Disclaimer: this fanfiction is based on a game produced by Bethesda Studios called Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.
Therefore, I do not own anything in this story. It’s meant to be fun and a simple, free showcase of my writing style. All dialogue of characters other than Aia is straight from the game. I’ll make note if I ever add dialogue to flesh out a scene.
Setting, characters, and plot will be determined by my playthrough on my Nintendo Switch. The screenshots and clips will be from my game system. My playthrough for this fanfiction is a role-playing challenge run of an Imperial named Aia. I am pausing the game to write what happens as it does. If Aia dies in the game, she will be thrust back in time to my last save to try again in the story, as well (Re: Zero). I am not sponsored.
For my character stats, rules, and lore: see the bottom of the post.
Author’s Note: These fanfiction chapters are written while playing, revised once, and posted every Wednesday without a beta reader. It is not my main writing. If you see a typo, let me know! I’m writing this fanfiction until November when I start my novel for NaNoWriMo. Keeping the fingers warm writing at least 1000 words a day!
Chapter 1: Helgen’s Wake
Chapter 2: Escape Helgen!
Chapter 3: Skyrim is Treacherous and Chatty
Chapter 4: Prepare to Travel!
It’s 8 pm by the time Hadvar and I finish eating dinner and talking with his family. They’re kind. Allowing me to make myself at home with them after I faced death only half a day ago leaves me feeling numb. What should I do? Alvor, a burly blacksmith, has asked me to report the dragon to the Jarl of Whiterun. While it doesn’t sound far, I’m not ready to travel alone. Hadvar makes it clear that he’s planning to lay low in Riverwood, languidly drinking mead and ale.
I’m not sure how he can relax after what just happened. The blacksmith’s daughter shows me around the kitchen to share some of their ingredients with me. After learning about the state of the war and how it started, I wonder about Ulfric Stormcloak. Wasn’t there a better way than to just kill the High King of Skyrim and start a rebellion? I understand being angry at the Thalmor, but Hadvar is right. The Thalmor will kill us all if we don’t stand together. Dividing the Empire only weakens it. Doesn’t he know that?
I’m still hungry, so I roast some pheasant and rabbit to pack for the road, and then cook up some of my favorite: apple cabbage stew. I’m glad they had the ingredients on hand. I ate this many nights growing up. It goes down warm, filling my belly with just what it needed. They even gave me supplies that I put in one of their cabinets for now. I need a bag. Changing out of the Legion armor–except the boots–into a yellow belted tunic that Alvor’s wife gave me, I feel my heart calm. Hadvar is the only person who really knows that I’m a fugitive, but I don’t feel that I earned that armor.
Stepping out into the night, I sigh. The streets are empty, peaceful. I can’t believe I’m free.
The faint whiff of sewage twinges my nose hairs, so I decide to visit a tavern down the road called the Sleeping Giant Inn. I don’t drink alcohol of any kind, but I do need information.
There might even be someone there willing to travel with me to Whiterun. The innkeeper and barkeep are amusing, making me wonder what goes ‘bump’ in the night around these parts. Alvor gives me a nod as he listens to the blonde Nord from earlier sing about the war. It’s so pervasive, war. I wish it would end.
Ignoring the drunk staggering by the fire, I approach the bar. “You’re that visitor, been pokin’ around,” says the innkeeper.
I nod. “Heard any rumors lately?”
“Word is Ulfric Stormcloak escaped from the Imperials. War’s only going to get worse, now.”
The barkeep chimes in, “There have been whispers. A boy, up in Windhelm, trying to contact the Dark Brotherhood.” He also mentions the Shrine of Azura and that the local general store has been robbed. Shaking my head, I buy a couple of pieces of cooked beef for my travels, sell some ingredients I don’t need, and thank them for the information.
The tavern empties before I’m done, almost midnight, so I return to Alvor’s place and put the beef in with the rest of the food that Alvor gave me for the journey. As everyone lays down for the night and Hadvar continues drinking at the table, I realize that there aren’t enough beds. After surviving a dragon, I’m not sleeping on the floor. Knowing my supplies are safe with them for a short time, I return to the Sleeping Giant Inn to purchase a room. I need a solid night’s rest for my morning training before I check the general store for supplies, and ask about the robbery. If there are bandits around, I definitely can’t leave Riverwood alone.
I sleep until 5:30 am, waking refreshed for my morning training. I’ve functioned on 6 hours of sleep or less for a long time, and I’m anxious to really start my journey in Skyrim. After a few hours of training my body and magic, I head back to Alvor’s. He’s outside at the forge.
He lets me help with him with a few simple tasks in exchange for more supplies, and allows me to keep the equipment I make. Somehow, I think he meant the chores to just be an excuse to help me more. A generous man. He had me forge and sharpen an iron dagger that I use to skin the wolves down the road from yesterday.
I eat Crab Stew for breakfast with fresh meat from the mudcrab I had to protect myself from. I wish they would just mind their business and let me train in the water in peace.
When I enter the Riverwood Trader, the shopkeeper and someone who seems to be his sister are arguing over the theft. The shopkeeper assures me that the store is still open, and is all too happy to rant about his predicament. He seems to want my help, but I only offer my condolences. I can’t travel the roads alone, let alone fight a band of thieves to retrieve his golden claw.
“Do you sell spells?”
“I think I have a few old spellbooks laying about. If you want more, you’ll have to go to the College of Winterhold.” His stock is better than what I expected from a small town. I sell the Legion armor, not feeling that I earned it, a silver ring that Alvor gave me, any stamina potions I found in Helgen Keep, and a gem that I found among the supplies he gave me. I purchase a fishing map of Whiterun and browse the spells. Picking up a spell tome for Oakflesh, I consider it. To be a proper mage, I’ll need mage robes to regenerate magicka quickly. I decide to buy it.
After those two things, I have 61 gold left, enough to buy food and sleep when I need it, if nothing else. I talk to the shopkeeper’s sister before leaving, recognizing her name from that blonde bard Sven. This must be the woman that the men of the town are fighting over. She’s pretty enough, though her brow could be less stern. “You’re not from around here,” she says. “That makes two of us.” We laugh and chat a bit more before I leave.
I can’t believe it’s only been a day since I became a fugitive and survived a dragon. Finding a quiet spot by the mill, I read the Oakflesh tome and practice casting it a couple of times. It’s different than restoration magic, but I like it. I’m not hurting anyone.
I train for the rest of the day, contemplating if I’ll survive a trip to Whiterun. A herd of wolves could destroy me without a companion. An elf by the mill laments to me about his rivalry with Sven for Camilla when I finally ask what their deal is, and he gives me a nasty letter to deliver to her, saying it’s from Sven. What a mess, and I don’t have time for these immature fools. I march right back to Camilla and tell her the truth about this letter that I don’t want to keep.
I return to the Sleeping Giant Inn and find Sven playing his lute. He says, “Faendal thinks he can woo Camilla Valerius away from me…” and continues on for a few minutes about his songs for her, and his love for her.
“I don’t think Camilla will be spending any more time with Faendal,” I finally comfort the arrogant yet self-conscious bard.
“Now that’s what I like to hear. Good work. I think you deserve some gold from my tips at the inn.”
I’m grateful, but I realize that’s not really what I need. Looking him up and down, I take note of the weapon on his belt. Whiterun isn’t far…a bard should be enough. “Follow me. I need your help.”
“Lead the way.”
Chapter 5 coming Wed, June 25! NEW chapter every Wednesday!
Character: Aia
Current Level: 1
Current Perks: none
Age: Unknown, Young Adult
Race: Imperial
History: An orphan raised by the Great Chapel of Mara in Bravil of Cyrodil, Aia has always been fascinated with love and restoration magic. The priest there encouraged her to travel to Skyrim to help the Legion in the civil war there…
Level of 3 Primary Skills: Restoration (26), Block (22), Alteration (15)
Level of 2 Secondary Skills: Smithing (15), Enchanting (20)
New Spell: Oakflesh
Days Past: 1
Locations Discovered: 2
Dungeons Cleared: 0
Challenge Run Rules:
- No offense outside of shield bash and dragon shouts.
- 5 perk skill limit: 3 mage, 2 warrior
- Difficulty: Master. Anniversary Edition: Survival mode on, all DLC installed.
- Character Death results in resetting to the last time she has slept.
- Morally Good: does not commit crime, lie, or associate with Daedra
- Legion Loyalty: a loyal Imperial, she fundamentally opposes the Stormcloak rebellion.
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