//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Nothing is Ever Free // Story: The Equine Scrolls: SkyFiM // by FireOfTheNorth //------------------------------// Chapter II: Nothing Is Ever Free “Everything’s for sale. And I do mean everything. Why, if I had a sister, I’d sell her in a second.” After Bereloth took off, I consulted my map. I could see where Hoofgen was, and I knew I was near Hoofgen, but other than that, I had no idea where I was. Riverwood, however, was extremely close. Bereloth had offered me a chance to stay there, at some place called the Riverwood Trader. It was the best place to start. But how I was to get there, I had no clue. A path ran between Hoofgen and Riverwood, so I figured the best course to take would be to head west until I found the path. The sun had not yet reached its zenith, so I set out with its warmth shining on my hindquarters. Though Horizon lay mostly to the south of Unicornica, it was surprisingly more frigid. Somewhere I had read it had something to do with the multitude of mountains or something, but I hadn’t paid it much mind. All I knew was that I felt lucky to have this fur-lined armor. No snow was falling here, but I felt a chill in the air nonetheless. I wouldn’t relish exploring the more frigid regions of the earth pony homeland. It was easy travelling, the hills here sloping slightly downwards. I would be on my way to Riverwood in no time. That is, if I hadn’t been delayed. I would’ve been caught completely unaware by the wolves if their howling hadn’t alerted me. I barely had my war axe unsheathed before one came charging out of the timber at me. A quick slash at its throat stopped it cold. Three more ran up to me, forming a rough circle. I launched a ball of fire at one, but it was too quick and jumped to the side before turning toward me. It lunged at me with its claws as I stabbed it in the back with my axe. I bucked it in the chest before it could bite me, sending it flying. When it came back at me, I bashed it in the nose before sinking my axe into the top of its head. Another jumped at me, growling, but stayed out of the reach of my axe. I jumped back as it gave a swipe of its claws at my forelegs. Jumping back forward, I slashed at its side. Giving a whine, it died. The last one jumped on my back while I was preoccupied with its companion. Snarling, it sank its teeth into my shoulder. I gave a cry and threw the beast off. As it ran back at me, I sank my war axe’s blade into the side of its face. Now that I was safe for the moment, I tended to my injured shoulder. His teeth had sunk in, but not too deep. Even so, the blood was staining my light gray coat a dark red. I drank down a potion of minor healing I had picked up at the Imperial garrison and the wound healed itself up. Giving a shiver to dispel the unearthly feeling of healing, I wiped my blade off in the grass. Looking up, I saw I was not alone. Through the trees I could see a forest green earth pony. Strapped to his front was an apparatus that would let him hold and fire a bow while keeping his hooves free. Held in his teeth was an arrow that was drawn back to point at me. “What do ya think you're doin’?” he asked with a thick Horizon accent, “I hunt these woods.” “I’m not hunting,” I said, trying to keep the pony with the ability to end my life calm, “These wolves just attacked me. You can have them if you want.” “Yer not from around here, are you?” he asked, lowering his bow. “No,” I said, “I’m from Unicornica.” “An Imperial?” he asked raising his bow back up. “No,” I said, “I was captured by the Imperials. They were going to execute me at Hoofgen. I just escaped from there.” “Escaped from the Imperial garrison a’ Hoofgen?” he asked skeptically, “A wee pony like yerself?” “Well, there was a dragon attack,” I said. It was the truth, and the truth would just have to be good enough. “Dragons, eh?” he laughed, dropping his bow completely, “All right, have it your way stranger. I won’t get in the way of wherever yer goin’” “Do you know how to get to Riverwood?” I asked the hunter-pony. “Path’s right past that big pine back there,” he said, motioning over his shoulder, “Just follow it north along the river.” “Thanks,” I said, taking off in the direction he pointed out. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ The hunter-pony hadn’t led me astray. The path was just past the tree and down a steep embankment. Following the path, I soon found myself walking along a gently flowing river. In the shimmering water, I could see salmon swimming around. It was so tranquil as I walked along the path. Butterflies flapped through the air around me. A deer took off at my approach, disappearing into the woods. Unfortunately, the tranquility was not to last. As I rounded a bend I heard the ring of a sword being pulled from its sheath. Pulling out my war axe, I searched for the source. Three Imperial soldiers were standing down the path with a Stormcloud prisoner. Two of the soldiers charged me, swords drawn. “Die, Stormcloud scum!” one of them yelled. What? Why would they think I was a Stormcloud? Oh, right, the armor. I threw up my axe just in time to stop her blade from hitting my head. Giving a twist I knocked her sword away and swung my axe at her. It hit her shoulder, but glanced off her armor. Swinging her sword around, she knocked my axe away from her. I was forced to jump back as her sword came back up toward me. Her next swing came close to decapitating me, but I had plenty of time to block with my war axe. I smashed my axe against her sword repeatedly until her block was broken and I sank my blade into her neck. I noticed the Stormcloud prisoner had attacked the soldier left guarding him. He smashed in the guard’s skull and began to cut his bonds with his sword. But, where was the other soldier? I jumped to avoid his slash from behind, but still took a cut on my hindleg. I bucked at him to buy time before swinging around. I wrapped a bandage around my wound before levitating my war axe back up. Wiping the blood from his nose where I’d kicked him, he leapt at me swinging his sword. I blocked with my axe, and twisted the sword out of his magical grasp. I buried the blade of my axe between his forelegs. Choking blood out through his mouth, he fell to the ground as I pulled the axe out. I felt the blade of a sword against the back of my neck. What was this? I thought all the Imperial soldiers were dead. I turned my head slightly to see the blade was held by the Stormcloud prisoner I had freed. “You’re no Stormcloud, unicorn,” he spat out, “You dishonor this uniform.” I spun my war axe around and knocked the sword away from me. The impact jarred his mouth, but didn’t hurt him. He grunted angrily as I spun around. Leaving me no time to explain myself, he slashed the sword at my forelegs. I jumped up and swung my axe at his head. He ducked, but tried to sweep my legs out from under me again. This time I jumped and landed on his sword, pinning it to the ground. As he tried to pull it out, I buried the axe in his forehead. I picked up the sword and examined it. I already had an Imperial sword, but it was still a nice weapon, and probably worth a good amount of coin. I sheathed it and put it in my saddlebags. I also looked over the bodies of the dead soldiers and found a small amount of gold coins and a few healing potions. One even had a jeweled amulet on I would be able to sell for a few coins. I pulled the bodies off the road and into the brush before continuing along the path. Hopefully I would be able to make it to Riverwood without any more interruptions. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ The entrance to Riverwood looked surprisingly like the entrance to Hoofgen. Except that there was no gate built into the walkway over the road, and no guards were walking on it. It seemed to be a peaceful town. Ponies trotted around greeting their neighbors as chickens walked freely in the streets. It wasn’t a large town, not even as big as Hoofgen. The main street (and only street) was lined on both sides with a smithy, an inn, a trading post, and small houses. Off the main street and against the river there was a lumber mill. “Welcome traveler,” somepony called out to me. I waved back in greeting and continued through the town. Ponies sure were friendly here. “Stormcloud scum,” another said, spitting at my hooves. Well, some ponies were friendly. I had to get out of this Stormcloud armor before it got me in trouble. “A dragon!” I heard somepony yell out. Oh no. The dragon had come to Riverwood now! I looked up at the skies, but they were clear. “I tell you, I saw a dragon!” I heard the pony call out again. “Get back inside mother,” a buck said, pushing his elderly mother, who was making the racket about the dragon, inside their home. Without wanting to seem like a crazy pony, I walked on and said nothing. The hunter back in the woods already thought I was crazy for believing in dragons, I didn’t need the whole town of Riverwood thinking the same thing. It wasn’t hard to find the Riverwood Trader. A great big wooden sign with the name hung out front. It was also the largest (and only two-story) building in the town. Tentatively, I pushed the door open. “Hello?” I asked; hoping somepony was here. “Welcome to the Riverwood Trader,” a lively stallion said, emerging from the back room, “Anything I can help you with, my friend?” Now I had to admit, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was doing at this point. Bereloth had said to stop here if I ever wanted to stay the night, but it was barely past noon. I settled with getting whatever I could. “Supplies, directions, I’m not sure,” I admitted, “Bereloth told me I could stay here if I wanted.” “Bereloth?” a slightly less lively mare said, emerging from the back room to join the stallion, “You’ve seen my son? Is he all right? We haven’t received word from him in a fortnight.” “He was fine when we parted ways,” I explained, rather uncomfortably, to these strangers, “We escaped from Hoofgen together.” “Escaped?” the mare asked. “The Imperials were going to execute us, but a dragon attacked the town first.” “A dragon?” the stallion asked skeptically. “I know it’s crazy,” I said, “But it really happened.” “By Buckatosh, it’s really happening,” he said, “The prophecies were right.” “Prophecies?” I asked. In response, he pulled a book down from a shelf behind the counter. As he opened it up, I realized it was the same book that was in my saddlebags. The Book of the Dragonborn. “And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold,” he read. “That when brothers wage war come unfurled,” his wife continued. “Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound.” “With a hunger to swallow the world.” Okay, I still didn’t get it, even after their chant. He must’ve seen my expression, for he began to explain. “Alduin, the world-eater, the most powerful dragon ever, has returned. If he is not stopped, he will consume everything.” That certainly didn’t sound good. But what could I, just one pony, do about it? Bereloth’s parents had already decided that for me. “Here,” the mare said, tossing me a set of proper saddlebags with some food and a few potions already in them, “You must warn the Jarl about this threat.” “Jarl who?” I asked as I put my belongings in these new saddlebags. “Jarl Valor’s Blade in Whitetrot,” she explained, “Tell him Eruthar sent you. He’ll believe me.” “How do I get there?” I asked, a bit alarmed that events were spiraling out of my control. “Follow the road north-west out onto the plains. You can’t miss it, it’s a big city on a hill.” “But,” the stallion said, looking me up and down, “We may want to get you some different armor first.” ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ That’s how I found myself setting out yet again in the same day for someplace I had no idea how to get to. Sure, it couldn’t be too hard to get to Whitetrot, the road was clearly marked, but I didn’t why I was doing this in the first place. Sure, I was in debt to Bereloth, both for him saving me in Hoofgen, and for him offering me lodgings. And this dragon was a pretty big deal. After all, it was the first dragon seen in the Northlands since the reign of Talhooves. And if what Bereloth’s father said was correct, this particular dragon meant to devour all of the known world. But that still didn’t explain why I was hiking through the wilderness to warn the Jarl. My whole plan for leaving Unicornica involved laying low here in Horizon, where ponies wouldn’t recognize I was a blank flank. Approaching the Jarl of Whitetrot certainly didn’t seem like laying low. As I left the mountains and entered the plains, I caught sight of the great city. Just as Eruthar had said, it was built on the only hill for leagues around. A multitude of buildings were clustered within the protective wall, climbing up right to the base of the palace that topped the mound. As I climbed down into the plains, I found I was not alone on the path. Two unicorns wearing fine clothing were trotting at a leisurely pace, flanked by two Imperial soldiers. “I don’t know why she can’t have her wedding in the Imperial City,” the mare complained, “Instead she makes us travel out here to the backside of the world.” “She’s Golden Bullion,” the stallion said, “She does it because she can.” “The least she could do is provide passage on a ship to get here,” the mare responded, “Or not expect us to arrive so early and wait for the preparations to be finished.” “Look on the bright side,” the stallion said, “She’ll have to provide days, if not weeks of free food and lodgings for us, along with nightly parties.” I paid them no mind and passed by, getting looks from the soldiers, but nothing more. At the Riverwood Trader I had traded in my Stormcloud armor for a set of simple leather armor. Now I wouldn’t be attacked by Imperial soldiers and insulted by Imperial supporters. I had also sold one of my swords and the jeweled amulet for a small amount of coin. The gold pieces were a comforting weight in my saddlebags. As I passed small farms, the great city grew larger. It was certainly an impressive sight, not near as big as the Imperial City, but huge for a city in a province like Horizon. Just to reach the main gate I would have to cross through two others under the eyes of watchful guards and zigzag up the hill. Whitetrot looked like a city prepared for war, but it looked like no fighting had come to it in centuries. “Halt,” the guard at the gate called out as I made for the entrance, “What is your business in Whitetrot?” “I’ve come to speak to the Jarl,” I said, though I was still blurry on my motives for it. “Oh, sure,” the guard said mockingly, “Everypony who wants to can speak to the Jarl.” “I have to,” I said, pushing onward, “I’ve come to warn him about a dragon attack at Hoofgen.” “A dragon attack? Really?” the guard laughed, “And you have to speak to the Jarl about it? Fine, where’s you summons?” “Summons?” “Not everypony gets to come before the Jarl. Show me your summons and you can enter.” I looked at my hooves. I had no summons; Eruthar had said nothing about me needing one. “That’s what I thought,” the guard said, “Keep out of our city, troublemaker. You know, Hoofgen is Jarl Sibli’s territory. Maybe you’re some kind of Foalkreath spy come to kill the Jarl.” A spy I was not, but this guard didn’t trust me any farther than he could see me, so it looked like I wouldn’t be getting into this city at all. What a disappointment. Hanging my head, I headed back to Riverwood. “Psst,” I heard somepony say as I turned to leave. Or, not somepony. The person who had caught my attention and was now waving me over was a zebra. I had always been wary of zebras back in Unicornica. They had a reputation for being thieves. You were likely to find your coin purse a few coins lighter after getting close to them. But I had nothing to lose now, not with a guard so close, so I walked over to the little encampment she was standing in. She was not alone. Among the little tents and cookfires were several zebras, all dressed for traveling. She motioned me to sit down as I got close. Careful to keep my distance, but not seem rude, I complied. “Sar’van could not help but overhear, you have great need to get in there.” “Yes,” I said hesitantly. I didn’t know much I could trust this zebra who spoke in third person and in rhyme. “A summons you’ll need, to get inside. Sar’van knows of one, who help can provide.” “Yes,” I said. “A pony in Foalkreath, authority can bend. But not for anyone, no, just for a friend.” “Sar’van knows him well, her friends he will see. But first, you must do something for me.” “What is it?” I asked. I wasn’t going to lock into this zebra’s scheme if I didn’t know exactly what she wanted in return. “Bandits at Fell Rock have stolen from me. Retrieve my trinkets, and the inside of Whitetrot you’ll see.” ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ Fell Rock wasn’t far from Whitetrot, just a short trot west. It turned out to be a cave built into an actual rock. A campfire burned outside the cave entrance and two ponies stood around it. I got as close as I could before fitting an arrow to the string of my bow. Pulling it back, I released and let it fly. It missed both of them, knocking against the rock behind them. They both pulled out their weapons and investigated the noise. As I approached to sink my axe into the back of one, my tail brushed up against the cooking spit. The lid toppled off a pot and alerted the bandits to my presence. The first one came at me with a war axe extremely similar to mine. I blocked, and twisted it out of her mouth easily before swinging my axe into her neck. Pulling it out, I jumped back to avoid the swing of a warhammer at my feet. Shooting fire at the bandit I swung my war axe at his head. Even engulfed in flames he managed to back off and pull his warhammer out of the ground. He aimed another swing at my head and I ducked down. As the heavy weapon flew over my ears, I slashed at his hooves with my axe. Giving a grunt of pain, he dropped the warhammer, allowing me to bury my axe in his chest. An arrow whistled past my head as I entered the cave. I hid behind a protrusion of rock and waited for the shooter to reveal themselves. A red mare with a sword in her mouth came charging around the corner. I knocked her sword away from my neck as she aimed a slash at it. She swung again and this time I blocked, catching her sword between the blade and haft of my axe. I tried to disarm her, but she was faster and flicked my axe out of my magical grasp. I pulled my Imperial sword out of my saddlebags and held it up just in time as she brought her own sword down at my head. Sparks flew as the blades met and I pushed her away. Spinning the sword around, I aimed a slash at her side. She blocked, but I pulled back and spun the sword back around at her other side. She jumped back, but the blade nicked flesh. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the archer also in the tunnel with us. I remembered her presence as an arrow buried itself in my flank, right where my cutie-mark would be if I had one. Seeking to finish up my fight with the sword-mare as soon as possible, I swung as hard as I could, breaking through her block and cutting her throat open. I retrieved my war axe and cantered down the tunnel. Unwisely, the archer was standing right in my path. I charged her and took another arrow to my shoulder, but I plowed into her knocking her to the ground. My axe came down on her neck and the dirt floor was stained with her blood. I retrieved the arrows from her quiver and pushed into the cavern she had been guarding. Only one bandit was left. A towering buck with a nasty-looking scar running down his face. Giving a war cry, he charged me, a battleaxe held in his teeth. I jumped out of the way as his first swung came at me. I also dodged the second before blocking the third with my sword. As he pulled back for another swing, I slashed at him, cutting a gash in the front of his chest. His next swing got lodged in a wooden bench as I jumped out of the way and I took advantage of it to sink my sword into the back of his neck. Now that the fighting was over, I tended to my wounds. Pulling the arrows out, I drank down a healing potion. The skin reformed over the holes with a slight tingling. Now I could have a look around. There wasn’t much down in the cavern. A few bedrolls were set out for the bandits to sleep in. Somepony had left their boots behind, next to the fire burning brightly. Warmth and light radiated from it, filling the whole chamber. A few pots of stew hung over it, simmering. The chest against the wall was what caught my attention. It was locked, but luckily the last bandit I had killed had the key on his body. With a satisfying click, the chest opened. Inside I found a heavy coin purse filled with gold, a few amethysts, a steel dagger, and the sack of Sar’van’s “trinkets.” They turned out to be exquisite silver and gold necklaces and rings studded with gems. I could easily take these and make a fortune, maybe enough to pay my way into Whitetrot. But I had taken this job from Sar’van and I intended to finish it. No backing out now. I did, however, take the rest of the loot in the chest for myself. With my saddlebags considerably heavier (after taking some bandit armor as well) I left the cave and headed back to Whitetrot. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ “Sar’van is glad these have returned. A friendship with her, you now have earned.” Sar’van was understandably overjoyed to have her (extremely valuable) jewelry returned to her. I only wished she’d stop fawning over it and help me get into the city she was camped beside. “Of course you wish to enter Whitetrot. With Sar’van’s help, there is no way you cannot.” It was like she could read my mind. Freaky. “A friend I know can get you inside. In his work he takes great pride.” “A forger he is, and I think you will find, he can make any document look genuine.” “Berefs is his name, and he can be found, living in Foalkreath, on the east end of town.” “Search for him high, search for him low, search for the pony with a coat white as snow.” “Take this trinket, and upon presentation, he will know he can trust you without hesitation.” She slipped a necklace over my head. It had once been a silver amulet, but the silver had cracked and tarnished and the jewel in the center had fallen (or been pried) out. But, if this would get me in with Berefs, I wasn’t going to refuse it. “Thanks for the help,” I said, getting up off the ground. I’d had about enough sing-song riddles for the day. But, as I prepared to leave, I asked her one more question. “If Berefs can get anypony in, how come you’re outside the city?” “Alas, the ponies do not trust our kind, so outside of walls is where we do our living and dying,” she said, her ears drooping. “That’s terrible,” I said. “Perhaps if others of your kind thought the same, we could put to an end our days of shame.” ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ After a thankfully uneventful trot, I made it to Riverwood. Calciar (Bereloth’s father) and Eruthar welcomed me to stay the night. In the morning, I would set out for Foalkreath. There were two ways to Foalkreath from Whitetrot. The shorter one ran through Riverwood and curved around the east side of the mountains dividing the holds. The longer one curved west around Lake Fillynalta. I chose the shorter path. Plus, the upside was that I had somewhere to stay the night on this journey. I munched an apple and some goat cheese out on the Riverwood Trader’s balcony as I watched the sun set over the mountains. As it dropped, I noticed some crumbling ruins on the mountains to the west. How had I missed that before? “What is that?” I asked Eruthar as she joined me on the balcony. “That,” she said, “Is Blank Flanks Barrow.” I knew that my armor covered my rump, but my tail automatically swished in front of it anyway, hiding the shame of my missing cutie-mark. Force of habit, I guessed. Eruthar didn’t seem to notice and she continued to talk. “Legend has it that a long time ago, there used to be another town built right here where Riverwood is. Its name is long forgotten, overshadowed by the name of the one who came from here.” “Calcion the Vengeful,” she shuddered a bit as she said the name, “He was an earth pony who grew up in the village. Unfortunately, he never received his cutie-mark and was shunned from the town.” I felt this pony’s pain. “He grew extremely bitter and hateful toward his former neighbors, and sought to destroy them. In his desperation, he sold his soul to the dragons, gaining great power, but losing the very essence of being a pony. Under the dragons’ protection and influence, he returned to the town and burned it to the ground. Then he erected a fortress above the valley to watch over and make sure no town was ever built here again. Blank Flanks Barrow was his fortress, and later his tomb. He lies entombed there even today.” It was just some old myth ponies had passed down over the years, but still I felt a connection. I too had been ashamed and shunned (but maybe not as strongly) because of my lack of a cutie-mark. But I would never go to extremes and kill the ponies that shunned me, would I? Blowing my pale golden mane out of my eyes, I trotted back into the Riverwood Trader and lay down to sleep. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ Not much took place on my journey to Foalkreath. I encountered a few mudcrabs (which seemed prevalent anywhere in the Northlands where there was water.) They were only a minor annoyance, and easily dealt with. A few slashes from my war axe cut through their shells. As I passed through the woods between Riverwood and Hoofgen, I thought I caught a glimpse of the hunter-pony I had seen the day before. As I began to near Foalkreath, I tried to shoot a deer off in the distance. Apparently their pelts were valuable for smithing and their antlers were valuable for alchemy. It didn’t matter, as I failed to hit the deer. I would have to practice shooting sometime. Axes and swords were fine for close range, but I would prefer to not have my adversaries get too close to me. In no time at all, I found myself in sight of Foalkreath. For a hold capital, I was surprised how small it was. Why, it wasn’t even that much larger than Riverwood. But, unlike Riverwood, there were actually guards atop the walkways running over the path. And guards in Imperial armor at that. Apparently the Empire was serious about keeping this town on their side. Sar’van had said Berefs lived on the east end of town, but I had no idea which house was his. To search him out, I headed to the local tavern, Dead Pony’s Drink. Charming name. It wasn’t hard to locate him within the building. The snow white pony was sitting at a table across a roaring fire. And he was really, really white. Even his mane and tail were pure white, making him stand out among his drab surroundings. “Berefs?” I asked, sliding into the bench across the table from him. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” he asked, draining a tankard of ale. “Um, I guess,” I said, not sure what he was playing at. “That’s a lovely necklace you’ve got there,” he said, pointing at the ruined amulet Sar’van had given me. Now I saw what he was doing. He was letting me know he knew what I wanted without alerting anypony else. He was good. “Wait a bit before following me out,” he whispered to me before rising and leaving the tavern. I was left sitting at the table alone. The tavern was pretty empty, but that was to be expected in the middle of the day. Of course the town drunk wobbled unsteadily across the room and a tough-looking buck stood behind the bar counter. “Can I get you something to drink, stranger?” a strawberry-coated mare asked me. “Oh, no thanks,” I said, “I don’t drink.” “You must just be here for the music then,” she said. I looked across the room to where she was staring. A scruffy-looking buck was holding a lute in his hooves, strumming the strings slowly. He didn’t seem to be particularly good, but he wasn’t terrible either. I figured I’d probably waited long enough and got up to find Berefs. “Here’s a song you’ll probably like,” the minstrel buck said to me as I walked past him. I stopped to listen as he began to sing. “We drink to our youth, for the days come and gone.” “For the Age of Aggression, is just about done.” “We’ll drive out the Stormclouds and restore what we own.” “With our blood and our steel we will take back our home.” “Down with Jarl Stormcloud, the killer of kings.” “On the day of your death we will drink and we’ll sing.” “We’re the true colts of Horizon and we fight all our lives.” “And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies.” The drunk began to slow clap as the minstrel finished his song. I found myself clapping as well. It was a good performance, even I had to admit that. He had a beautiful voice when he sang. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he said, giving a slight bow. Before he could start another song and keep me longer, I exited the Dead Pony’s Drink. As a pony with a wagon full of cabbages clattered by, I looked down the path to the east. I just barely caught a glimpse of Berefs standing outside the farthest house before he ducked inside. The door was unlocked, and I pushed it open to enter the tiny house. Berefs’s dwelling was a small, single room house. A table dominated the center of the room, and past a dead fireplace there was a bed pushed into the corner. “I see you know Sar’van,” I heard Berefs say. I turned to see him sitting in a chair beside the door. “Yes,” I said. “So, why is it she’s sent me to you?” he asked, looking me up and down. “I need summons to see Jarl Valor’s Blade,” I stated bluntly. No use beating around the bush. “The Jarl of Whitetrot!” Berefs said incredulously. “Can you do it?” I asked. “Can I do it?” he said, looking wounded, “You insult me. Of course I can. But for this I’ll need to forge the Jarl’s steward’s signature. Protocus’s signature is not an easy one to forge. It’ll take time. And gold.” I was afraid it would cost me a small fortune of gold to have this done. After all, if Berefs was caught he would either face life in prison, an execution, or a hefty fine I doubted he could pay. But I had a plan to hopefully get out of paying. I hadn’t had to pay Sar’van anything to get this far after all. “Are there any tasks you need done I could do as payment?” I asked. “A trade, huh?” he asked, rubbing his chin, “I suppose there is something I could use help with.” “Yes?” “There’s a pony if Foalkreath who owes me a large sum of money, 200 coins. She refuses to pay up. Maybe you can ‘convince’ her it’s in her best interest to pay.” “I’ll try.” “Her name’s Sunny Skies. She works as assistant to Jarl Sibli. Her house is on the west end of town, but you should be able to find her in the Jarl’s longhouse. I’ll get to work on that summons, and if you get me that money from her, it’s all yours.” “Sounds like a deal,” I said, and left Berefs’s house. How hard could it be to convince Sunny Skies to pay up? I trotted down the path past the patrolling Imperial soldiers to the Jarl’s longhouse. It was much easier to get in to see the Jarl here than in Whitetrot. I entered his residence unhindered. I found Sunny Skies almost immediately, mostly because the Jarl greeted her by name. I stood in the shadows and tried to remain inconspicuous until the Jarl finished his business with her and sent her off. I followed the yellow mare as she entered another room of the Jarl’s longhouse. “Sunny Skies,” I said as I entered the room, interrupting her scribbling in a ledger. “What do you want?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Berefs sent me,” I said, “He said you had a . . . disagreement concerning some gold?” “What do you know about it?” she asked, stiffening. “Well, I know you owe him 200 gold coins, so it was probably something pretty important you had him forge for you. He’d like to be paid for the trouble he went to.” “And what’s he going to do about it? Force me to pay? Call the guards on me? He can’t. He’d be admitting to forgery and they’d throw him in a cell. So you can go back to Berefs and tell him that he won’t try to get his money again or I’ll see to it that he’s arrested.” Disgruntled, I turned to go. I had failed. Looked like I’d either have to pay to get into Whitetrot or I wouldn’t get in at all. As I was about to leave, I noticed something I hadn’t before. Hanging out of Sunny Skies’s cloak was a dull metal amulet. The trinket hanging from the end was shaped like a dragon, the image of Talhooves. It must’ve fallen out during her outburst about Berefs. “That’s a nice necklace you have,” I said, my back to her, “What’s the punishment for Talhooves worship again?” “You wouldn’t,” she said, tucking it back in her cloak as I turned around, “You couldn’t.” “You would,” she said as she saw there was no joke in my eyes. “Fine, take your gold and go,” she said, throwing a coin purse at me, “I don’t want to ever see you again.” Tucking Berefs’s gold in my saddlebags, I left the Jarl’s longhouse. A quick trot later, I was back in Berefs’s house, except that it was empty. I sat down and waited for him to return. As time dragged on, I began to grow impatient with the buck. Just where in Foalkreath could he have gone? I nearly fell off my chair as his wardrobe’s doors opened by themselves. Shortly after, Berefs emerged from among the cloaks. “Done already?” he asked. In reply, I floated the bag of gold over to him. “Well done,” he said, “Your summons should be done within the hour.” Mysteriously, he trotted back into his wardrobe and closed the doors. I really didn’t care what was going on. I was finally going to get into Whitetrot. Level Up Health: 110 Stamina: 110 Magicka: 100 New Perk: Second Best [Light Weapons] -- After staggering an opponent with a power attack, your next strike does double damage. Gear added: Leather Saddlebags -- Carrying capacity is increased by 20. Friendship gained: Sar’van -- Leader of Sar’van’s caravan, Sar’van is a traveling zebra merchant with a wide array of goods for sale and a bounty of contacts across Horizon. Friendship gained: Berefs -- A forger in Foalkreath, Berefs can forge any document needed to get in anywhere. New Quest: For the Jarl’s Ears Only -- Warn Jarl Valor’s Blade about the dragon attack on Hoofgen.