The trip to Whiterun was difficult. Even with a clear road, mostly free of dangerous animals, a sudden rainstorm made my journey all the harder. But in time, I finally made it to civilization. What the great building was, I had no idea. Was it a temple? The house of a great lord? And then I saw the barrels stacked outside - barrels filled to the brim with the life-sustaining liquid I needed to survive. With my heart full of renewed hope, I struggled to open the great doors. And so it was that I saw the master of that place and I knew my prayers had been answered.
It WAS a brewery/tavern!
Refershed for my journey, I headed west, having spied a farm I hoped might be willing to feed a hungry hero. The sound of conflict filled the air as I moved on. I stopped to investigate, having time enough to see three heroes fell a frost giant.
Aela The Huntress: Well, that's taken care of. No thanks to you.
Me: It looked like you had it under control.
Aela The Huntress: Hmmph. We did. But a true warrior would always be ready to prove his worth.
Me: And who are you that I should feel the need to prove myself?
Aela The Huntress: I am Aela The Huntress - proud member of The Companions.
Me: The Champions?
Aela The Huntress: No, The Companions.
Me: *singing* Yooooou are The Champions, my fri-ENNNNNNNND!
Aela The Huntress: I am not your friend and we are not The Champions!
Me: *singing* And you'llllllll keep on fight-tin, TIL THE ENNNNNNND!
Aela The Huntress: Well, yes we will, but we are NOT The Champions!
After giving me some recruitment speech about The Champions being a local group that was routinely hired out for monster control , I moved on and headed for the gates of Whiterun proper. The guards required some convincing but I was able to convince them that I was delivering news of the dragon attacks to the Jarl. It was then I got my first look at Whiterun proper.
Me: What a festering rat-hole! You'd have to burn this place down just to condemn it!
Deciding not to waste any more time here than I had to, I made my way to what was obviously the home of the Jarl, being the biggest house on top of the highest hill behind the city walls. Night was beginning to fall as I made my way inside. I was quickly taken into the Great Hall to stand before the Jarl himself.
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: You had best bring important news to be asking for me directly, boyo.
Me: Well, that depends. Do you consider an entire Imperial outpost on your southern border being destroyed by a dragon to be important?
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: ... yes!
Me: Well, there you go then.
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: So the rumors were true! I had thought the guards at the West Tower had too much mead, but now... the dragons have returned!
Proventus Avenicci: With respect, Jarl, I do not think you can trust the words of this so-called messenger. He wears the armor of a brigand and carries himself as a wastrel.
Me: Well, with respect... sorry, who are you?
Proventus Avenicci: I am Proventus Avenicci - Imperial adviser to the Jarl!
Me: Well, with respect Pretentious...
Proventus Avenicci: Proventus!
Me: Whatever. With respect, I don't think the Jarl can trust you as you are clearly an evil vizier!
Proventus Avenicci: What?!
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: He is a piece of women's clothing?
Me: No, Jarl. He is a servant of evil, plotting treachery and wickedness! How many times have we seen this story? A lone messenger comes in bringing warnings of doom to a leader. The leader's adviser dismisses the messenger as a trouble maker, knowing full well that the danger the messenger speaks of is real as the adviser is a servant of those dark powers. And so he keeps the leader complacent, assuring him that all is well up until... *makes a throat slitting motion*
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: Hmmm... he raises a good point, Precious.
Proventus Avenicci: PROVENTUS!
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: I was joking, Proventus! Gah, you Imperials have no sense of humor. Clearly our messenger is a bard of great humor.
Me: Uh... yes! Well spotted, Jarl!
After calming down his adviser (who I'm pretty sure IS an evil vizier), the Jarl escorted me personally to speak to his court wizard, saying that he had been researching dragons and that my expertise (i.e. I had seen one and lived) might help him with his current task.
Farengar Secret-Fire: So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons.
Me: Yep. I'm something of an expert.
Farengar Secret-Fire: In what respect?
Me: Umm... I've seen one. And I didn't die.
Farengar Secret-Fire: ... seriously? That's it?
Me: Well, it's more than anyone else has done so far!
Farengar Secret-Fire: Sadly, this is true. But I need more concrete information. But there is still a way you might help me. I just need you to fetch something.
Me: Fetch something?
Farengar Secret-Fire: Well, when I say fetch I mean "delve into a dangerous ruin full of various traps and undead abominations to all that is holy in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not be there at all."
Me: Ah. Adventuring.
Farengar Secret-Fire: Yes. It is in a place known as The Bleak Falls Barrow, some cubits to the southwest of here.
Me: Oh, do you mean this old stone? *pulling stone slab from backpack*
Farengar Secret-Fire: ... The Dragon Stone! How did you...?
Me: Eh, I was in the neighborhood. It looked valuable. Funny story, really.
Suddenly, a dark elf woman ran into the room. I found out later that she was Irileth - another of the Jarl's advisors, this one a war leader. It seemed that once again a dragon had been sighted near the West Tower. The Jarl asked me once more, as the man in the city who knew most about dragons, to go forth and aid them in seeking the beast out.
I agreed. But not before helping myself to the Jarl's silverware. Hey, a hero has to eat!
(EDIT NOTE: For future reference, I have no problem with being corrected on details of the game I unintentionally get wrong, such as wrongly recalling the name of a group as The Champions rather than The Companions. If nothing else, I can probably work that into a joke later on. I do, however, have serious problems with anyone who attempts to insult a person by using technical terms for mental disabilities starting with the word "r". It's just rude and disrespectful. Rant over. Thank you.)
Me: It looked like you had it under control.
Aela The Huntress: Hmmph. We did. But a true warrior would always be ready to prove his worth.
Me: And who are you that I should feel the need to prove myself?
Aela The Huntress: I am Aela The Huntress - proud member of The Companions.
Me: The Champions?
Aela The Huntress: No, The Companions.
Me: *singing* Yooooou are The Champions, my fri-ENNNNNNNND!
Aela The Huntress: I am not your friend and we are not The Champions!
Me: *singing* And you'llllllll keep on fight-tin, TIL THE ENNNNNNND!
Aela The Huntress: Well, yes we will, but we are NOT The Champions!
After giving me some recruitment speech about The Champions being a local group that was routinely hired out for monster control , I moved on and headed for the gates of Whiterun proper. The guards required some convincing but I was able to convince them that I was delivering news of the dragon attacks to the Jarl. It was then I got my first look at Whiterun proper.
Me: What a festering rat-hole! You'd have to burn this place down just to condemn it!
Deciding not to waste any more time here than I had to, I made my way to what was obviously the home of the Jarl, being the biggest house on top of the highest hill behind the city walls. Night was beginning to fall as I made my way inside. I was quickly taken into the Great Hall to stand before the Jarl himself.
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: You had best bring important news to be asking for me directly, boyo.
Me: Well, that depends. Do you consider an entire Imperial outpost on your southern border being destroyed by a dragon to be important?
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: ... yes!
Me: Well, there you go then.
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: So the rumors were true! I had thought the guards at the West Tower had too much mead, but now... the dragons have returned!
Proventus Avenicci: With respect, Jarl, I do not think you can trust the words of this so-called messenger. He wears the armor of a brigand and carries himself as a wastrel.
Me: Well, with respect... sorry, who are you?
Proventus Avenicci: I am Proventus Avenicci - Imperial adviser to the Jarl!
Me: Well, with respect Pretentious...
Proventus Avenicci: Proventus!
Me: Whatever. With respect, I don't think the Jarl can trust you as you are clearly an evil vizier!
Proventus Avenicci: What?!
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: He is a piece of women's clothing?
Me: No, Jarl. He is a servant of evil, plotting treachery and wickedness! How many times have we seen this story? A lone messenger comes in bringing warnings of doom to a leader. The leader's adviser dismisses the messenger as a trouble maker, knowing full well that the danger the messenger speaks of is real as the adviser is a servant of those dark powers. And so he keeps the leader complacent, assuring him that all is well up until... *makes a throat slitting motion*
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: Hmmm... he raises a good point, Precious.
Proventus Avenicci: PROVENTUS!
Jarl Balgruff The Greater: I was joking, Proventus! Gah, you Imperials have no sense of humor. Clearly our messenger is a bard of great humor.
Me: Uh... yes! Well spotted, Jarl!
After calming down his adviser (who I'm pretty sure IS an evil vizier), the Jarl escorted me personally to speak to his court wizard, saying that he had been researching dragons and that my expertise (i.e. I had seen one and lived) might help him with his current task.
Farengar Secret-Fire: So the Jarl thinks you can be of use to me? Oh yes, he must be referring to my research into the dragons.
Me: Yep. I'm something of an expert.
Farengar Secret-Fire: In what respect?
Me: Umm... I've seen one. And I didn't die.
Farengar Secret-Fire: ... seriously? That's it?
Me: Well, it's more than anyone else has done so far!
Farengar Secret-Fire: Sadly, this is true. But I need more concrete information. But there is still a way you might help me. I just need you to fetch something.
Me: Fetch something?
Farengar Secret-Fire: Well, when I say fetch I mean "delve into a dangerous ruin full of various traps and undead abominations to all that is holy in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not be there at all."
Me: Ah. Adventuring.
Farengar Secret-Fire: Yes. It is in a place known as The Bleak Falls Barrow, some cubits to the southwest of here.
Me: Oh, do you mean this old stone? *pulling stone slab from backpack*
Farengar Secret-Fire: ... The Dragon Stone! How did you...?
Me: Eh, I was in the neighborhood. It looked valuable. Funny story, really.
Suddenly, a dark elf woman ran into the room. I found out later that she was Irileth - another of the Jarl's advisors, this one a war leader. It seemed that once again a dragon had been sighted near the West Tower. The Jarl asked me once more, as the man in the city who knew most about dragons, to go forth and aid them in seeking the beast out.
I agreed. But not before helping myself to the Jarl's silverware. Hey, a hero has to eat!
(EDIT NOTE: For future reference, I have no problem with being corrected on details of the game I unintentionally get wrong, such as wrongly recalling the name of a group as The Champions rather than The Companions. If nothing else, I can probably work that into a joke later on. I do, however, have serious problems with anyone who attempts to insult a person by using technical terms for mental disabilities starting with the word "r". It's just rude and disrespectful. Rant over. Thank you.)
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