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My name is Chamelion. I am in Whiterun.

The large doors opened at my touch, and I pushed on them wide enough for me to slide through, turning to push the door back closed, before I looked around at my surroundings.

Directly in front of me was a small bridge over a stream. Beyond that, I saw a few buildings, spread apart by the stone road I was standing on. To my immediate right, the first building I saw was clearly a blacksmith's, as I could see a forge, working stations, and a smelter, with the stream passing them. To my left, the first house I could see was resting on a small hill, another sign at the foot of this hill, but there was no light for me to read the sign from my position. There were about two other houses beyond them, the road winding between them all the way to another building in the far distance.

There were also a man and a woman standing by the blacksmith's house, speaking to each other. I approached them with curiosity.

"We'll pay whatever it takes, but we must have more swords for the Imperial soldiers," The man was saying to the woman. I looked over at the woman - the Blacksmith, I figure - as she crossed her arms sternly. She was wearing a large apron, intended for smithing purposes, and indeed, I noted, she was wearing a lot of soot and oils on her clothing.

"I just can't fill an order that size on my own," she was countering. "Why don't you swallow that stubborn pride of yours and ask Eorlund Gray-Mane for help?"

The Man scoffed. "I'd rather bend my knee to Ulfric Stormcloak." He spat at the ground. "Besides, Gray-Mane would never make steel for the Legion."

I furrowed my brow at this. There were two Blacksmiths in town, but it seems that one of them preferred to make weapons for the Stormcloaks. And this man, whoever he is, clearly has some issue with the Gray-Manes because of it.

The woman sighed, relenting. "Have it your way. I'll take the job, but don't expect a miracle." The two of them parted, the man going down the road, the woman going into the Blacksmith's.

I took a closer look at the Blacksmith's sign, then turned towards the small house on the hill. The man was walking down a side-alley I didn't see before, leading to a set of stairs through an archway in the wall. I paid it no mind and walked over to the sign in front of the house. 'Drunken Huntsman' it read, with one of those containers of mead depicted squarely on the center. Must be a tavern. Yet, I noted, there wasn't any usual merry making within. I shrugged and resumed down the path.

The next house on my right had no sign and looked rather small to be a shop of some sort. I passed by it, proceeding down the path, looking around some more. Another building appeared on my right, with a porch that I could barely see, facing further down the path. This building, along with the one at the far end that I had seen, and another one nestled between them as I approached, were all circling a well in the center. Also flanking the well were three stalls, all of them empty (not surprising, considering it was still at night) and another pathway branching off from the square, leading into the wall again.

A man, dressed in ragged clothes, passed me as I glanced around. I paid him no mind, then turned to the two houses standing next to each other, looking at the signs hanging from each of the porches. The closest one - by the road I walked up from - had a picture of a set of scales on it, indicating it was a store of some kind, but there was no name to it. I approached the door, finding it to be locked (of course) but didn't pick the lock. I wasn't going to be breaking into someone's store, after all.

The second building's sign was more recognizable, at least to me. It was an apothecarist's mortar and pestle design. I made note of this to stop by the shop and see if I could get something for this infection I got from the Skeevers. I looked over at the third building.

The third building had a set of stairs leading up to it, with the sign next to it depicting a man on a rearing horse. Above it, the sign read 'Bannered Mare'. I could hear sounds coming from inside of it and could also smell food cooking from inside. If this was the tavern, then what's the Drunken Huntsman? I shrugged it off and turned towards the stairs, noting that there was a sluice ferrying water on both sides of the staircase. There were also a few people going back and forth; a couple guards, not surprising, but then I noticed the three Companions heading up the stairs, and I joined in the line.

At the top of the stairs, through the opening in the wall, I could see a massive tree ahead of me, branches extending into the sky. I was surprised I didn't see this from the outside, but then I noticed that the tree itself was barren of leaves. This was concerning, especially since I saw many trees outside that were full of their leaves, yet this one didn't have any. It also appeared to be a centerpiece of this area, as there was an enclosure of trellises circling the tree. Inside the enclosure I could see some benches around the tree, as well as the sluice of water circling the enclosure, making the tree look like it was on a miniature island.

To my left, across the stream, I saw a few more buildings, the closest one resembling more a temple than a house, with direct access to the large tree. To my right, there was another small house sitting by itself, a staircase next to it leading up to what looked like an overturned Nord vessel fashioned into a house of some sort. The Companions that I had met from outside were making their way to this vessel, confirming that this must be their meeting place. Just behind one side of the house was a large statue of an eagle, the underside of it lit up by flames I could not see, signifying its importance. Though I did not know what that importance was.

To the left of the stairs was a large statue with a small, almost unnoticeable shrine. The statue itself depicted a man, dressed in regal war armor, standing on top of a writhing serpent, poised to strike the serpent in the throat. The shrine itself was of small stature, resembling, in my best description of it, the head of an axe, marked with odd markings that I did not understand. Perhaps the shrine is to acknowledge whatever the strange statue was.

Between the statue and the temple, completing the circle around the tree, was a series of stairs, making their way up towards the large house I had seen from outside, the water cascading down from the flank of the stairway into the sluice and to the rest of the city. The house looked far more imposing than I thought when I saw it at a distance. Whoever Balgruuf was, he certainly held a commanding presence over the city.

I decided to head down the road between the buildings, making mental notes of anything of importance. Aside from the temple, there was only one other building that caught my interest, and this was next to the temple. Another small set of stairs led up to it, but as I climbed them, I noticed that the stairs immediately dipped back down and below the surface of the ground, leading into the entrance being below the ground floor of this building.

I looked back up at the night sky, musing that it was too late to disturb anyone, but I had to make one last stop. I went back to the tree, then turned towards the last set of staircases, slowly climbing them to the top of the hill.

The stairs themselves leveled out a tone point to cross a large reservoir of water, which was feeding the sluice channels below. They then continued alongside a rocky wall, climbing ever so slowly up towards the top, where the building - Balgruuf's home, I assumed - stood by itself, nestled on top of a lake that was the source of the water to the city, an impressive bridge spanning the lake to the front doors. I glanced up at the bridge, the archways on either side framing it to signify the importance of the house itself.

This was Dragonsreach.

I looked over the bridge, past the ruined walls, and looked out over at the expansive land that Whiterun was the center of. Even under the moonlight, the scene was beautiful, serene... haunting. I shuddered, making a mental note to return to Dragonsreach in the daytime, and descended the stairs, heading to the Bannered Mare. I assumed that's the only building I could enter.

---

"Come on in," I heard immediately as I entered. There was a woman standing behind a counter on my right, addressing me. "Just stoked the fire. Take a seat and get the cold out."

Indeed, the Inn looked rather inviting. The Inn itself was expansive, the main floor opening into the second floor, with a balcony on one side. In the middle of the floor was a large open fire, where two men (one I noticed was the disheveled man I met earlier) seated and talking to each other. To the left, I saw an open doorway, and through that I could see a cooking pot and some shelves of food. I assumed this was the kitchen. Ahead of me, I could make out a staircase leading up to the second floor where the balcony was. There was another door directly across from me, on the other side of the fire, and I presumed those were the beds.

Tables and chairs were scattered on the corners of the Inn, and the counter where the woman stood behind had a few bar stools of their own. As I approached the woman, another - one of the darker-skinned Redguard, which I noted was the only one I had met so far in Whiterun - walked up to the counter. The woman behind the counter spoke to her.

"Saadia, dear?" She sounded kind, and I could tell the look in her eyes was that of both experience and weariness.

"Yes, mum?" Saadia responded, taking me aback for a moment. I decided to dismiss it as just a simple greeting.

"I'll be needing you to mop the place down extra tonight. Lots of spills!" I couldn't help but chuckle at that, looking over at the two men. A third - another bard - joined them and was playing on an instrument as he sang. I turned back to the two women, the Redguard obviously a servant for the Inn.

"Oh, yes, Miss Hulda," Saadia responded, bowing politely to the other. This made me pleased. Not the bowing, I mean, but the fact that both the servant and her master were highly respectful towards each other. There were too many times in the Black Marsh where I experienced both humans (those brave enough to settle in the lands, anyway) and Argonians treating their servants harshly. This was a nice change of pace.

Saadia departed, and I turned to Hula. "Good evening. I am not here for a room or anything, I'd just like to relax here for a few hours. Do you have any rumors about Whiterun?"

Hulda thought for a moment. "I assume you saw the Gildergreen? Big tree, all burnt up, in the middle of the Wind District." She must be talking about the large tree in the residential area. The fact that it was 'burnt' explains why it looked so dead. "It's part of the Temple of Kynareth. People want Danica to do something about it, but I don't know what they expect."

I nodded. The Temple of Kynareth must be the building closest to the tree. I'll have to stop there and speak to this 'Danica' about it. "Anything else?"

She thought for a moment. "Have you seen that Shrine of Azura? They say the Dark Elves built it after they fled from Morrowind. Sight to see."

I shook my head on that one. There were only two shrines that I had seen. The Guardian Stones (which Hadvar himself mentioned), and the shrine in front of the statue. However, that could not be the Shrine of Azura, since Hulda mentioned Dark Elves, which I never saw any of in Whiterun. "I'll have to look for that myself."

"People also say that there's someone in Riften that can... change your face," Hulda continued. I tilted my head. "Make you look completely different. Can you believe that?" This one, I couldn't. I never heard of anyone able to change someone's face. Perhaps they cast an illusion spell to make someone think they look different, but... I shook my head after a moment.

"Any other good rumors?"

"The Companions?" Hulda thought for a moment. "In Jorrvaskr? They're recruiting new members, from what I hear." This, I thought as much. That woman with the facepaint hinted towards the same thing. I gave Hulda a polite smile, and moved towards one of the seats, taking out one of the books I had taken on my travels and began to read.

---

"Care for a drink?"

I snapped my head up, having been so engrossed in my reading that I didn't realize time had passed. The Redguard, Saadia, was looking at me with a smile. "Oh! Oh, um, no, thank you, I'm fine."

She smiled and bowed politely, before leaving. I got up from my seat, looking around. The Inn seemed to be a bit quieter, so I gave a polite nod to Hulda and left the Inn.

It was early morning. However, it was still too early for shops to open. Perhaps I can finally seek an audience with the Jarl. I made my way back up to the Dragonsreach.

Along the way, I paused at the Gildergreen tree. In the light, I could see, now, what Hulda was speaking of. The tree was charred, streaks of black all over the tree, as if it was struck by lightning. The tree must be considered sacred to the residents if they demanded someone to do something about it.

"'I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine.'" I turned towards the voice. A man, in robes, was standing in front of the statue and the shrine, shouting with a lot of emotion in his voice, as if preaching to everyone that was passing by. "'I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.'" I approached the man.

"Aye, love, love!" He continued, not noticing me. "Even as man, great Talos cherished us. For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim! The future of Tamriel!"

I tensed. He was openly praising Talos in the city. I remembered Alvor's comments about the worship of Talos considered illegal, but when I looked around, none of the patrolling guards even bothered to stop him. Perhaps, in Whiterun, they did not have this rule, or were ignoring it. Perhaps Whiterun was following its own laws?

I left the man, who was still preaching about Talos, and climbed the stairs to the Dragonsreach. Once at the large doors, I took a large breath, and pushed open the doors, a concerned fear welling up within me.

---

Dragonsreach was an immense hall. That was the first thing I noticed. Grand pillars stood on either side of me, stretching all the way up to the arches in the tall ceiling, and for a brief second I thought it resembled the ribcage of a massive beast. A set of stairs were in front of me, leading up to the upper landing. I could hear voices beyond, and I paid it no mind as I ascended the stairs.

At the top of the landing, the hall continued stretching out, another massive cooking fire sitting in the middle of the room, and to my left and right were long tables, with chairs seated on one side of the tables, serving as a banquet hall of sorts. Whiterun banners hung from the columns behind the tables, And I could see that, even in the early mornings, there was food prepared on the tables.

I looked ahead of me. From the other side of the fire, I saw a throne. On that throne was a man, a Nord, sitting on it. To his right was another man, dressed in green robes, and the two of them were speaking to each other. To my right, a Dunmer, in armor, drew her sword and began to approach me. I stopped in my place, watching her approach, trying my best to calm myself down.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" She spoke in a low tone, staring at me intently. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

I knew he was not expecting me, at least, so her demands for my supposed intrusion was justified. "I have news from Helgen," I spoke, doing my best to keep my voice level. "About the dragon attack."

Her posture lessened a bit, and he put her sword away. "Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come on, then, the Jarl will want to speak to you personally."

She turned, and I followed her as we walked up to the Jarl. For someone of a high importance, I was a bit surprised to see him slouching a little, as if he had been enjoying one too many mugs of mead. His casual posture confused me, as I was expecting someone of much... more importance sitting there.

"So," he spoke, directly looking at me. "You were at Helgen? You saw the dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes," I calmly responded. "I had a great view while the Imperials were trying to cut off my head." Perhaps a bit too much information, but I had to at least have a reason why I was in Helgen in the first place.

The Jarl took note. "Really? You're certainly... forthright about your criminal past."

Despite my attempts to be as civil as possible, I felt my teeth grit at the assumption. "Jarl Balgruuf, I assure you that-"

"It's none of my concern who the Imperials want to execute," he interrupted me. I fell silent, albeit annoyed. "especially now. What I want to know is what exactly happened at Helgen."

I thought about the execution stage, and the dragon attack that interrupted it. "The Imperials had plans to execute Ulfric Stormcloak. Then the dragon attacked."

"I should have guessed Ulfric would be mixed up in this," The Jarl responded, with a displeased sound in his voice. He turned to the man standing next to him. "What to do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My lord," the Dunmer spoke up. She wasn't standing next to me, but she was still close to me as she spoke with authority. "We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains..."

"Agreed," I added quickly. "I was sent by Riverwood to ask for Soldier support in case the dragon attacked them."

The Proventus objected to this proposal. "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 cut him off with a wave of his hand. He had a stern look to the Proventus. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned to the Dunmer. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

The Dunmer saluted immediately, slapping a hand to her chest. "Yes, my Jarl."

"If you'll excuse me," The Proventus spoke, "I'll return to my duties." Both he and Irileth parted, leaving me with the Jarl. The Jarl turned to me.

"You sought me out," he began, "on your own initiative." Technically, Alvor sent me, but I did not argue. "You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it." He suddenly sat up, leaning forward to look at me. "There is another thing you could do for me. Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps."

I straightened, wondering what he could want of a Thief like me.

"Come," he suddenly stood up. "Let us go find Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and... rumors of dragons." He walked past me, and after a second, I turned and followed him, going behind one of the banquet tables to a door hidden behind the columns.

This new room was significantly smaller than the Great Hall, and what little space it had provided was already occupied by several large furniture pieces. A large counter in the middle of the room, a map of Tamriel on display to my right, and on the other side of the room, between two doors, was another Apothecary table as well as an Enchantment table. A wizard, dressed in blue robes, was focused on the enchantment table, and straightened up at the Jarl's voice.

"Farengar, I think I've found someone who can help you with your dragon project. Go ahead and fill him in with all the details."

Farengar, the wizard, turned and looked towards me. "So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me?" He spoke. While his tone didn't imply such, I took some mild offense at the implication. However, I had no idea what he wanted, so I said nothing as he continued. "Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons."

He moved towards the map, looking at it as he spoke. "Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me." He looked at me. "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 folded my arms. "I've already been to some ruins before to fetch something for someone else, so this is nothing new for me. But I do want to know, what does this... tablet have to do with dragons?"

The wizard cracked a smile. "Ah, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker - perhaps even a scholar?" This, I chuckled at. I'm glad he acknowledged me as being something other than a simple "go-to" man (*The word 'man' has a line through it.*) Lizard.

"You see," Farengar continued, "when the stories of dragons began to circulate, many dismissed them as mere fantasies, rumors. Impossibilities."

"Well, that's one convincing fantasy I saw," I commented.

He nodded. "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 had a point. The only reason why rumors of things that have yet to be proven to be seen exist, is because there were signs of such things existing. Either that or the crazed imaginations of a madman. "So what do you need me to do?"

"I, uh, 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."

I winced. I knew what he was talking about. That tablet that I had seen, guarded by the Draugr. That HAD to be it. "And Bleak Falls Barrow was where I went to retrieve another item."

"Well, go back to Bleak Falls Barrow," Farengar spoke with confidence, "find this tablet - no doubt interred in the main chamber - and bring it to me. Simplicity itself."

I held my tongue. Simplicity, yeah right. I had to fight my way through traps, thieves, and undead to come up relatively empty-handed, only to find out that a simple slab of rock was the sacred treasure held within, and I ignored it. I took a heavy breath. "Have you encountered any dragons, yourself?"

Farengar went into a loss of thought. "Sadly, no. My work affords me few opportunities for such an adventure." He chuckled. "Perhaps some hero will bring one to Dragonsreach, like old Olaf One-Eye once did." He seemed eager at the thought. "What a fascinating conversation that would be!"

Jarl Balgruuf interrupted the two of us. I had forgotten he was still there. "This is a priority now. Anything we can use to fight this dragon, or dragons. We need it, quickly. Before it's too late."

Farengar nodded in his direction. "Of course, Jarl Balgruuf. You seem to have found me an able assistant." He looked at me. "I'm sure he will prove most useful."

"Another wanderer, here to lick my father's boots. Good job."

A third voice, that of a young boy, spoke behind me, as the Jarl and Farengar continued speaking. I turned around to look at the boy. I raised my brow at him. What kind of attitude was that? Before I could say anything to him, the Jarl turned towards me.

"Succeed at this, and you'll be rewarded. Whiterun will be in your debt." He walked off. I turned towards the boy, but he disappeared as well. To my annoyance. I let out a huff and walked over to the enchanting table. Some of the weapons and armor I had collected were enchanted, and I figure that learning these enchantments would be useful for me in the future.

Content with the enchantments I had learned, I set myself up to head out, back to Bleak Falls Barrow, but first... I had a need to stop by the stores and see what they had to offer.

Or at least, that was my plan. As I passed by the Gildergreen, I heard a child, making me stop in my tracks and turn around to look at a young girl, sitting on one of the benches surrounding the tree. "Mister, could you spare a coin?"

I smiled softly, reaching into my pouch, and knelt to the girl, handing her the coin without a word, and a pat on her head. She took the coin eagerly and ran off with it, heading into the residential district (or I should call it the Wind District)'s houses. I glanced over and saw another woman, this one in similar robes as the one from the Execution stage. She was praying. I resumed my walk down towards the business district, until the woman stopped me.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" I paused on the small bridge crossing the sluice, and turned around, walking back to the woman. She was looking up at the tree behind her.

"Greetings, priestess. I heard something happened to the tree at the temple," I said, calmly.

"The Gildergreen, yes," the woman responded. "It's a bit of an eyesore at the moment. More of a problem for the pilgrims than for me, but not many of them around anymore."

I had assumed this was Danica, whom Hulda mentioned. I looked up at the tree. "What's so special about this tree, if I may ask?"

"To the east of here is a hidden grove where the Eldergleam resides," she answered. "It's the oldest living thing in Skyrim. Maybe all of Tamriel." I was confused, and she motioned to the tree behind her. "Our tree here in the city was grown from a cutting of that tree. You can still feel the glory of the mother tree through it. Even its name is an echo."

I looked back up at the tree. This would make sense why there's such a pilgrimage to the tree. Perhaps it served as a waypoint to the mother Eldergleam tree. "Is there a way to revive the tree?" I inquired.

"I've thought about that," Danica was thoughtful. "Trees like this never really die. They only slumber. I think if we had some of the sap from the parent tree, we could wake up its child." She frowned. "But even if you could get to the Eldergleam, you couldn't tap it. Not with any normal metal."

I looked confused. "Wait, how can we even extract anything from this tree?"

Danica explained, "Eldergleam is older than metal, from a time before man or elves. To even affect it, you have to tap into the old magic." She leaned forward. "You'll have to deal with the Hagravens. I've heard about a weapon they've made for scratching Spriggans."

Hagravens. I heard stories about them. They were supposedly witches that found the power to transform themselves into hideous bird-women. They tend to themselves several times, conducting mysterious rituals in the deep mountains.

Spriggans, I recall from my lessons back at the Marsh, were walking plant-women, guardians of the forest. They were highly protective of the trees and can easily blend in to catch unwary travelers, though I have heard tales of some scholars learning their language to commune with them.

"It's called 'Nettlebane'," Danica's words broke me out of my thoughts. "The hags terrify me, or I would have gone after it myself."

I nodded. "I'll get the Nettlebane for you, then."

"Your spirit is strong." She held a hand up in my direction, chanting a small prayer. "Kynareth's winds will guide your path." She lowered her hand. "It's held in a Hagraven nest called Orphan Rock."

I nodded, then turned and made my way down the stairs. I made a mental note to seek out this Nettlebane after I had business with the Jarl and Farengar completed. I made my way to the shops. Here, I noted that the stalls had been set up. One was selling assorted meats; one was selling various produce and cheeses - I took a guess that's the farm that had the Giant attack earlier - and another was selling simple jewelry. I paid more attention to the two buildings and entered the Apothecary immediately.

---

The Apothecary shop was what I expected. Shelves of assorted ingredients intended for brewing potions, an Apothecary table for novice crafters to practice on, and a small fire pit in the center of the room, giving a comfortable glow in the shop. I immediately turned to the woman behind the counter. Before I could say anything, she took a brief glance over at me.

"You look rather pale," she leaned forward. "Could be Ataxia. It's quite a problem back home in Cyrodill."

"You would be correct, actually," was my response. "I was bitten by a Skeever during a... an exploration of some ruins." She handed me a potion intended for diseases, and I paid her for the potion, as well as a few more ingredients that I decided to experiment on at the table. I thanked her for her business, adding, "You'll be seeing a lot more of me in the future!" And left the apothecary.

As I stepped out, I heard a bit of commotion over by the Jeweler's booth. I was concerned and walked my way over there, seeing two men and an elder woman, the latter standing next to the booth, looking visibly upset.

"Foolish old woman! You know nothing! Nothing of our struggles, our suffering!" One of the men said, both glaring at the old woman. The man who spoke was wearing noble attire, complete with a fur cape adorning his shoulders.

"Nothing?" The woman fired back. "And what of my son? Hmm? What of Thorald? Is he nothing? So don't talk to me about suffering!"

"Your son chose his side," spoke the other man, "and he chose poorly. And now he's gone. Such is the way of war. The sooner you accept his loss, the better." I looked at the man in question, noticing he was wearing Imperial armor, though I had a feeling he wasn't there at the Helgen attack.

"I will never accept his death!" The woman practically shouted at the Imperial. "My son still lives. I feel it in my heart. So tell me, Battle-Borns, where is he? Where are you holding my Thorald?"

The man in the fur looked over at the Imperial. "Do you believe this old hag?" He turned back to the woman. "'Holding him'? Why I've got him in my cellar. He's my prisoner." He suddenly pointed an accusatory finger at her, making me tense up, especially when there were other people milling about and noticing the scene. "Face it, cow! Your stupid son is dead! He died a Stormcloak traitor. And you..." He leaned close to the woman with a scowl. "You best keep your mouth shut before you suffer the same."

The Imperial took notice of the crowd gathering and grabbed the other man's wrist. "Come on, father. There is nothing more to be said here." The two men parted, and I glanced over to the woman, who seemed visibly upset from the encounter. I decided to leave her for now, not wanting to cause any more trouble.

The neighboring store from the Apothecarist's was a general store, but nothing interested me. I decided, instead, to head towards the Drunken Huntsman, still confused as to the name and what it served. However, when I approached, I saw the Dunmer, Irileth, speaking to a few of the Whiterun Guards.

"The Jarl has finally agreed to send you back to Riverwood," I heard. I raised a brow.

"Yes, Housecarl. We will leave immediately," said one of the guards, and they all saluted appropriately. "It's just against a dragon, is that it?"

"I can't afford to send anyone else," Irileth responded. "And we don't know where the dragon is. Your main job will be to keep an eye out and get the people to safety if the town is attacked." She looked at the guards sternly. "I don't expect the three of you to fight off a dragon by yourselves. But I do expect you to do your duty."

"Of course," one of the guards said. We'll keep Riverwood safe. You can count on it." He turned to the other two guards. "Let's move out. Time's a wasting."

I felt relieved, especially when Irileth stated outright that the safety of the Riverwood villagers was more important than the town itself. I gave a silent, firm nod to her as she walked past me, and watched the trio of guards exit through the large gates. I turned around and headed into the Drunken Huntsman.

The drunken Huntsman, it had turned out, was a hunter's shop, and not a tavern that I expected it to be. It was decorated within to resemble that of a hunting lodge, including meat skewered over a fire pit, and the counter in the corner was adorned with assorted armors and bows. There was a Bosmer (also known as a Wood Elf) manning the shop. A brief chat with him, and a bit of perusing around his goods, and I left. I was wasting time, I needed to head for the Barrows.

---

The trip back to the Barrows was uneventful. I arrived back at Riverwood, and remembered about the back entrance of the Barrows, figuring it was a better option than to trek through the entire ruins again. I crossed through Riverwood, nodding at the Whiterun guards that were on patrol, and proceeded past the town's other gates, making my way to the Guardian Stones. Beyond that, I remembered the hunter's tent, and that I had crossed the large river from where the Barrows were located.

I crossed the river, looking up at the mountains, trying to pinpoint exactly where the Barrows' back entrance was. However, my search was interrupted by a pair of wolves attacking me from the bushes. I was able to fell one of them and wound the other enough to cause it to flee. Once it was far gone, I turned my attention to the mountains.

I assure you, it was not an easy climb, even for an Argonian. I had trouble finding decent footholds, but I finally found the Barrows back entrance, and trekked through the caves, to the main room where I remembered fighting the Draugr Guardian.

It was quiet, no sign of any activity, though I was cautious, approaching the coffin where I remembered the tablet was hiding in. The Draugr was still there, still unmoving. I kept a wary eye on it, as I reached under the Draugr, feeling around for the tablet, and slowly pulled it out from underneath the body. The tablet itself was rather heavy, for its size, something I was not expecting. This had to be the Dragonstone, I figured, and put it away, climbing my way back out of the exit.

On the way back to Whiterun, however, I was ambushed. A lone Khajit - cat-people from a desert world - suddenly attacked me by the waterfall, bearing a strange sword and mace in each hand. He was nimble, knocking me back with every strike, but I was just as evasive, trading blow for blow, sword for knife. I eventually had the upper hand (and natural healing abilities) as I knocked the Khajit to his knees. He dropped his weapons.

"Mercy!" He pleaded. I didn't comply. He did, after all, attack me, not the other way around, and I plunged by dagger into the back of his head. I took the two weapons from him, noting that the sword was of Orcish design. The mace I was less interested in and made a mental note to sell it as soon as possible.

I made my way back to the crossroads as the sun was setting, looking up at the signs for a moment, then towards Whiterun. After a long thought, I pulled out my map. On the map, I saw a marking labelled "Orphan Rock". It was located close to...

"...Helgen." I turned around. This meant I had to walk back up towards Riverwood and find the path towards Helgen. And then who knows where from there? But I knew I had to do something else first, before handing over the tablet.

My name is Chamelion. I plan to restore the Gildergreen.