((Hello! Chronicler here with a quick note. When I began writing this, I was a bit overenthusiastic and posted Chapter one PRIOR to posting the Prologue/Table of Contents. Poor planning, and I have only just recently corrected it, as of 2/28/14, by swapping the text and title of the blog posts for my Prologue and my Chapter One. If it sounds confusing, that's because it was. So I wish to simply come out here with a reminder that THIS IS CHAPTER TWO, and CHAPTER ONE can be read HERE!))
My journey north was ill-planned, in truth. If I could have made that trek again with the practical knowledge I later gathered, it would have been much smoother, but I suppose it was the machinations of fate that led me just so. Had I been more prepared, I might never have wound up at the exact time and location that brought me into contact with the agents of destiny.Â
At the time, though, my only concern was surviving the trip. I had read many stories in which the hero survived in the wild and had retained some of their methods, but the application of those methods was a different matter entirely. I had no skill for hunting or trapping, and I was even worse at preparing the meat for consumption. What few meals I managed through those methods were poor and, frankly, disappointing.
Before leaving, I had contemplated bringing my gold, but decided that would raise suspicions that my suicide had been staged, so I set out penniless, with only the clothes on my back. How I regretted that! As I traveled, I felt the unfamiliar consequences of poverty. I had not the gold to buy food or shelter, let alone a sturdy horse to help me on my way. What little gold I made, I made through menial labor, mainly the chopping of logs for peasants' mills. It began out of desperation, but soon, I came to find a certain solace in something so base. I was embarrassed to say it at the time, but I actually enjoyed it!
With my newfound affinity for peasant work, I was able to purchase food in every town I passed and I no longer had to rely on my less-than-satisfactory hunting. I began to appreciate the landscapes of Tamriel, but even more strange, I found the company of the smallfolk refreshing. Conversation was honest and light, and often these lowly people had interesting stories and valuable survival tips to share. The remainder of my journey was actually quite pleasant.
I did not know exactly at what point I actually entered Skyrim, but I eventually found myself facing a mountain range, rising into the clouds. That was the point at which I realized just how far I had come. I might have stopped to celebrate if it were not so early in the day. To spend sunlit hours drinking when I had a mountain to conquer seemed a rather pitiable waste of time.Â
The next leg of my trip was not very enjoyable at all. The days were long and hard and tiring, but finally, I made my way around the mountains and into what I supposed, consulting a map I had purchased, to be Falkreath Hold. Having made my way past the natural border of the hold, it still felt I was no closer to civilization. The roads were surprisingly deserted, and I found myself quite alone and quite disheartened. With no inkling as to which direction to head, I set about making camp in hopes that the morning light would make things clearer as to my next course of action.
As it happened, I did not have to wait that long.
Just as I was beginning to lay out my bedroll, I perceived a sound at the furthest edge of hearing. I could not make out what it was that was the source of the noise, but I was quite certain it was growing louder. A strange and perhaps unbidden apprehension seized hold of my travel-wearied mind. Louder and louder grew the sound, and as it drew nearer, it seemed to complicate. What was a small, hardly perceptible whisper grew into an obvious whistle. As the tune went from faint to clear, it came to my attention that it was accompanied by the lazy clopping of hooves and an irregular creaking, a sound as weary as I felt. Despite the light-hearted whistling, I could not help but be suspicious as to the man the tune foretold. Drawing myself away from the road, a dagger clasped in my cracking palms, I laid in wait for the first person I had seen in days.
Momentarily, the carriage came into sight- And what a sight it was! From the distance, it appeared to be a strange shade of purple with some sort of writing done across the side in gold. I watched the mirage-like vision meander around a bend, down a hill and up again, its team of horses working to keep the thing moving. As it drew closer, though, I saw that I had been mistaken. The carriage was not purple, but a faded, dirty red. How gaudy it must have looked! And the writing I was able to read just as the cart came on. 'Bilandis Bittybundle's Bits and Bundles,' was painted there in grandiose golden letters. From the bed, I noticed, there poked any number of parcels. Bags, sacks, and chests piled up, threatening to topple over the side.
And there at the head of this spectacle was perhaps the biggest oddity of them all! Or the smallest, depending on one's perspective. Perched in the driver's seat was presumably Bilandis Bittybundle himself. A tinier man I had not seen in all my days. A shock of blonde hair fell across his angular, albeit jolly face. With a tune on his lips and a glint in his eyes, Bilandis filled the previously empty forest with a certain life. I might have lost all misgivings and walked out before him if it were not for the glint of the crossbow laid across his lap.Â
I was locked in fierce debate with myself; should I expose myself and request direction if not a ride? Or should I remain concealed and allow this strange character to pass on, unremarked?
I know not what I would have chosen if Fate had not intervened, as she is wont to do.
Just as the carriage came by, so close that I might have reached out and traced my finger along the grand strokes that adorned his conveyance, a barking rose up from it and a blur of gray came tumbling out the back. A dog the likes of which I had never seen, all legs and fur, came loping in my direction.
"Meeko! Meeko, what've you found?" cried the small man in a voice sweet with affection, though I was too preoccupied to notice him stopping the carriage and leaping out, for the dog was closing in on my hiding place, barking all the fiercer.
Throwing caution to the wind, I stepped out from my hiding spot behind the bushes, hands up. I can admit, with some embarrassment, a certain mistrust for dogs. I cannot name the cause of my aversion, though I suspect it has something to do with the fangs. Given my, well, fear of that sort of beast, I hoped beyond all hope that this Meeko's master might call him off before permitting Meeko to bite me.
Seeing me in all my unkemptness, Bilandis drew up short, crossbow in his hands, though it remained unaimed. Meeko was upon me, barking, moving about me in some strange mockery, lunging forward and then dancing back, as though the foul-smelling thing was aware of my fear. I tried to pull away, but the beast would not leave me alone.
"Gods, please, call it off!" I begged, hands drawn up against myself like a useless shield.Â
After a pause, the little fellow called the dog's name, and the furry demon fell back on his haunches. Coming to meet us, Bilandis placed a hand on Meeko's head, and I was quite offended to find a wry smile on his knife-like lips.
"No need to cry, traveler," he assured me with more than a hint of teasing in his shockingly blue eyes. Bittybundle, despite having to turn his head up a ways to look at me, given his short stature -Shorter than any Bosmer, among whose number I assumed him to be, I had ever seen- was almost intimidating. The leer in his eyes and the turn of his lips made me feel quite embarrassed. "Meeko is the gentlest of souls. Meek, in fact."
It took me a moment, in my startled state, to notice the joke, and I felt a nervous smile crawl across my face. Before I could conjure up a response, though, he was on again. The mocking glow in his eyes vanished, and his words took me on a whirlwind, turning me around in circles.
"Bilandis Bittybundle," he said with a dramatic bow, bringing him even lower to the ground than he already was, "Reknowned bard and sole proprietor of Skyrim's best reputed traveling general store, Bits and Bundles! Pleased to make your acquaintance. My apologies for my canine companion startling you. Now, it would be my honor to direct your gaze to the bed of my carriage, if you've a mind to look. If I may comment, my lord, upon your appearance, it seems to me you've had quite the journey. Should you be in need of food, potions, perhaps a bit of clean clothing, you would not find my stock lacking. Please, follow me, if you would be so --"
"A moment," I burst through. It was quite apparent to me that this Bilandis was far from accustomed to being interrupted, for his eyes narrowed and glinted like those of a snake, though his lips were arranged in a warm smile. Wanting to repair the situation, I continued quickly, "A moment, please. I- Could I ask you for a ride, sir? Or directions, perhaps, to the nearest town? I am new in these parts, and--"
It was Bilandis's turn to interrupt. "Oh, yes. For a small fee, I would be only too happy to treat you to a carriage ride and a meal! Yes, yes, indeed, it would be my own sweet pleasure, m'lord! Climb on up here with ol' Bilandis, and we'll be right on our way! We shall reach Helgen by sunup, or my name isn't Bittybundle!"
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