-free man watched as his comrade-in-arms started making his way back to civilization. Scanning his hands over any open wounds he had, he used a simple healing spell to close them, though they all left a scar behind.

Downhill he began to travel. A vague dirt path led him finally to a more-defined cobblestone road. His sword was sheathed for now, and he kept an eye on the plants he passed. Flowers, cotton, and thistle dotted the landscape around him, and pine trees towered over him everywhere he looked. It wasn't so different from Bruma, here. As he followed the pathway, he could hear the White River roaring with life in the distance. Later on when things had calmed down for him and he recovered his pack, he would return and gather alchemy ingredients.

As he got closer to the river, he made his way down another dirt path to a small clearing. A hunter's camp was nearby and he could see a Redguard man sitting on a cut log beside the water, a fishing pole laid next to him. Scooping some of the water out, he cleansed his face and hands of the ash, blood, and soot that was clinging to his skin. The water muddled as the filth washed away and for the first time in a few days, he'd seen his reflection in the water. He was covered in grime, and a simple splash in the river wouldn't be enough to rinse it all away.

Settling on his appearance for now, he stood again and made his way back up to the pathway. Up above the skies were blue, but dotted with clouds; it was bound to rain, soon. Between the trees, he could see massive stone structures. He'd seen them on the way down, as well, and he was drawn to them. The reason why -- he couldn't put his finger on, but the very mountains seemed to whisper to him, like a siren's singing.

As he continued down the path, he could see fish jumping out of the rapids of the river. A glance up, and he noticed a small pack of wolves laying dead in the pathway. He reckoned they must have attacked Hadvar on his way in. Three wolves would grant him a decent amount of leather to make some new armor, but would also be time-consuming. You couldn't even eat them without risking some sort of disease. Pulling the bodies up off the road, he left them for nature to take care of the rest.

A little further up the road, and he saw the great wooden gate that marked the entrance of Riverwood from his end. As he entered, he didn't see Hadvar or Alvor outside, but could smell the smithing forge. Every single building in this small village was made of wood. The people here were sitting ducks if a dragon happened upon them, and there were only a small handful of guards.

"Dragon! I saw a dragon!" an elderly woman spoke as he passed.

"What is it now, mother?"

"It was big as a mountain, and black as night! It flew right over the Barrow!"

He didn't stay to listen to the rest of their conversation, but he knew she must have been referring to the stone structures he'd seen on his way down. He made his way to the door of the house attached to the smithing forge and knocked on the door. He was told to come in and opened the door, stepping in to see Hadvar sitting there with his uncle.

"Sigrid! We have company!" Alvor called as Andrel closed the door. Hadvar pulled a chair for him and motioned for him to sit down. A few moments later, a woman came upstairs and moved to sit down next to her husband. Alvor turned to Hadvar. "Now, then, boy. What's the big mystery? What were you doing, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

"I don't know where to start," Hadvar replied, leaning forward. "I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked... by a dragon."

"That's... ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you, boy?"

Sigrid nudged Alvor with her elbow, her voice stern but gentle. "Husband. Let him tell his story."

Hadvar continued to explain what happened, and looked over at Andrel as he explained how he might not have made it out alive if it hadn't been for his help. "I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what happened. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

"Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help in any way I can." Alvor insisted, resting his hand on Andrel's shoulder. "Please, lad. There's a bit of gold laying around. We make plenty to stay comfortable, here. There's some over on that table, and another pouch in the chest by my bed behind you. Take it, it's yours. I'm glad to help. But - I need your help. We need your help. The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless. We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for us, I'll be in your debt."

Pulling out a few pieces of handcrafted jewelry, he also offered those to Andrel. "Take these, too. They'll fetch you a little more so you can properly arm yourself. That sword you've got there looks to be rather old."

He allowed himself a chuckle. "I reckon it is, but it did good enough to get me out of there. Thank you for the hospitality, my friend. I did manage to get some gold out of Helgen and I'll use that to rent a room. It's getting late and I want to get to the Jarl immediately. I'll rest when I'm in Whiterun. Divines protect you all."

"Safe travels, my boy. The Bannered Mare in Whiterun will have rooms. We cannot thank you enough. Please send the Jarl my regards."

A curt nod of his head, and he stepped outside. As he suspected, it started to rain, but it was a welcome change of weather. He wouldn't be cold, and it would help to wash away some of the filth. Heading down the road to the other end of the small village, he crossed the bridge. Again, he could see the Barrow and hear those mysterious whispers in his thoughts. He thought he might be going crazy, but he'd been through a lot. All he needed was to get to Whiterun, tell the Jarl what happened, and get some rest.

Whiterun was a decent distance from Riverwood, but he could see the city's stone wall in the distance. He didn't exactly understand how a simple wall was supposed to stop a dragon from wreaking havoc, considering they could fly. A line of Imperial soldiers were traveling down the path just ahead of him. They hadn't seen him yet, so instead he elected to go straight down the hill, rather than follow the pathway. Hadvar had warned him to steer clear of Imperial soldiers until he could talk to General Tullius on his behalf.

As he reached the bottom, he rejoined with the pathway just outside Honningbrew Meadery. The city wasn't too far away, and he began running down the road until he reached the stables. A single black horse was crunching at a bail of hay, sheltering herself from the rain. Pushing his dampened hair out of his face, he continued to run towards the gate until he was stopped by a guard keeping watch at the door.

"Halt. City's closed with the dragons about. Official business only."

Catching his breath, Andrel spoke up. "Riverwood calls for the Jarl's aid. They only have a few guards there, and it's not enough to fend off a dragon."

"Riverwood's in danger, too?" he heard the guard say through his helmet. "The Jarl will want to speak with you directly. Go through the gates and keep going straight up the path. Dragonsreach is up top and that's where you'll find him."

"Thank you," he responded, stepping through the heavy gate that barred him outside. Just inside was a street full of buildings made from both brick and wood. Whiterun seemed to be a little more durable than Riverwood, and he continued up the pathway. It was getting late and most people had went inside. Continuing up the pathway, he saw the Bannered Mare. His head turned to the left, eyes wandering up the staircase to the next level of the city. As he reached the top stair, he was greeted with a circular walkway surrounding a large tree that looked to be dead. In the distance was a great stone eagle with spread wings, the belly glowing from a fire below.

Finally, he saw his true destination - the great hall that rested over the rest of the city. Just before the staircase leading up was a clearing with a massive statue of Talos. He would visit it tomorrow, but Riverwood was his priority. Quick steps carried him up the stairs and finally he entered the giant doors of Dragonsreach. When he got inside, voices echoed to the end of the hall as he approached the throne.

"I only council caution. We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these," a man advised. He sounded like an Imperial.

"What would you have me do, then? Nothing?"

"My lord, please. This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more action before we act. I just..."

"Who's this, then?" the Jarl asked, finally noticing him. A Dunmeri woman drew her blade as she approached him. She looked ready to gut him if he even so much as breathed wrong.

"Please, Riverwood is in danger," he defended. "I have news from Helgen, about the dragon attack."

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come on then, the Jarl will want to speak to you personally," she concluded, sheathing her weapon again before allowing him to approach the throne. Above the Jarl's head was a dragon's skull. Glancing back down, his eyes met with those of Jarl Balgruuf.

"Now, lad. Tell me, what's this all about?"

"To be honest, I came to Skyrim from Cyrodiil. I was at Darkwater Crossing when I ran into an Imperial ambush for Ulfric Stormcloak."

The Jarl sighed. "I should have guessed Ulfric was mixed in this, somehow. What happened?"

"The Imperials took me prisoner with Ulfric's men. I was taken with him and his other soldiers to Helgen. I was in his wagon. When we got to Helgen, my name was not on their list, but I was second in line to be executed, and that's when the dragon came. The axeman was just about to cut off my head. It crashed down on the tower above us, and before we knew it, Helgen was in complete chaos. Another Imperial soldier helped me get out of there alive and bid me to come to you."

"By the Divines, boy..." the Jarl replied. "Irileth was right, Proventus. What do you say, now? Should we continue to trust the strength of our walls against a dragon?"

Irileth spoke up before the Jarl's steward could. "My lord, we should send some troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountains..."

"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!" the Jarl shouted. "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."

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties..." Proventus spoke.

"That would be best," replied the Jarl. Andrel watched as Irileth and Proventus left the Jarl, who then turned to him. "Well done. You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem."

The Jarl's maid presented him with a fresh set of clothes and a new cuirass to replace the weathered one he was wearing. "Thank you, my Jarl."

"Of course, lad. 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's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons."