The next day, first thing after breakfast, I grab my gear and head out to the Jorrvaskr training yard.  If yesterday’s hunting trip demonstrated anything, it’s that I definitely need to practice my hunting skills.  The last thing I want is to be at the mercy of another malevolent moose.

I was hoping I’d have the yard to myself, but several of the Companions are here ahead of me — specifically Farkas, Vilkas, and Skjor.  I haven’t seen much of Skjor yet as he seems to keep to himself, but he’s one of the elders and very much respected within the ranks.  Great.  So now most of the veteran Companions are about to witness my ineptitude with basic weaponry.  I almost turn around and go right back inside, but that’s not going to help me next time I have to face down an angry beast.

Continue reading “Chapter 5: Wilderness Challenge” →

Before I turn in, Farkas offers me some work for the following day: intimidate someone who’s been causing trouble in Whiterun.  He doesn’t get more specific than that, other than to tell me the name of my target.  Naturally it’s someone I haven’t met, so I pretty much know nothing else.  I accept the job, of course.  Wouldn’t do to refuse my very first assignment (especially in front of Farkas!) and it seems I have to build some status with the Companions before I’m considered to be one of them.  I might be in, for now, but it’s apparent I’m on trial.

The next day I’m off to get the job done.  I’m feeling pretty confident — after all, I shamed the farmer into helping that weird little guy with the cart, right?  So I just have to do whatever it was I did before.  No problem.  This so-called troublemaker will be putty in my hands.

Continue reading “Chapter 4: Beastly Behaviour” →

I follow my new friends, the Companions, toward the city gates.  The approach to Whiterun looks fairly impressive — stone walls, banners,  fortifications, and a massive peaked structure towering over it all.  There are plenty of guards stationed everywhere, but that makes sense given that there’s a war on.

There’s also a small camp of Khajiit traders outside the city walls, but that also makes sense.  Very few people trust the Khajiit, with their smooth oily voices and quick tricky claws, and therefore they’re rarely allowed inside the cities.  It also doesn’t help that moon sugar originates from their homeland — and moon sugar’s primary use is to create skooma.

Continue reading “Chapter 3: Honey in the Mead Hall” →

After a long night’s sleep (completely lacking in skooma addicts or homicidal machinery), I’m feeling much better. Alert. Energetic. Ready for whatever the day might bring.

…Then I step outside.

Does it never stop snowing here?! I’m more determined than ever to keep heading south. Even incessant rain would be an improvement.

Continue reading “Chapter 2: Climate Change” →

Ohh my head.  I knew I shouldn’t have had that extra bottle of mead… wait… where’d the carriage go?

Last thing I remember, I was on a hired carriage from Riften with several cases of Black-Briar mead.   It was supposed to be the return trip of a long journey from my pub in High Rock, the Drunken Horker.  Last week, my business partner Roddy noticed we were low on mead, and with more people joining the war every day, we definitely needed all the booze we could get to keep our patrons happy.  Unfortunately all the local pubs were having the same problem we were, and there was little mead to be had from our usual suppliers. The border towns weren’t any better off.

So like an idiot, I volunteered to travel into Skyrim and buy up several cases of Black-Briar mead from the owner of the meadery herself, Maven Black-Briar.  I knew I was in for an unpleasantly long trip, but the upside is that we could sell the mead at a premium and make a profit.   The negotiations with Maven were a right pain in the arse, but we finally settled on a reasonable price, and the hired carriage was filled to the top with cases of good premium mead.  I was looking forward to going home and getting out of this benighted frozen wasteland.

Continue reading “Chapter 1: Worst. Day. Ever.” →