It was a cold evening in the hold of Whiterun, snow had started falling as it was the month of Evening Star, the start of a cold Skyrim winter, something that made the already harsh lands even more unforgiving to those who lived in it.
Although it was cold, it was a quiet and peaceful evening, the only sounds to be heard were the faint howls of wolves in the distance, the cold winds flowing through the grass, and the steps of armoured boots, which seemed to echo on the empty roads with the snow doing little to muffle the sounds the boots made, the night dwelling animals scattered and ran away from the echoing sounds of the footsteps.
These echoing steps were coming from a man wearing full steel plate armour, and although it was the beginning of winter, he wasn't wearing any fur, a strange sight even for Skyrim as even the Natives of this harsh landscape wore thick furs during the winter dispute their natural resistance to the cold
His hot breath can be seen through the gaps of his helmet, with his steel greatsword swaying slightly across his wide back with each slow yet calm step he took, his very presence seemed to increase the cold temperatures of the night.
And as the mysterious man was walking, he gazed up at the night sky with the clouds above high in the sky parting slightly, allowing the man to see the stars, the beautiful constellations were a sight to see here in the cold northern province with many travellers coming to Skyrim just to get a view of the stars.
Removing his gaze once the clouds covered up the stars and their memorising constellations once more, the man paid attention to the roads ahead, covered in a fresh and untouched layer of snow.
While he was walking, he heard the rustling of some bushes a few meters further up the road, when a group of bandits had suddenly walked out onto the road, "If you don't want to die tonight, I suggest you hand over all your valuables." One of the bandits said, trying to intimidate the man.
But when the man did not answer or even acknowledge them as he continued calmly walking forward, the bandits got agitated and decided to attack him. The man who was still calm as can be, didn't stop his walk as the bandits ran at him with their weapons drawn, and once they got close enough, they tried to attack him.
.
Hulda was pouring a drink for some of the guards in the Bannered Mare, upon hearing the door open she turned to see who it was, expecting to see one of her regulars or perhaps a traveller of some kind looking for shelter from the cold, but what she saw scared her to her core.
At the doorway stood a man covered in blood, his steel plate gauntlets and forearms being covered in most of the blood, it was truly an intimidating sight, even for Hulda who was no stranger to blood or the sight of death.
He walked up the bar and took a seat, placing a small leather pouch on the table. Hulda handed the guards their drinks and turned to the man, "What can I get you?" she asked as she took the leather pouch and examined its contents, making sure it was filled with septims and not something else.
"Just some mead and a damp rag." The man said in a muffled voice, curtesy of his helmet. Hulda nodded, grabbing a tankard and a bottle of nord mead, she poured the man his drink and watched the man in front of her as she did so, her eyes filled with both curiosity and suspicion, it's not every day a large man wearing steel plate armour walked into her tavern covered in blood after all.
The man removed his helmet and grabbed the drink, taking a long and hard sip of the warm, rich-flavoured mead. "What's with all the blood?" Hulda asked, reaching for and then handing the man a damp rag, noticing his somewhat youthful yet scarred face, the light stubble on his jaw and upper lip giving him a slightly unkempt look, something that only added to Hulda's suspicion of the man in front of her.
"A small group of bandits tried to attack me, so I beat them to death." He said without any emotion in his voice as he grabbed the rag and started wiping off some of the blood and as soon as the blood was mostly gone, he returned to his drink, taking another sip of the mead as his eyes stared forward blankly.
Hulda went quiet, and after a moment she decided to leave the man to himself, so she went around the table to serve the other patrons in the tavern who paid the man no mind, rather deciding to focus on their own business, be it conversations with their companions or their own thoughts and drink, except for one.
"So, what if you killed a few pathetic bandits, I bet I could beat you in a brawl." An arrogant woman said as she walked up to him, seeming annoyed at the man for an unknown reason, more likely than not his apparent age and early statement of killing bandits with his bare hands.
He simply ignored her and continued drinking his mead, "What, you too scared to fight me?" The woman said in an arrogant tone, she was clearly trying to aggravate the man. "No, you are just not worth my time or attention." The man said as he asked Hulda for another drink.
The woman snarled, "A 100 septims says otherwise." She said as she threw a leather pouch on the table, the man looked at the pouch and then stood up. Being about 20cm taller than she was, he looked down at her, "Alright then." He said as he raised his hands, the woman doing the same.
She was the first to throw a punch, but it was blocked by the man, who countered with a punch of his own. The woman tried to block, but the punch broke her guard, and another punch soon hit her in the face, causing her to stumble back and fall down.
She growled angrily as she got up and attempted to throw another punch but was instead hit in the gut by the man, the punch indenting her own steel plate armour. Falling to her knees with a groan, she looked up only to hit in the face again. Falling to the floor, the man just looked at her with an unfaltering and emotionless expression, "As I said, you are not worth my time." He said as he grabbed the pouch and sat back down, returning to his drink without a care in the world of the stares he was getting.
.
"Would you like a room for the night?" Hulda asked as the man finished his fourth drink. "Yes." The man said as he put 10 septims into Huldas open palm. "Alright then, let me show you to your room." Hulda said after she counted and pocketed the gold and walked around the table.
The man stood up from his seat, grabbing his helmet off the table he followed her to a small staircase, walking up its stairs Hulda opened a door and walked in, "Here you are, if you need anything just call for me." Hulda said as she made her leave, she still had other patrons to serve and wanted to get away from the man.
The man just nodded his head as he sat down on the bed and started striping himself of his armour, taking off his boots and gauntlets before removing his cuirass. Once all his armour was off and he was left in his padded under-armour, the man laid down on bed. Staring at the ceiling, the man closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless yet welcome slumber.