Wolfgar's Elder Scrolls Blog: Surviving the First Day

No sooner do I get to the rocks when from out of nowhere a stranger runs at me again. What the HELL!!

I fumble for my sword but he gets to me before I even have the thing drawn, so much for living another day!

He doesn’t attack me, wait! I am confused, instead he mouths off something about an enchanted shield and bolts off leaving it in my hands! What the hell is going on here? My head still hurts, my body aches like that bloody Giant danced on my ribs all night and now this! I no sooner see the stranger disappear behind the hillside when another stranger runs up to me, obviously following the first stranger and asks if I know where this thief, as it turns out, went? I obligingly point in the direction the thief ran away in. I am not confused this time but astounded, my life is a plaything for the gods, it must be or what else can explain this madness? I watch the second stranger run off after the thief and never see them again.

However I am now in possession of an enchanted shield which belongs to someone else but the pursuer didn’t have time to tell me more. So until further evidence come to light as to who the owner is I will make use of it. It seems I will need it sooner than I thought what with all these mad strangers running at me from nowhere every five minutes.

I finally manage to crumple down in between two rocks and start to think about my next move. I desperately need shelter, a bed, food and probably some medical treatment as well.

Should I head for Windhelm or Riften? My gut feeling tells me neither, west is the way to go. West? I look to the west and don’t see anything but I follow my instinct none the less, trusting it will keep me alive a while longer and head off trying my best to move as quietly as possible.

After hours of exhaustive walking and sneaking I come to a river on the opposite bank I see some buildings. Praise the gods I think I am saved.

I cross the river and head towards the buildings, still wary of whom or what I might encounter there.

Thankfully I see a woman and walk over to her. She is friendly and introduces herself as Gilfre and this place is her sawmill, Mixwater Mill. Gilfre tells me that all her workers have abandoned her to go off to war. War, what War? I think to myself. She also tells me that she needs help with chopping the wood and the heavy labour chores the previous employees carried out. If I am interested she pays in gold and I can stay for free in the workers cabin. Right now I could kiss her; instead I thank her respectfully and assure her that I will be chopping wood first thing in the morning.