Skyrim: Became Dovahkiin

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### Solitude. In an Old House

The smell of dampness upon entering the house irritated the nose. It was a two-story stone house. There were several rooms with various luxurious furnishings. The windows overlooked Solitude's main square. Red embers remained in the fireplace, giving off a faint warmth.

Near the fireplace was a wooden table with an elegant chair. Each pattern was carved by Skyrim's artisans. An Imperial woman sat in this chair. She was dressed in a brown vest and yellow trousers. Her face was clouded with gloom. Her eyes stared blankly into space.

Crackling of embers

At the sound, the Imperial woman's face changed from dejection to anger. Her face flushed, and her eyes filled with hatred.

"May you die, you filthy Stormcloaks! Along with that prisoner!" Her scream was audible even in the street.

She threw everything she could get her hands on into the fireplace: cups, chairs, the table. Every object broke from the force applied and covered the embers. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out, and her heated blood slowed.

"Ugh. It's all because of that criminal." Shards of the past pierced her heart. She hadn't expected it to happen this way.

A tear rolled down her tanned cheek. Anger gave way to sadness. It seemed that every decision she had ever made until this moment was reflected in that tear. The Captain's grief was understandable.

After all, she had lost to one of the rebels and his accomplice. This was unworthy of someone holding the rank of captain. The death of her subordinates and the bitter taste of defeat lingered in her mouth.

"I need to track down the fugitives." Determination was in her voice.

The former Imperial captain took off her vest. Numerous burn wounds were visible on her back. The redness had not yet faded from her skin, and blisters were visible. The priests had done a good job treating the burns. In essence, her back was in a deplorable state, possibly a third-degree burn. The blisters on her back were filled with pus with tiny drops of blood. The entire area of her back was red. Before, her back had been completely charred with dead skin, but thanks to the best healers, they avoided bad consequences. (I'm not sure about this Imperial's burns. I don't know much about healing magic. Maybe I'm fantasizing.)

However, her shoulder joint tendons and posterior thigh muscles were severely damaged. Precious healing time had run out, and it was no longer possible to restore the tendons. Now she couldn't run fast, swing a sword, or... Serve in the Legion.

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### Several Days Later

The carriage stopped at the stable. This stable was owned by Skulvar Sable-Hilt. He sold horses for 1000 or more septims. His assortment included various horses: strong, fast, enduring, or suitable for battle. This was a difficult business, and several workers and his son, Ysold, worked at his stable.

Leaping from the carriage, John landed on the soft ground and stretched. His muscles were stiff from constantly being in a horizontal position. The poor quality of the roads was a drawback. He was shaken so quickly and violently that even an old man with Parkinson's would have been surprised.

"Ah. Finally arrived." The Dovahkiin yawned slowly.

"Alright. Good luck, John."

"You too, Kiebell." I said goodbye to the bald Nord.

The young Dovahkiin had already left the carriage and reached the city entrance. The enormous gates opened. Bright light streamed from the open gates. Squinting his eyes, John surveyed his surroundings. Many people walked through the city. Various merchants offered their goods and services on the street. Guards strictly maintained order. Their task was quite clear.

Looking up at the sky, one could see smoke from the chimneys of nearby houses curling upwards. This created an atmosphere of a certain coziness. This was the first city John had visited, both in the game and in this world.

"Perhaps I was brought here for a reason."

A fleeting thought passed through his mind. But now was not the time for such topics. He needed to get to the tavern and pick up his companions. Perhaps they had been waiting for him.

He walked down the street and was already at the tavern entrance, but...

"Hey. John?" The young man turned around. A familiar girl in a blue dress with a bag was calling him.

"Ah. Hello, Ysolda." John smiled.

"Hello. You see. I wanted to ask you... You haven't been in Whiterun for a long time. And I thought you found a mammoth tusk." She was a little shy about asking.

"Oh, you mean that. Of course, I already got it on the way." John pulled a white mammoth tusk from his bag. "Here you go."

"Thank you, John!" She took the tusk in her hands. "Now I can finally learn trade from the Khajiit."

"Uh-huh. Good luck. And most importantly, Ysolda. Don't invite them into your house or city." John gave her some advice.

"Um. Why?" Confusion appeared in her eyes.

"Does he hate Khajiit?" she thought. Perhaps John wasn't as good as she imagined.

"You don't know? Khajiit like to take things without asking the owner when they need something. They might not return the item. Or they might give something of equal value. It's just their culture."

"Really? I didn't know." She shook her head.

"Of course. Be more careful. That's why Khajiit aren't allowed into cities."

"I'll remember that. Thank you."

"Uh-huh." The Dragonborn merely shrugged.

He had already turned away from the conversation partner and wanted to enter the tavern. Again, some force prevented him from entering the Bannered Mare.

"Stop it, Mikael. I'm working right now."

"Come on, Carlotta. Maybe we could go into the tavern and have some wine?" The blond Nord was pestering the Imperial woman Carlotta.

"I don't have time for you right now. I need to sell goods and provide for my daughter."

"Oh, really." Mikael looked at her with some interest.

It seemed this Mikael was quite persistent. John had played Skyrim many times. There were various ways to deal with this bard. He could use persuasion and ask him to leave Carlotta Valentia alone. This works if you have good speechcraft or a potion. There's also intimidation. Threaten him. And finally, a fight. Ugh. It seems I'll have to get involved in this again.

"Hey! Mikael." John called the bard.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm talking to a lady?" the Nord replied rudely.

John walked up to the bard and dragged him into an alley. Mikael resisted, but John's strength was hard to resist. Already in the alley.

"Damn it. Who do you think you are?" Mikael finally slipped out of John's grip.

"Mikael, I need to talk to you."

"Oh, really? I thought you were going to punch me in the face." Mikael raised an eyebrow.

"I prefer talking. So. Why are you bothering Carlotta?"

"None of your business!" the bard said aggressively.

John sighed. These smug young men could be difficult to deal with. Still.

"Listen, Mikael. I know you want to impress Carlotta, but you won't get anywhere with showing off," John said calmly. "You know she needs to earn money and feed her daughter Mila. It's hard enough for her, and you're just making it harder to work. I advise you to just leave her alone or help her in some way."

Mikael stood and listened to John. His face changed from mocking to serious. Mikael seemed to be listening.

"You know what. I guess you're right. I shouldn't have acted that way. I'll leave Carlotta alone. There's more than one pretty girl in Skyrim, after all." Mikael calmed down a bit.

"You've done the right thing. Good luck."

Speechcraft skill increased

He gained a pleasant bonus from this conflict. Another speechcraft increase. His speechcraft level seemed to have reached level 45. Quite excellent.

John, with a joyful expression, entered the tavern. There were few customers that day. The smell of stale alcohol had almost completely aired out of the hall.

"Hey. John..."

Sound of a slap