The town is rather average for a Skyrim settlement - its only unique feature being the large sawmill standing by the river. Your stomach grumbles harshly, you have to find a way to make some money for food.
Figuring the local inn would be the best place to find an odd job or two, you enter the hearth-warmed mead house as the sun begins to descend.
"Excuse me," you say politely, addressing the barman who looked curiously at your ragged clothes. You've only just realized you must be showing a lot of cleavage. "Could you help me? I'm looking for work, do you have any jobs that I could assist with?"
"Well...," he thought, glancing again at your unintentionally exposed cleavage. "I thought I've been hearing something about Lucan having trouble in his store, Riverwood Trader - that's him in the corner over there. I'd talk to him if you're interested."
On your way to Lucan, you couldn't help but notice the longing looks the tall Nord bard was sending your way, "Hello, are you Lucan? I've heard you've been having some problems."
"Y-yes, well I suppose I do have a bit of a problem," he stuttered, looking nervous. "You see, thieves broke into my store and stole this claw, you see, solid gold! Ran towards Bleak Falls Barrow up the mountain."
"Can you tell me more about where they went," you ask, wondering if he was talking about the large barrow nearby.
"Well its the one right up the mountain path, can't miss it really," he explained. "But... well, I'll pay you five hundred gold to get that claw back, I can't go myself - the stories of those zombie Draugr chills me to the bone!"
Your heart flutters at his words; so those creatures who so dominated you, who made you forget who you were and reduced you to a pile of blibbering, sperm drenched, orgasmic flesh, are waiting for you in that Barrow.
Your stomach growls painfully, "I... I'll consider your offer, Lucan."
Sitting yourself down in a dark corner, you really consider if you can risk accepting Lucan's job. You've already proven yourself weak to the depravity of the Draugr, what's to say you would even come back this time? As horrifying as the thought is, the idea of forever being the sex-toy of endless Draugr was still oddly enticing.
But what choice do you have?
"Hey," stated the bard, breaking you from your thoughts. "Hey I recognize you - you're , right? My sister from Cyrodiil talked about hiring you a few months ago, said you were the best harlot she's ever been with!"
Cheeks red with embarrassment, you answer, "Well, yes, that's me... Please thank your sister for the compliment, but I'm trying to put that life behind me. It got me into too much trouble... which is the reason I'm here in the first place."
"Hmm, that's a shame really," he shrugged. "There's seventy five gold in it for you if you change your mind."
As he left you consider your options: Five hundred gold would easily pay for food, get you a full set of Iron armor and several potions, but you risk losing yourself to the hordes of Draugr in the barrow, and you're not exactly equipped to resist any weapon blows.
On the other hand, seventy five gold would at least pay for food... maybe an Iron cuirass. But would that be enough for the road ahead? |