Chapter 1 – On Arrival

With darkness nearly upon him in this strange land, Avingard quickly notices that the city of Falkreath was not far from the Hammerfell border. Quickly realizing that there wasn’t much time left until night, Avingard started to run along the road towards the city.

Avingard would arrive at the city of Falkreath just as the sun completely set below the horizon and the entire area became dark. Only torches from the buildings and the local guards lit up parts of the city. Walking along the road in the city he quickly spotted a place to stay called Dead Man’s Drink.

Falkreath at Night
Falkreath at night.

Upon entering the inn Avingard noticed that most of the interior was dominated by a large hall, with a warm fire crackling in the middle. A bard was singing to the patrons in one corner, while a female Nord waited tables. Along the opposite side was a long counter, where the patrons could order food and drinks, as well as rent a room.

“Welcome to Dead Man’s Drink,” an Imperial woman behind the counter called out to Avingard. “I’m Valga, the owner of this in. Are you new to Falkreath?”

“I’m new to Skyrim,” Avingard replied as he walked up to the counter and took a seat. “I just arrived from Hammerfell this very day.”

“Hammerfell?” Valga replied in astonishment. “You don’t look like a Redguard to me. I thought you would have come from High Rock.”

“I was born in High Rock but moved to Hammerfell after my father joined the war against the Aldmeri Dominion,” Avingard explained. “I have come here to join the war against the Stormcloaks.”

“A Breton joining the war against the Stormcloaks,” Valga started to say with a laugh. “Why does a Breton care about what happens in Skyrim?”

“My father was a Nord,” Avingard began, “and I promised him I would join up with the Empire.”

“I thought you looked a little large to be a Breton,” Valga replied looking Avingard up and down. “I know much of what goes around here, and I may know your father. What was your father’s name?”

“While it has been years since he last lived in Skyrim, his name was Roggard Heart-Tooth.”

“Ahh,” Valga said as she stopped cleaning the top of the counter. “While I didn’t know your father personally, I have heard stories about him. Lod, the blacksmith here in Falkreath, has mentioned your father. I suggest you speak with him tomorrow. Now, what is your name?”

“My name is Avingard.”

“Well, young Avingard. Welcome to Skyrim. What can I get you?”

“I would like a room, please,” Avingard responded. “Do you have one with a view?”

Valga began laughing, “I only have one room left. No view, but a warm bed. It can be yours for 10 gold per night.”

Giving Valga a small smile, Avingard reached into his pockets and pulled out 10 gold. Putting it on the counter he said, “I’ll take it.”

Valga picked up the gold from the counter and proceeded to walk around the counter. “Follow me,” she instructed. Avingard followed Valga to a door off to the side where she would unlock and open it. Avingard entered the room with Valga closing the door behind him.

Removing his iron sword that he had been carrying at his side and placing it on the nearest table, he sat on the bed. While it wasn’t the most comfortable bed he has slept on, it was warm as Valga said. He laid down on his back and quickly fell asleep.

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