Helgen was only just stirring, awakening all around me as I made my way into the town. The sky was gradually growing lighter, and as I turned my gaze towards it, the orange of the sun blazed wildly from beyond the stone, the trees, the mountains, seeming just within reach in its intensity. Shielding my eyes, I stood for just a moment, appreciating the hue of the sky before continuing on to the inn.
Inside the quaint wooden structure, I found a lazy, domestic sort of scene. A servant stoking a fire, around which several Imperial guards sat, talking over their mugs. My entrance went unremarked for a moment, and I lingered in the doorway, pausing to appreciate the simplicity of it all, the idyllic nature of civilian life I had come to enjoy. It was not unlike a picture from one of my beloved tomes. A barmaid walked over, offering the soldiers more ale, which they refused. Another worker was off sweeping to the side. A man was descending the steps, lute under his arm. The barkeep, a tall, strong-looking man with long white-blond hair, leaned against his counter. He was the first to raise his tired eyes in my direction.
I was surprised to see a flash of apprehension flash over his features, though it was a fleeting impression. I could not know what he had suspected, nor what had allayed that suspicion, but neither could I forget seeing it. A bit disheartened, I continued in, a smile on my unshaven,unwashed face.
"Welcome, traveler," said the bartender, a strong Nord voice, "To the Helgen Inn. I'm Vilod. Come on in, sit by the fire, if you've a mind to. We've got beds and drink to spare." Reading my mind, he added, "If you like, I could have my boy get you a tub filled."
Feeling the eyes of the Imperial's upon me, I froze for a minute, half-suspecting they would know me. But why should they? A world away from my home in Cyrodiil, they were! If they had even heard of the suicide of a Thalmor ambassador, why should they suspect that the travel-worn Altmer in their little hamlet was the same youth? Just as that thought made its home in my mind, the soldiers rose, but did not cast another glance in my direction. With mumbled farewells to the proprietor, Vilod, they made their ways out of the inn, likely to relieve the night guards.
"You would certainly be doing me a great kindness," I said, composing myself as I made my way to the counter. With a grunt, I removed the large burlap travel bag from across my shoulder and let it fall to the ground. From my pocket, I produced my small purse and placed it on the bar. Unlike Bilandis, Vilod stayed his hands- which, might I add, were significantly larger and more calloused than those of the merchant- and did not grasp at it as I continued to speak. "I'm afraid I haven't as much gold as I have needs. A bath, a bed, a meal, a sharp razor-" (For my dagger, you see, was quite dull!) "-would not be unappreciated, yet I fear I could not pay their worth. I'd be happy to repay the remainder in other ways, though."
Vilod nodded thoughtfully, his face hard as he poured out the contents of my purse and counted the gold pieces there.
"You look in sore need, friend," he replied at length, sliding the majority of my gold into his pocket, but certainly not as much as my requests were worth, "So that won't be necessary. Think of it as a friendly discount."
Grateful, I bowed my head. Normally, I would refuse such a courtesy, but I was truly in need. I could feel the dirt all over my body, and desperation overcame pride. "Thank you. Thank you."
Vilod smiled at me before suddenly bellowing for his aforementioned boy. A youth no older than thirteen rushed into the inn from the backdoor and received instructions for preparing me a bath and fresh bit of clothes. As the boy rushed to obey, I was given a razor with which to shave my rather angular visage. Eager to clean the grime off my face, I went off to the basin around back. The feeling of water splashing across my face was incredibly therapeutic in a way that I simply can not describe. After removing the grizzly bit of stubble that had sprouted up- more than I realized I could grow- I stripped and submerged myself in the luke-warm water of my bath, the first bath I had enjoyed in some good weeks. I am not certain I have felt a sensation quite like it in all the years since.
Clean and clean-shaven, I dried myself off and slid into the clothes I had been given. It was a plain brown tunic with cream-toned trousers and some faded boots. Being particularly tall and lean, I found the clothes to be a bit loose for my liking, but a rope about the waist was a bit of a help and, regardless, the feeling of clean clothes about my clean body was wondrous. Pulling my long blond hair back into a simple braid, I felt finally presentable.
My episode of self-grooming had taken long enough for the sun to be rising steadily in the sky. Helgen was awake and bustling, or at least as much as a small town can bustle. There were few people, but they seemed to be of honest minds and good dispositions. I was very much enjoying being amid these common folk, and was just about to head back into the inn to ask Vilod if he could use any help with the work, for I was greatly in need of finances, when I heard a voice calling me.
"Cari!" I heard above the din of the people of Helgen, "Cari, is that you?"
Turning, I saw Bilandis off a ways.I wondered how it was that his head was so high above the others, and especially at the distance from which he spotted me. With a chuckle, I realized he was standing atop his carriage. Gesturing wildly for me to come, Bilandis was grinning from ear to ear. Surprisingly pleased to see a familiar face, despite my mild irritation with the fellow, I made my way over to him.
There he stood in the bed of his carriage, dressed in a small dark blue overcoat, which would hardly extend from my shoulder to my navel, but which came to an end just above his calfs. Under the coat, he wore a plain brown vest over a dirty white shirt. His trousers ended about the middle of his calves, further emphasizing his peculiarly tiny stature, much shorter, I once again noted, than any Bosmer had a right to be. He looked a bit of the child, really, with his messy blond hair and angular face, as he smiled down at me. Even standing above me, we were about eye-to-eye.
"You've cleaned up quite a bit, haven't you?" he commented, crossing his arms across his narrow chest. "I almost didn't recognize you!"
I found myself smiling. Perhaps Bilandis's was contagious, or perhaps my bath had soothed my nerves to the point of gregariousness. "Indeed. The innkeeper was quite hospitable."
"Ah, Vilod! Did you try his mead?"
"Tonight, tonight. Perhaps you'd join me? I'd be happy to further repay your kindness for bringing me here with a good bottle of mead."
Bilandis expressed his great pleasure at the invitation.
Crossing my arms, I regarded his carriage. "Well, how goes business?"
Bilandis's look soured and he leaped from his spot, his coat flapping behind him quite comically as he made his way around to the side. Meeko, who had been curled up, hidden behind a chest, followed his master obediently, and when Bilandis came to a halt, so did Meeko.
"Well, Cari, the day is still beginning! Just you watch! They love me here, Cari, and when they see ol' Bittybundle's wagon of goods has rolled on in overnight, well, the folk's just be a-linin' up to make some trades and purchases! Yes, they will, or else my name isn't--"
"Billy Bundle!" came a call from behind me. Bilandis's eyes lit up and a smile spread across his features, and as I turned I saw the source of both his voice and his pleasure.
She was a pretty young creature, with the fair, light brown hair characteristic of the Nordic people. Hazel eyes were bright with an internal warmth, suggestive of a certain kindness and compassion. It was from thence came her beauty, not from her features, for she was rather plain of face, though her smile was certainly comely. At first glance it seemed to me that this woman was a paragon of small-town Skyrim.
From Bilandis's voice, I could tell he felt quite the same way. "Elsiv!" he replied, opening his arms, palms raised in a rather grand greeting.
Elsiv was coming towards us quickly, her smile widening as the gap between us narrowed. "Bilandis Bittybundle! I've been marking days off waiting for your carriage! You're getting a bit slower, you know!" she teased, hands on her narrow hips. It became suddenly apparent to me that there was a gold band about one of her fingers. "I've found myself in dire need of a new set of pots, and I was debating finding a new supplier, what with you taking forever to get here and all."
Chuckling, Bilandis tilted his head back to come right back at her. "Well, I might not be so long if it weren't for my nasty habit of playing the hero and picking up bums from the side of the road."
It took a moment to realize that he was gesturing towards me and that both sets of eyes were on me.
"What?" I asked, somewhat confused, unable to keep a smile from my features.
"He doesn't look like such a bum," Elsiv commented matter-of-factly.
Bilandis smiled with an impish glint in his eyes. "Ha! You should have seen him a few hours ago. A right mess he was. Now, come on, Cari, be a fine gentlemer and introduce yourself!"
"Ah, yes," I said, obviously out of my depth when it came to socialization. I had not the stamina for such situations. "Alcarien Laure, my lady. A traveler. If I may mingle proposition with introduction, I am looking for work. Wood-chopping, primarily, though I suppose I could be helpful in other capacities."
Elsiv considered me for a moment, crossing her arms. "Well, I could certainly make use of you. See, my husband is off on one of his hunts, and, coincidentally, I'll soon find myself in a fix if I don't get some more firewood."
"Ah, Henrik," Bilandis cut in, "Quite the hunter, isn't he? I believe he was gone the last time I was in town. Spends more time in the woods than in the holdfast, doesn't he?"
Elsiv had a laugh for that as well. "Coming from the traveling salesman, I suppose that means something. Yes, Henrik is fond of his hunting trips. I can't say I mind the occasional time alone and all the fresh meat upon his return."
We continued chatting in such a manner, we three, the wanderer, the merchant, and the wife, and I picked up bits and pieces of news. More information on this Stormcloak Rebellion and the presence of General Tullius himself in the keep, which Bilandis remarked he found quite curious, indeed. I was just beginning to participate in the conversation when some commotion arose from the town gate, which was being opened. A ruckus ensued as mounted Imperials led a small caravan of carriages into town and the name "Ulfric Stormcloak" was carried along the growing crowd.
"Gods," breathed Bilandis, "Have they caught the bastard?"
Even I, a stranger in these parts, knew this could be a matter of no small importance.
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