The Skyrim Pirates (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

I reached the settlement of Riverwood a few days later, with the letter in my pack and a feeling of anticipation spurring me on. I hopped off my horse when I reached the centre of town, deciding that this was a good place to start my search.

“Dovahkiin, what do you need?” One female Stormcloak soldier asked, stepping forward away from the crowd that had formed quickly around me as people recognised my face.

“I’m looking for Ralof,” I said, praying that he still lived here.

Suddenly, everyone went silent, and the guard looked uneasy. Immediately, I got a bad feeling, and I frowned.

“Where is he?” I asked sternly.

“He’s not here,” The guard replied quietly. 

“What are you talking about?”

She didn’t answer. Frustrated, I tried to look taller and more threatening as I spoke, which was hard to do as a Breton.

“Look, you’d better tell me what you’re talking about -” I said angrily, but she cut me off.

“Ralof’s gone. He’s probably dead by now. He went off to save his sister and nephew.”

I grabbed her by the front of her armour and slammed her into the nearest wall, shocking both her and our audience.

“Tell me everything now,” I snarled.

“Gerdur and her son, Frodnar, were kidnapped by bandits a week ago, and they kept asking for money – a ransom. This town, we don’t have that kind of money, and Jarl Vignar wouldn’t help. The Jarl doesn’t get involved in small problems. So Ralof took off a few days ago, trying to save them,” The soldier explained quickly, watching me with wide eyes, "He hasn't returned yet."

“Where did he go? Did he say where?” I said, shaking her.

“Helgen. He said something about Helgen before he left.”

I released her, breathing heavily. Ralof, the idiot!

I spun around, knowing what I had to do.

“I’ll find them. I’ll bring them back,” I vowed, more to myself the to anyone else.

I liked Gerdur – she had been one of the first nice people I’d met in Skyrim. And Ralof … well Ralof was a different story. He was my saviour after all. Without him, I would have died a long time ago.

Just thinking about him facing a hoard of bandits alone sickened me to the core, although I knew he was a talented soldier. After everything we’d been through, it was a twisted fate to end up back in Helgen, where my story began.

“Good luck, Dragonborn,” Someone murmured.

“Bring them back, Vivian,” A small girl said with wet eyes, and I recognised her as the Frodnar’s friend, but I couldn’t recall her name. I gave her a reassuring smile and set off.

I followed the path heading to Helgen, checking my supplies as I walked.

I couldn’t believe this. All I had come here to do was to give Ralof the papers, and then I could ride to Riften to inform Brynjolf about the troublesome group of bandits or ‘pirates’. Why did the simplest of tasks always turn complicated?

It didn’t take long to reach the town’s gates. Two pikes stood on either side of the main gate, each decorated with a burnt dead body. Grimacing slightly, I went into stealth mode, sneaking up to the door and getting my lockpick out. Concentrating, the lock clicked open in a few seconds, revealing the remains of Helgen.