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The journey to Skyrim was difficult. I stayed off the roads to avoid being seen, and that worked well at first. The plains and forests north of the Imperial City were easy to navigate, and their fauna didn't pose much of a threat to anyone with a sword and the knowledge to use it. At night, I'd camp in small caves or Ayleid ruins, undisturbed. As I approached Bruma however, the air grew cold. The supplies Kexu had given me were of good quality, I wore a thick fur coat and gloves, and my snout was covered by a wool mask. Even my tail was protected by some sort of fur sock that Kexu had gotten from who knows where. But despite all of this, I felt cold. As the wind blew from the north through the Jerall Mountains, I had to take regular breaks to keep from freezing to death. The terrain was covered with thick snow, slowing my progress and eventually forcing me back on the road. Fortunately, there were few travellers. Skyrim's civil war had brought almost all trade with the Empire to a halt, and winter was almost upon us, making the passes through the mountains dangerous. The climb was difficult, with blizzards reducing visibility to the point where it seemed as if I was walking in a white void.

A blizzard forced me to spend three days in the abandoned ruins of a fort. I was soon joined by a Khajiit caravan coming down from the montains on their way to Bruma. They were friendly, and invited me to share their fire with them. For the first time in years, I was able to enjoy the simple happiness of companionship. They told stories of their country and their travels with a contagious enthusiasm, that made me envious of their free nomadic life. I think they understood my unwillingness or inability to talk about my past and didn't ask, for which I was grateful. Though they didn't say it out loud, they also guessed that I wanted to avoid the authorities, and told me of a cave that crossed the mountains into Skyrim past the fortress overlooking the Pale Pass, "just in case". When the blizzard finally passed, we wished each other a safe journey, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a pang of sadness in my heart as they headed south.

I continued my ascent through ice and snow for several days until I reached the entrance to the cave the Khajiits had told me about. It took me several hours to find it, but it was worth the detour, as it would have been impossible to cross the Pale Pass unnoticed. The cave was very long, full of goblins and smugglers, none of whom were happy to see me there. I avoided them when I could, and fought them when I couldn't, leaving a bloody trail of corpses in my wake. It took a full day to reach the other side, but when I did, I had finally reached Skyrim.

My map indicated that the nearest settlement was Helgen, but I planned to avoid it and instead follow the road through Ivarstead and from there to Windhelm. It would be a journey of about two weeks, hopefully without too much trouble. I walked the Pale Pass road for two days until I approached Helgen, where I cut through the forest until I reached the road to Ivarstead. After five days I reached Ivarstead, which, like Helgen, I avoided by going round it. I followed the river further down, out of sight of the village. The climate in this area was warmer than I had expected and I was finally able to switch back to lighter clothing, which made the journey easier.

I knew the river would go all the way to Windhelm, so I decided to stay close to it rather than return to the road. It would be more discreet that way, and it felt good to have clean water on my scales again. The waterways of the Imperial City were polluted with all sorts of debris and chemicals, and were not suitable for any form of swimming. This river, on the other hand, was pure and the water, though cold, felt absolutely amazing. Bathing in it would wash away not only the dirt but also the tiredness. It was also full of fish, delicious both raw and cooked. If it hadn't been for my rucksack, I probably would have swum in it all the way. But I didn't want to get the furs wet, as I suspected I'd need them again soon.

On the evening of the fourth day since I had passed Ivarstead, I arrived at a miners' camp built along the river, near a large plain covered with hot springs and geysers. It seemed sparsely populated, and I estimated that the risk of an agent being stationed in such an isolated place was low, so I decided to go in and barter for some supplies. The miners were quite friendly and welcomed me in. It was late afternoon and most of them had gone home, so I didn't have many people to trade with. I set up camp just north of the mine and pitched my tent near a hot spring. The hot water brought me to a state of relaxation I hadn't reached in a long time, and I stayed in it for hours.

Eventually night began to fall, so I got out, got dressed and started to pitch my tent. I had just finished building the fireplace when a large group of men on horseback appeared from the miners' camp. It consisted of a dozen soldiers in armour, who seemed to be escorting a large Nord in a fur-trimmed cloak. The rider at the front separated from the group and approached me. He spoke to me in an authoritative tone, his left hand resting on the hilt of the sword hanging at his side. My own blades were leaning against the tent within reach.

"Who are you, lizard ?" he said aggressively, stopping his horse just in front of me.

I didn't like his tone, especially the patronizing way he said the last word. Were he alone, I might have acted rashly, but I didn't want to make a scene when the whole purpose of my journey was to keep a low profile.

"Just a traveller seeking my fortune." I replied, in my most neutral tone

"You will find none here. Your kind is not welcome in our lands."

"So it seems." I replied with a sigh. "I have no intention of disturbing the peace, if that's your concern."

"Begone, lizard," he replied, the aggressiveness in his voice growing, "you do not belong here."

"I belong where I please, and right now that is where I stand. Be on your way, Nord, I have no quarrel with you."

He gave me a dirty look and got off his horse. He walked up to me and put his face very close to mine, trying to bully me into submission. When he saw that I was unfased by his gaze, he clenched his right fist and tried to punch me in the stomach. I saw the blow coming and, with a quick sidestep, avoided it and used his momentum to push him away from me, sending him tumbling forward. He recovered and turned to face me. I held my hands up and spoke.

"I have no intention of fighting you. But know that if you attack me, I will defend myself, as is my right."

He gave an angry groan and walked towards me in a hostile manner, his hands raised in a brawler's stance. With a sigh, I took up my fighting stance. But before he came within range, a shout came from the rest of the convoy.

"Enough!" said a strong and authoritative deep voice. "Jofen, leave the damn lizard alone and get back on your horse, we don't have time for this. You'll have your fun when we get home."

The man froze and reluctantly lowered his guard before stepping back to his horse with a look of disdain for me on his face.

"As you wish, Jarl Ulfric."

Jarl Ulfric. I had heard that name before. He was the leader of the rebel faction currently at war with the Empire. It was truly unfortunate that I had met him by chance, I would have kept my distance from such an important person. Wherever they went, there would be a legion of spies following them. But fate seemed to have other plans for me. I looked at the man. He was obviously a Nord, tall and thick. He had well-groomed blond hair and a natural aura of authority and charisma about him. On his belt was a one-handed axe. It was not a monstrosity of gold and precious gems like the weapons nobles usually carried. It was a simple axe, obviously well cared for and sharp. A weapon fit for a warrior, not a petty noble. He looked at me with contempt, as if I were a pile of dirt, and turned his head, ostentatiously ignoring me. His man climbed back on his horse, and after one last dark look at me, turned around and began to ride forward towards his Jarl like a dog towards its master.

The horse had barely taken a few steps when I heard a distinctive whistle in the air and an arrow flew right past my head. It lodged in the head of the man's horse, killing it instantly and causing the man to fall to the ground alongside his mount. Before the convoy had time to recover from their surprise, a new volley of arrows flew from all directions. I dropped to the ground, just in time to avoid one aimed at my head. The others were aimed at the convoy, killing or wounding several soldiers. The men began to shout cries of alarm and closed ranks around their leader to protect him with their shields. I quickly went back to my tent and grabbed my swords. As I did so, I looked around, trying to spot the attackers. Hidden behind trees and bushes, I saw them, the light archers of the Imperial Legion. Damn that idiot Nord ! I had been so focused on him and his antics that I had not noticed the Imperials sneaking up on us. I unsheathed my blades, just in time to hear a loud voice shouting an order from one of the trees.

"Aim for the horses! We need Ulfric alive!"

Another volley was fired, and the disorganised men all fell to the ground, including the Jarl, as their mounts were pierced by arrows. They rose to their feet, and with a few commands from their leader, formed a shield wall. A loud horn sounded and the ground shook as the Imperials launched a cavalry charge. The riders appeared from the north, mounted on large warhorses adorned in the Empire's distinctive red colours. They headed straight for the Nords, except for two who charged straight for me, blades raised. They were on me in the blink of an eye, their swords coming down upon me. I narrowly avoided the first and blocked the second with my left saber. The impact was so strong that it hurt my arm and knocked me to the ground. The two riders circled around and resumed their attack from opposite directions. I quickly got to my feet and turned to face the one closest to me. When I was in range, he attempted a vertical strike, which I dodged by jumping to the side. I turned to face his companion and saw with horror that he was already upon me. My jump had put me directly in the path of his horse, and time seemed to slow as I realised that it was too late to do anything about it. The animal crashed into me at full speed, sending me flying. I hit the ground hard, pain radiating from the side of my head as I slipped into unconsciousness.