Mists on the Mountains

Chapter 5: Whiterun

Chapter 5

Whiterun

"Whiterun is critically important to the war. Because of her centralised location, control of the province's roads belongs to her ruler. Though Whiterun is currently independent she is far from vulnerable. The people within are hardy, surrounded by thick walls and fierce soldiers. Capturing the city will be hard, and holding it without the support of her people would prove impossible. I recommend waiting for now. Let Whiterun decide for whom she will draw swords and we may win her without force."- Excerpt from Legate Quentin Cipius' Report to General Tullius, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Legion Forces in Skyrim. 4E 201

"You come to the city seeking aid from Jarl Balgruuf, yes?" Ri'saad asked casually. The Khajiit was still trying to put all the pieces together. He hadn't seen Greymist in years, the Nord soldier who'd saved his life. After the battle they'd shared drinks and then Greymist left for parts unknown. Ri'saad couldn't believe the Gods had brought this particular Nord back onto his path.

This was a fated meeting then.

"In a nutshell." Hammel finished his glass of wine with typical Nord gusto, not savouring the fine example of the vintner's art. The Alto Wine was remarkably aged, smooth, and rich with notes of flavour. Knowing he'd probably never taste something so exceptional again, Ri'saad took his time with the beverage. He was drinking out of his finest glass and sitting comfortably on his most expensive rug. Life truly couldn't be better.

"So, the dragons are coming back, yes?" Ri'saad shook his head, "That is very bad." He took another small sip of the Alto Wine. "Well, bad for this one's life, but not for his purse."

"What does that mean?" Hammel asked, obviously trying to read Ri'saad. Despite the time Greymist had spent among the Khajiit people, Ri'saad could tell he struggled with understanding their facial expressions. "In fact, I'm surprised you're in Skyrim at all. I know your people hate the cold."

"An astute observation." He agreed, nodding his head sagely. "In truth, Ri'saad misses his home greatly. The warm sands of Elsweyr...they are beautiful. This is a cold, harsh land, ravaged by war, and now by dragons. Why would this one come here?" While his question was mostly rhetorical, Greymist answered anyway. He shrugged his shoulders in a manner that humans considered questioning.

"The wisest trader goes where the profit is greatest," Ri'saad explained. "Even though I miss my homeland, there is much profit to be made in Skyrim. The war has frightened off most merchants and now with the dragons..." Taking a long drag of wine to emphasise his point, the Khajiit smirked. "So as long as Ri'saad doesn't end up inside the belly of a dragon, his purse will be very heavy on the return trip."

"I'm glad someone's succeeding at something," Greymist said, looking at his friend. "My time in Skyrim so far hasn't been pleasant."

"You are speaking, of course, of the execution?" Ri'saad nodded solemnly, "This one understands your frustrations. Khajiit are blamed all the time for things they do not do. If your spoon goes missing, Khajiit scum must have taken it! Terrible, terrible lies." Ri'saad shrugged, leaning back against his dresser. "But what difference can this one make? So this one deals with the lies and the glances, selling his goods outside city walls to those with the courtesy to stop by. Because the Khajiit are the only ones with fresh supplies, Nords deal with them simply because no one else can be dealt with. Very much profit in it, yes."

Hammel gazed down into his cup, taking a long sip. He seemed to be working up to something. He was perhaps ashamed, or embarrassed? Ri'saad struggled with human emotions. "I'm sorry we abandoned Free Elswyer to the Dominion. The Empire should have fought harder for you."