It was two hundred years after the Oblivion Crisis. A time of war. A time of confusion. A time in which everyone's metal was tested, that is, all except those in the Capital City of Cirodiil. Most residents of the capital city were, to say the least...
Beric was barely keeping up with Drake and Hadvar as they ran through the trees by a rushing river. They were a good fifteen paces ahead of him. Hadvar was a soldier and used to the strain. Drake had prepared for strain all his life. But Beric was a merchant. He wasn't prepared for running long distances or fighting battles, as was evident in the encounters he had been in thus far. After what seemed an hour, he started to see the wooden walls of a village ahead.
Hadvar and Drake stopped at the wall where village guards slowly opened the wooden gate. As Beric caught up, he saw the soldiers on the wall had yellow tunics with chain mail and the distinctive helmets he remembered seeing in an encyclopedia in his father's house.
As the gate slowly opened, the village of Riverwood was revealed. It had one main road that Riverwood was built on and seemed to only have around ten buildings total. As Beric looked around, he saw the villagers staring at them with worried expressions on their faces.
"It must have flown this way," Drake said looking around.
"I doubt it. It didn't fly this way when it left Helgan. I think it's more likely they heard the roars," Hadvar said over his shoulder. Beric began to hear the sharp Clank, Clank, Clank of a blacksmith's hammer and the Swoosh, swoosh of the forge being fanned, "My Uncle is the village blacksmith," Hadvar explained as he approached the steps to the building halfway through the village, "No doubt he'll be surprised to see us," Hadvar marched up the steps and took a left to the forge where the clanging was coming from. Beric held his side and leaned on the wooden railing after pulling himself up the steps.
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"You alright?" Drake said looking concerned.
"I'm fine," Beric grumbled as he caught his breath. It was obvious he was the weakest link in this trio
"Uncle!" he shouted above the noise. The big, burly and bearded man continued to clank away at what looked like a sword, "Uncle!" Hadvar shouted again. The man glanced around to his nephew and didn't recognize him at first glance, but a second look showed the recognition.
"Ha-Hadvar...what are you doing here?" the man said in a strong voice much like the Stormcloaks Beric had spoken with earlier.
"Dragons, Uncle," Hadvar said louder than normal.
"What? I'm sorry. Both my ears are bad from working this forge. I thought you said dragons. Ha!"
"You heard me right, Uncle," Hadvar said shaking his head, "One has attacked Helgan. We barely escaped with our lives," Hadvar's Uncle was dumbfounded.
"Are you sure?"
"We all saw it with our own eyes. I'm surprised you didn't hear it," Hadvar said initiating a frown on his Uncle's face, "Sorry, anyway, Helgan is burning as we speak, and we need to warn the Jarl. I was hoping I could maybe take some provisions. Maybe a bow and a few arrows?"
