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. You do not need to be a Skyrim fan to enjoy the story, but you will miss some jokes and references (especially about followers).
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 another edit or 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 5: Whiterun and its Jarl
The blonde Nord, Sven, doesn’t seem to have any armor or a proper weapon. After reinforcing my shield with a bit more iron, I forge leather scout armor for him, and pick up an iron mace laying on one of Alvor’s tables that he might be able to swing. We set off toward Whiterun, discussing the Bard’s College where he studied as we jog apace. It’s such a beautiful day in this harsh land.
We follow the river northeast, Sven picking a few mountain flowers for Camilla. He slays a single wolf, smashing its head in with the mace…I cringe and skin it, avoiding looking at its skull. He hums a tune as he waits, escorting me down the rest of the path.
“Wait,” I say. Imperial soldiers are walking ahead of us on the rocky path…I’m still a fugitive. “This way.” Sven follows me down the rocky terrain, where I find a corundum ore vein. I’ll need to come back with a pickaxe for it before I leave Whiterun.
When I investigate further, there’s a small farm. I approach, squint my eyes, and gasp. A giant! I’ve heard alchemists actually use their toes in their potions. We run closer, and it seems to be surrounded by three warriors. Their blades hack and slash. Arrows rain on the giant, and Sven doesn’t seem to be interested in helping. Shivering, I raise my shield, the bright sun failing to cleanse my fear.
Every time the giant raises its club to strike, I bash my shield into one of its legs. Its steps and stumbles rock the ground beneath us, but we remain standing. When the creature dies, a red-haired beauty with a bow jogs up to me.
“You handle yourself well. You would make a decent Shield-Sister.”
“What is a shield sister?”
“An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions? An order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor, and we show up to solve problems if the coin is good enough.”
“Sounds like a waste of time.”
“Well nobody asked you,” she seethes. Before I can tell her she misunderstood me, she continues, “If you think you’re better than we are, go talk to Kodlak Whitemane. See what a warrior of true mettle is like.” While my jaw drops, she turns her nose up and walks away. If she had held her temper, I could have clarified that I meant it was a waste of time for me, since I’m no warrior and plan to join the Legion. The other warriors follow her lead toward the city, and Sven shows up at my side, dazed in his imagination, sniffing his mountain flowers.
Ignoring him, I talk to the man who owns this farm. Severio Pelagia still has fear chattering his teeth, so I ask if he needs any help. I harvest some crops for a small of chunk of gold, and check on his high elf assistant. They seem to be recovering, and the warrior group is out of sight, so I move on from the farm, finding a horse and carriage. “Need a ride?”
“What do you know about Whiterun?”
“Well, I know the Companions make their home here. Their mead hall, Jorrvaskr, is the oldest building in the city. Oh, and there’s a nasty feud between two families called the Gray-Manes and Battle-borns. You’ll want to be careful there. The rest you can find out by asking the townsfolk. I’d start with the barkeep at the Bannered Mare, or the castle steward.”
“Thanks,” I say with a slight bow. I turn to Sven, “It’s time for us to part ways.”
“I’ll head back home if you need me”
I let him keep the armor and mace to protect himself on the way home. He’s not the best person to protect me on the road. I doubt he wants to join the Legion with me, and he kept staring off into space with a goofy grin. Camilla is waiting for him, anyway. I don’t see Imperial soldiers anywhere, but I feel myself growing more paranoid as a fugitive. It’s not like many of the soldiers from Helgen escaped. I need to stop thinking about it, and focus.
All of my gear was stolen, and Helgen Keep didn’t have many supplies for a long journey. I’ll need to gather some before I take the carriage to Solitude. I barter briefly with a traveling merchant, who doesn’t have any spells, and then head to the city gates.
“Halt! City’s closed with the dragons about. Official business only.”
“Riverwood calls for the Jarl’s aid.”
“Riverwood’s in danger, too? You’d better go in.” I hesitate and he says, “You’ll find the Jarl in Dragonsreach, at the top of the hill.” I nod, thank him, and push through the heavy gates. Two nords are having a disagreement by the blacksmith, so I keep moving. They seem to be talking about weapons for the Legion. Alvor said Jarl Balgruuf hasn’t sided with anyone in the war, but it seems the citizens aren’t neutral.
A passing guard says, “They say Helgen got hit by a dragon. One of those horrors comes here, we’ll be ready.” It’s later in the day around 6 pm, so I pop into the general store.
“Welcome to Belethor’s General Goods. Welcome, indeed.” Somehow, he doesn’t have any torches, camping supplies, or spell books. I move on without buying anything. I pass the same Nord man who was arguing by the gates, harassing a shopkeeper. It would be best to avoid him, I suppose. Up the stairs, there’s a sad tree without any leaves. Despite that, it has a distinct presence and is the center-piece of the courtyard. I don’t have time to ask about it, even though every person I pass has something to say, and I continue up the last set of stairs to the keep.
A dark elf with red war paint approaches with her weapon drawn and voice deep. “What’s the meaing of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors.”
“Alvor sent me. Riverwood is in danger,” I stammer.
“As hoursecarl, my job is to deal with all dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people. So you have my attention. Now, explain yourself.”
“A dragon has destroyed Helgen.”
“You know about Helgen?” Her eyes dart up and down my frame, still clad in a cheap tunic. “The Jarl will want to speak to you personally.” She sheathes her weapon and starts to walk away. “Approach.”
With a huge dragon skull above the throne and long tables around a large bonfire, nervous would be an understatement. I should step carefully here.
Jarl Balgruuf leans back in his chair and waits for me to approach, regal and commanding. “So. You were at Helgen?” He doubts me. He must. “You saw this dragon with your own eyes?”
Realizing I’m still in a tunic and look like a villager, I say, “The Imperials were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak. Then the dragon attacked.”
Jarl Balgruuf scoffs, “I should have guessed Ulfric would be mixed up in this.” With the power of a man in charge, he turns to the people around him and ignores me. That’s fine. I’m sweating through my clothes. Waiting for them to argue over their course of action, I steady my breath.
“Well done,” the Jarl finally says to me. “You sought me out, on your own initiative.” I didn’t really. Alvor and Sven both asked me to. “You’ve done Whiterun a service, and I won’t forget it. Here,” he hands me steel armor as if one of my dainty frame could wear it. “Take this as a small token of my esteem. 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.”
I follow him to the study of a man in mage robes, finally. Farengar must have spell books. The Jarl hands me over to the mage, who says, “So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons.” He holds his chin. “Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me,” he ponders. “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.”
I ask, ”What does this have to do with dragons?”
“Ah, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker – perhaps even a scholar? You see, when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities.” He starts to pace and speak faster. “One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible. But I began to search for information about dragons – where had they gone all those years ago? And where were they coming from?” He notices his passion, and takes a breath. “I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow – a ‘Dragonstone,’ said to contain a map of dragon burial sites.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
“Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find this tablet – no doubt interred in the main chamber – and bring it to me. Simplicity itself,” he says…I ask about the Barrow, remembering it as the place that Hadvar feared as a child. Jarl Balgruuf leaves us to it, and I continue to ask Farengar questions about magic until about 9 pm. I pick up a Lesser Ward spell tome, and stop by the Inn that I saw earlier to rent a room.
The innkeeper mentions I can earn some gold by chopping wood, but I don’t have an axe. I need an axe and pick axe. She shows me to my room and I head back outside to find a place for my nightly training. I remember seeing water by the keep, and return there to practice holding my breath in the water. When the night starts to turn cold, I return to the inn for dinner and then pass out.
You leveled up! Choose an attribute to advance: Magicka. Perks to increase: 1. Novice Restoration.
Chapter 6 coming Wed, July 2! NEW chapter every Wednesday until November!
Character: Aia
Current Level: 2
Current Perks: Novice Restoration
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 (27), Block (23), Alteration (15)
Level of 2 Secondary Skills: Smithing (15), Enchanting (20)
Days Past: 2
Dungeons Discovered: 6
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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