The Elder Scrolls: The Mundus Crisis

The Mercenaries

  The inn was worn down and old, withered by the elements, but it withstood even the worst of storms. From outside there was a faint glow of a warm fire, dancing on the windows. The snow was thick on the ground and blanketed the roof of the inn. Strong winds howled as the blizzard blew ferociously. The moon barely visible behind the black mass of clouds.

  The creaky door opened, as three individuals walked into the inn. Ice frosted the beards and fur of the group. The innkeeper walked out from the back room and greeted them.

  "Welcome weary travelers!" The keep said. "Come, warm yourself by the fire."

  The group did as the keep said. The first to remove his ancient Nord horned helmet was an Imperial. He removed his gauntlets and warmed his hands in the heat. He rustled his short brown hair.

  The Imperial was followed by a large Nord, who removed his steel plate winged helm and steel plated gauntlets. He had a silver blond beard with shoulder length hair. He wore a snarl and scars marred his face.

  Next was a female Nord. Pretty in the face and built almost as large as her male counter part. She removed her Nordic carved bear helm and Nordic carved gauntlets. Her fiery red hair fell down like a scarlet waterfall. She had stern, piercing blue eyes.

  The keeper walked up the the group and asked them if they wanted anything. The Nords ordered pints of ale and the Imperial ordered a Black-Briar wine.

  The balding keep brought the drinks and a few fruits and sweet cakes. He sat them down on a side table as the mercenaries drank and ate.

  "You must be mad to walk in a blizzard like this." The keep said. "Where are you headed?"

  "Our services were bought to help the people of Riften. We come from Falkreath." The Imperial stated. "Something about a were-bear, if you can believe it."

  "Remarkable!" Exclaimed the keeper. "I'm sure you three have heroing tales. If you wouldn't mind regaling an old man?"

  "Sit elder." The Nordman said. He began to tell stories of the past. Magni was quite the storyteller especially if there was a fire involved.

  After a few tall tales the three paid for rooms and drifted off to sleep. They awoke the next morning and dawned their armor once more. They thanked the innkeeper for his hospitality and started on their journey once again.

  The blizzard had ended during the night and left a white canvas before them. Untrodden by man or beast the fresh fallen snow was a blanket of shining crystals in the morning sunlight.  Birds sang as they flew in the sky and there was a light creaking of the trees.

  "Best be off." Magni grunted lifting the bag strap over his shoulder. They stepped of the porch and headed down the road. The trip was short as they neared the City of Thieves. The snow was nearly gone and the trees of the Rift were now many shades of red, orange and yellow. They had to fend off a pack of wolves and a few spiders but no Were-bears.

  The stone walls of the city came into view. The Mercenaries walked around to the front gate and approached the guard.

  "Halt!" The guard shouted. "Before I can let you enter, you must pay the visitor's tax."

  "Magni, have you heard of the visitor's tax before?" The Imperial asked.

  "No sir." The Nord male answers and a gruff voice.

  "What's the tax for?" Asked Njori. She raised a brow at the little guard.

  "For the privilege of entering the fine city Riften, of course!" The guard's voice raised as if he were offended for them questioning.