Upon the road, our mighty hero and his loyal companions journeyed. The way back to shining Whiterun, much easier to find, for following the road, than the little village of Ivarstead, or the harrowing Throat of the World Mountain. Perhaps the Dragonborn had been humbled by the four days lost wandering in the wilderness. Perhaps he had learned a lesson on patience after his mighty shouting battle with the four mighty Greybeards of High Hrothgar. Perhaps being set-upon by a strange group of cultists immediately upon being recognized as Dragonborn had dulled the blade of his impertinence. Perhaps his road of errors and missteps would one day lead him to--"


    being followed by a bard to record my epic journey'' thing. Who was it that you said sent you, anyway?"


    Dibella, huh?"


    kinds of revelries?" Rach asked.


    Wingcutter."


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Hand over your gold!"


    Rach and Astra suddenly stopped short, with inigo bumping into them and Lydia bumping into him. Before them was a nord in tattered rags, wielding a rusty knife. He waved it in the air menacingly at his victims.