Robin Smith: a Skyrim Story

Riverwood

Being in one of Skyrim's infamously simple huts really made me appreciate my little village Cyrodiil. There were 2 rooms, 2 floors, 2 beds, and 3 chairs, complete with a table and a cooking pot. While Alvor's home was far from accommodating, I still found it warm and comforting. The elk trophy staring at me definitely beat the deathly glare of that black dragon.

While Alvor went to the basement to fetch his wife, Hadvar and I made ourselves at home. I took a seat at the table, my companion following suit. We grimaced at each other, thinking about how we would explain why we looked like we'd lost an argument with a cave bear. In my case, I literally had.

"Hadvar!" Alvor's wife, Sigrid, came jogging up the stairs behind her husband. "We were so worried about you! Are you alright?"

"I don't know where to start," Hadvar began when we all settled down. "You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen... when a dragon attacked."

"A... a dragon?" Alvor leaned in. "You're not drunk, are you, boy?"

"Trust me," Hadvar chuckled, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. It was big and black, completely ransacked the town and sent every building ablaze. We barely escaped with our lives. I don't even know what became of the General, but I assume he made it out safely. I'd be surprised if he didn't."

"What about Ulfric?" I questioned out of the blue.

"That man has luck on his side, let me tell you," Hadvar replied, shaking his head. "If he can Shout, then he can deal with a dragon. I don't doubt that he's already headed back to Windhelm*. And we almost had him. Damn it!" He slammed his fist on the table.

"So let me get this straight," Alvor cut in. "You were about to chop off the Jarl of Windhelm's cursed head before a dragon suddenly descended from the skies and sent all hell loose? And you survived?"

"That about sums it up," Hadvar agreed. I nodded.

"By the gods..." Alvor turned to me. "Any friend of my nephew's is a friend of mine. If you need anything, just ask. Within reason, of course. We aren't the richest little hamlet."

"Food and supplies for travel, sir," I requested gratefully. "I need nothing more."

"A good man!" Alvor exclaimed. He fetched me some food and camp supplies. When he came back, he handed them to me and took my hand before I could step away. "Here are some supplies," he said solemnly. "But I need your help. We need your help.

"Whiterun* needs to know about this dragon," he explained. "If your travels take you there, the entirety of Riverwood would appreciate it if you gave a report and requested that the Jarl* send troops this way. We have no defense against a dragon."

"I think I can do that," I replied with a small smile. "Thank you."

Alvor assertively patted my arm and stepped away. "I'd best get back to work, then. Make yourselves at home."

He left quietly. The moment he did, his curious little daughter ran up to Hadvar. "Did you really see a dragon?!" she gasped. "Was it big? Did it have sharp teeth?"

I left Hadvar with his little cousin to dig into the apple cabbage soup Sigrid had politely set down in front of me.

"You eat like a frost troll," she laughed. "Then again, I can't blame you after what you and Hadvar just went through."

I finished quickly. "Thank you, ma'am. Sorry for making a mess."

"It's alright," she replied. "You'll give me something to do. It's been slow today."

"That's right." I remembered the forge outside. "Your husband's a blacksmith?"

"The best in town," she affirmed proudly. "...And the only."

We laughed, and I excused myself from the table. What I needed now was a nap on a real, genuine bed.

•••

I ended up sleeping through the entire night and awoke in the early morning. I got up and yawned, feeling rested.

"You slept like a bear," Hadvar commented beside me. "We needed it. Listen, I'm going to lay up here for a while. You can go on ahead to Whiterun. I hope we meet up again soon."

I nodded, packed up, and left with a wave.

When I left the house, I turned to my first order of business: the forge. I had a feeling that I could use some upgraded gear. I'd learned a thing or two about smithing from the smith at my home village and felt confident that I could make something of use.

I met Alvor at the forge. "Morning," he called cheerfully. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I'd like to use your forge," I replied.

"That so?" Alvor stood up. "If you'd like, you can help me out."

I spent the next half an hour hammering and sweating. I crafted a hide helmet and a dagger and handed the items to him.

"Not bad," he approved. "Maybe you'll remember me when you're making Skyforge* steel, eh?"

I laughed and responded sarcastically, "I'll be sure to."

I ended up staying a bit longer to purchase some steel and sharpen a steel dagger I'd found on a workbench, then improved my armor.

I said my farewells to Alvor before I left, then began my journey to Whiterun. As I left the village, I wondered about the challenges I'd encounter along the way.

Skyrim was a cold and harsh place, not to be underestimated or tread carelessly. My survival skills would be crucial to staying alive on my quest. I hoped the skills I'd learned in that Frostfall* book would help me when I needed them most.

Chapter Index (thought it would be a good idea to use this! If you still have uncertainties about something, please don't feel shy to ask. I'd literally be excited to answer any questions or concerns you may have.)

Windhelm: a city and hold (the basic equivalent of a state) in the Western part of Skyrim. It is Ulfric Stormcloak's city of birth and rule as its Jarl and, as such, is home to the Stormcloak rebellion's base of operations.

Whiterun: a hold in the southeastern portion of Skyrim. Whiterun's city has high walls that protects its citizens from countless potential bandit raids and the like, and has become a huge trading center. It is home to many little shops and side businesses, as well as the mead hall Jorrvaskr and the Skyforge.

Jarl: the ruler of a hold who serves under the High King

Skyforge: a legendary forge said to be gifted by the gods. It has the strange ability to shape steel stronger than that of an ordinary forge. A single Skyforge smith has the great honor of running the forge and is revered by blacksmiths around the country.

Frostfall: a popular survival mod found on the Skyrim Nexus website. It makes your avatar more vulnerable to the chilly properties of Skyrim's terrain and adds a set of survival skills and resources. I recently downloaded this mod in the hopes of making both my gaming experience and my story a little more interesting and realistic. I never saw Skyrim to be truly cold, in spite of all the mountains and snow. Time to change that!