The plan was simple.

Reach Whiterun. Sell everything that wasn’t nailed down. Leave richer.

As I approached the city, shouting carried across the road. Loud. Urgent. The kind of noise that usually means trouble or unpaid bounties.

Inside Whiterun, two men were arguing with a guard. I slowed down to listen.

That’s when a courier appeared. Apparently he’d been looking for me. He handed over a note from a “friend,” suggesting I head somewhere important.

I added it to the mental to-do list and refocused.

Whiterun Business

The two men finally finished with the guard and approached me.

They were Alik’r warriors, hunting a Redguard woman. If I spotted her, they’d pay me.

That was an easy yes.

I sold what I could, then went straight to Farengar. Gold became spells.

I upgraded Flames and Sparks, debated a few others, then decided to report to the Jarl instead.

That decision escalated quickly.

The Greybeards had summoned me. Apparently they live at the top of a mountain. Seven thousand steps up.

I am an Argonian. Cold and altitude are not my strengths.

Before I could object, I was named Thane of Whiterun, handed an axe, and assigned a housecarl.

Lydia joined the party.

Spell Shopping and Favors

I returned to Farengar one last time.

I picked up Lesser Ward and Conjure Flame Atronach. Practical choices. Controlled chaos.

Farengar also asked me to deliver Frost Salts to Arcadia. Easy job. Possibly gold.

Lydia received the axe. She seemed happy.

Arcadia paid me in potions and casually mentioned I could help myself to her stock.

I did not question this generosity.

Delayed Justice

On the way to find a bed, I spotted the Redguard woman.

I spoke to her. She knew she’d been found.

She wanted to talk.

I wanted sleep.

The Alik’r had promised payment, and Rorikstead was on the road anyway. I made my choice.

Road to Rorikstead

I left Whiterun at first light, eager to test my new spells.

Wolves were the first volunteers.

I dual-cast my upgraded fire spell. It looked spectacular. I briefly considered shouting “Hadouken.”

It was excessive. One cast would have done the job.

Necromancers were less impressed. They used wards. My magic bounced off.

Lydia solved the problem with steel.

I looted their camp. One robe boosted magicka regeneration by 75%. A clear upgrade.

One of them carried a spell tome: Fury.

I learned it immediately.

Swindler’s Den

I reached Swindler’s Den about halfway to Rorikstead.

It looked defensible. Promising. Possibly warm.

If there’s a bed inside, I’ll find it.

If not, tomorrow is going to hurt.

Either way, that’s a problem for the next log.

Continue the Journey

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Cold-Blooded – Log 3
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Cold-Blooded – Log 5