[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/pXHV5LH/Skyrim-cabin.jpg[/img][/center]

[center][color=yellow][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnqPJv0UqKo&ab_channel=AramilAramil]Near Whiterun, 10th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 205[/url][/color][/center]


[i]Steel blue eyes, peering from behind helmet, focused on the enemy before him. The large warhammer he was wielding came down with enough force it almost broke the shield his opponent was carying. The warrior grinned, a terrifying sight, with his eyes filled with hate. Once more came a blow so hard it forced the other to his knee. In a desperate attempt, he raised his shield to try to block what came next. As the warhammer was lifted to come crashing down, his steel sword pierced the belly of the warrior. His grin turned into a grimace of pain and he grunted lowly, almost animal like. His eyes remained as they were, filled with a hatred the other could not understand. The hammer came down and all went black.[/i]

Dar'jhan woke up in pain, in a fur covered bed, and groaned as he touched his head. It was pounding as if being hit by a blacksmith hammer and he pitied the anvil that had to deal with this all day long. He noticed that his head was bandaged and so was his left arm. His attempt to raise himself off the bed failed as pain shot through him again and he sunk back into the straw pillow. He narrowed his eyes trying to get his bearings as he tried to look around, not knowing where  he was. The woodwork and stone hearth reminded him of a cabin, the likes you see in the wilds of Skyrim, and the furs, hides and animal heads hanging on the wall told him that most likely this was the home of a hunter. Across from him, a mounted sabre cat head looked back at him, making him feel very uncomfortable. In the light of the fire burning in the hearth, he could see another bed, a small cupboard and a large wooden table on which he could smell, more than he could see, the food set on the table. At least his nose was working. His stomach reacted to the smell with a growl and Dar'jhan wondered how long he hadn't eaten. 

[i]How long have I been here? Where is here?[/i]

A door opened, letting the cold wind come in which made the fire in the hearth flicker. A cough and a stomping of feet later a broad shouldered, tall man entered wearing clothes made out of all different kinds of fur. He had no hair on his head but the beard he wore was dark and impressive to say the least. Though strokes of silver in it revealed that he wasn't that young any more. His whole demeanour said that he was a Nord. And a bulky one at that. The Nord's eyes turned towards Darj'han, who was trying to get up once more, and a friendly smile formed on his face.

“Oho! You are finally awake! Good. Good! When we found you I wasn't too sure you would live!”

His voice was hard and loud, the laugh that followed even more so and Dar'jhan raised his hand back to his head to try and calm the pounding inside. 

“Ulfhild! Our guest has awoken!” The voice boomed out through the open door.

“I thank you for your kindness...uh...” His voice was hoarse from not using and his throat felt dry.

“My name is Brandr Stone-Biter, my Khajiit friend. And this...” A young and small child entered the room with a curious look in her eyes and a smile much like her Brandr. “...Is my daughter Ulfhild.” 

“Hi!” She waved enthusiastic.  “I was the one who found you and asked to take you with us. Papa first thought you were a bandit but...” 

“Ulfhild get some food for our guest, he must be famished.” His voice, though stern, still got a bit softer and his eyes told Dar'jhan that he loved his daughter very much. Eyes only a parent could have for his child. 

“Yes papa.” She walked to the table and started to gather things on a plate while Brandr turned towards a wooden keg and grabbed two mugs.

“My name is Dar'jhan. Or Half-moon as some call me.” His stomach growled and his mouth started to water from anticipation.

“Dar'jhan Half-moon eh?” Brandr said as he was filling the two mugs with mead. When he handed one of the mugs to Dar'jhan he looked him up and down with a worried look. “How are you feeling?”

“As if I have been trampled by an entire herd of mammoth.” Came the honest reply while Dar'jhan groaned and grimaced.

“If that would have been the case not even the Divines could have patched you up.” Brandr smirked and even Dar'jhan chuckled even though it still hurt him. He drank from the mug and a warm glow entered his stomach. He let out a sigh of bliss. Then he looked around with a confused look. “Where...am I?”

“You are in our humble home near Whiterun. We fished you out of the White River some...three days ago and...Whoa, what do you think you're doing?” 

Dar'jhan was trying to get out of bed and started to search for his things, seeing that he was only wearing pants and nothing else. His steps were not steady at all and his legs felt wobbly.

“I have to go. My caravan...Do you know anything about it?”

“We only found you and no one else.” Brandr tried to stop him and make him sit down again but Dar'jhan was stubborn and tried to make his way outside.

“I have lost so much time already...I...” He almost fell down and finally he let himself guided back to the bed where he had spent the last three days. Meanwhile Ulfhild, who had been waiting and watching, handed him a plate filled with cheese, chicken breasts, baked potatoes and a small loaf of bread. Dar'jhan waved his hand as a sign of gratitude and bowed his head. His energy had not been completely restored and he cursed himself for being in this situation. 

“I don't think it is wise to go out as you are now.” Brandr took a chair and sat down on it while Dar'jhan decided and started to eat from the platter. 

“Tell me, my friend. What happened to you?”

Dar'jhan told the Nord everything he knew and still remembered. How they had been on their way, a caravan of six, two guards and 4 merchants, towards Riverwood and planning on making a stop near Falkreath. Even though it was not a big city still the merchants believed that perhaps they could earn some coin. The other guard had rather gone straight back over the border and home, having enough of the troubles that had been brewing in Skyrim. He believed that it was not safe for them anymore and insisted repeatedly to return home. But the merchants pressed on. Around Riverwood they got attacked by a band of thugs. They had been heavily armed, more than the average bandit, so one could think they were Stormcloak soldiers but they were not wearing the Blue uniforms from which they are known. Nevertheless they were eager to fight and it took Dar'jhan all he knew to try and keep them away from the caravan. Until a warhammer ended the fight for him and all went black.

“The jarl needs to know about this, though I don't know if he will be willing to help with how things are going at the moment. When jarl Balgruuf was still in charge it would not have been a problem and I'm sure he would have sent Irileth his housecarl to investigate but with Vignar Gray-Mane...Ah what am I saying. Don't worry my friend. Even the jarl must realize that bands of bandits preying on caravan must be stopped. You eat and rest. Tomorrow you and I will go to Whiterun and speak to the jarl. One more day will not make a difference.”

Somehow Dar'jhan wasn't too sure of that yet he decided to listen to Brandr and agreed.