How to Pickpocket a Pickpocket

Chapter 5

Artis fell in the road bright and early the next morning. She basically just woke up, took a bath to scrub of the previous day's dirt and ate breakfast before she left. Her mother packed her a bag and stuffed it with food, while her father made sure she got a new bow and quiver from Alvor, Hadvar's uncle. By the time Artis was outside Riverwood, she was clothed in her spare leather armor (which wasn't as comfortable as she remembered) and carried her new ebony sword, her new hunting bow as well as a steel dagger her mother shoved into her hands.

The road to Whiterun wasn't long nor dangerous at all. She found the usual on the path; wolves, farmers and Thalmor soldiers escorting a poor man to some treacherous fate. She remembered passing the guardian stones a short distance outside of the town. She never really took notice in them, but since she had learned her first spell, she was curios and fascinated at what magic could do. So, she stood in front of the mage stone and waited, waited until a glowing blue light erupted from the stone and her body absorbed it. Immediately she made the flames appear in her left hand, finding that it was easier to activate now.

It was almost noon when Artis reached Whiterun. The guards, knowing her face, let her through without any questions. She felt at home in the familiar streets and seeing all the familiar faces. The welcoming sound of the Warmaiden's blacksmith rang in her ear, the sweet smell of Honningbrew mead played in her nostrils and as she passed the Bannered Mare on her way to Dragonsreach, the aroma of venison stew and pie made her mouth water. She once swore that if she could buy any house in all of Skyrim, she'd buy Whiterun's Breezehome. It was close to the marketplace and the first house you saw when you entered the city. It was part of all the action and that was what she liked about it.

"State your business." The guard outside the jarl's house ordered.

"Rikon, really?" she smiled when she recognized him underneath his helmet, "You know me, and you also know I won't try anything stupid."

Rikon slouched slightly, dropping the formalities, "It's just my job, Artis. I apologize, please, go ahead."

She saluted him casually and entered the large castle-like house. Seemed like it was a good thing that she took the time to get to know the usual guards – and to challenge them in drinking and sword fighting competitions. Otherwise she would've been shoed off like any other normal pedestrian would be. Dragonsreach was even bigger inside than outside – and fancy decorated as well. As she walked on the red carpet towards the jarl's throne, she noticed the two maids sweeping floors on either side of her, the tall table of food in the center of the room and all the guards patrolling the main hall. Jarl Balgruuf sat wide legged and outstretched on his throne, head resting on one hand while the other one was casually placed on the armrest. Artis' view of him was blocked when a Dark Elf placed herself between the jarl and her.

"State your business or leave." She ordered sternly, "The jarl should not be bothered."

"I bring news from Riverwood." Artis answered, "A dragon attacked Helgen and Riverwood needs protection."

The Dunmer's eyebrows rose even higher, "A dragon? Alright, the jarl would wish to speak with you."

Artis climbed the three steps and approached the jarl cautiously. She has never met him before and had no idea how he would react to seeing her. His eyes met hers and he studied her up and down, probably judging, probably wondering, she would never know.

"So, a dragon attacked Helgen?" Balgruuf suddenly spoke, sounding surprisingly decent and friendly.

"Yes, sir." Artis nodded, "Burned it to the ground. There's nothing left."

"And how do you know about this?"

She sighed deeply, "Because I was there. I was captured by Imperial soldiers and sentenced to death. Before my head was cut off, a dragon appeared out of the sky and burned everything down. I was lucky to have survived."