Village of Riverwood

It was impossible to be certain, however by your best estimation nearly four hours had passed since you left Helgen, earlier in the day you had eaten a few handfuls of wild berries and a pair of birds eggs you had looted from a nest but that had been some time ago and you could hear growls from your stomach. You were hopeful however as for the past few minutes you had been hearing the faint clang of metal on metal slowly growing louder and your pace quickens knowing you must be close, the dying remnants of the afternoon were quickly growing cool and the ragged clothes you wore did little to stave off the growing cold, as you round a corner in the road you spy the village of Riverwood only a few hundred yards ahead of you.

The village is aptly named, for it is located at a wide spot on the river you had been paralleling and in fact as you look closer you can see that the locals have actually built a lumber mill on a small island in the river itself. Other than the lumber mill and the low stone wall where the road enters the tiny village is similar to any off the other tiny villages you have seen both in and out of Skyrim; with a small assortment of log houses and huts surrounding some larger two-story buildings that are likely the inn and the local merchant or perhaps a barracks for towns guardsman.

As you enter the town a wooden sign outside the largest of the buildings catches your eye ‘Sleeping Giant Inn’ was deeply scored into the wood, you quickly shove open the wooden door and step inside, the inns common room was roughly a third full and more than one conversation comes to a halt as you enter, a faint flush touches your face as you remember the crude chest wrappings you had fashioned from the remnants of your shirt. You approach the bar and take a seat next to a pimply face Breton lad, the boy looked no more than 18 or 19 and his eyes bulged as he looked at your barely hidden breasts, his facing going first white than bright crimson before he looked away, gulping at his ale.

After telling the innkeeper of your search for employment, he points at a worried looking Imperial man sitting near the fire, “You could speak to Lucan over there” he looks doubtfully at your ragged clothes and lack of obvious weapons “He did say he what he wanted might be dangerous though”

You swivel around on the stool and stand, however before you can take a step the boy blurts out “I know you” confused, you turn to look at him “I mean I saw you with… No, I mean… In Stonebridge” the boy’s words come out in fits and starts but the word Stonebridge is all too familiar to you; that’s where that Thalmor bastard had ordered you sent you to Helgen for execution. The boy takes another gulp from his ale and starts again “I saw you in Stonehaven, I have a room upstairs and could pay you a hundred septims…” his voice trails off nervously as he looks at you, worry and hope warring on his face.

“Stay here, I will be right back” you give the boy a smile and a wink before getting up and approaching Lucan, the merchant looks doubtfully at you but when pressed tells you that thieves had stolen a small golden claw from his shop, the thieves had taken refuge in a nearby barrow which he claimed was infested with some manner of undead inhabitants. These Draugr, as he called them were apparently some kind of undead warriors that could be found in many tombs and barrows across Skyrim, after being promised a 500 septim reward you confidently assure Lucan that you will recover his claw for him.

Now your only decision is whether to set off for this tomb before the trails grows any colder or to spend the night with the young Breton lad at the bar, you are only armed with a dagger and while not incapable of magic, you, unlike most Altmer youths had spent little time studying magic, preferring the study of swordplay both in and out of the bedchamber.