Skyrim - Beyond Whiterun

Whiterun is just as I left it - desperately cold and wet, and in need of a bit of colour. I'd have thought that the dragon fight just outside the city walls would have added a splash of red, but I get the impression that the Jarl would have asked for it to have been cleaned off. I really shouldn't be so down on him actually, as soon as I meet up with him he is overjoyed to see me. He seems to attribute the death of the dragon on his doorstep as solely down to me. The others in the room don't seem happy about me taking all the glory, but say nothing. The Jarl decides that I am to be rewarded, and he bestows the title of Thane of Whiterun upon me. Guards will no longer harass me in the streets (though they didn't do this before) and I'm also given a Protector.

She is a warrior, and beautiful to boot. There is clearly an attraction between us. Maybe its my chiselled chin and piercing eyes? Regardless, my faith in Faendal shall not be swayed - he has proven too erstwhile an ally to give up so flippantly for the next sword-for-hire.

My next quest is to make my way south, to the "Throat of the World" to speak with some monks. According to ol' Jarl, they're the ones who made the funny noise which spooked everyone earlier. They will be able to test to see whether I am this "dragonborn" which has been mentioned. They live in a commune at the top of a mountain, but I must first go to the town at the foot of the mountain called Ivarstead. Leaving Whiterun behind, I notice that Faendal seems to have vanished. "Oh well" I think "Maybe he's gotten lost" He'll find me again.

Travelling down the road from Whiterun, I spot a figure in the distance. Is this Faendal I wonder? As I near him, I notice the man is dressed in black and carrying two large swords. "It can't be!" he loudly exclaims as he spots me, before yelling and trying to plow both pieces of metal into my incredible torso. Slashing away at me, I make expert hacks at him with my trusty imperial sword, all the while trying to burn him with some fire magic. Nevertheless, he drops at my feet.

I search the body, and find that he was an assassin sent by the Dark Brotherhood to kill me. Apparently someone doesn't want me alive. Who this person is, I have no idea - I have been nothing but caring to the people of Skyrim since escaping the imperial axeman a few days before.

The rest of my journey happens quickly, despite the long distance covered, and I soon find myself in the little town of Ivarstead. A man warns me about the nearby burial mound, where ghosts are seen at night. My hubris obviously leads me straight in - this one seems tiny in comparison to the Bleak Barrows of earlier days, and luckily for me it is. Working my way down through the laze of the mound, I put down a number of the undead before finding a "phantom" running around seemingly dressed in fur armour. Once more fire and steel come to my rescue, and the "phantom" drops dead. Literally, it was a man pretending to be a ghost. He seems to have downed a potion which gave the impression of ghostliness… Regardless, where he was pretending to be dead and now really is. Dead. I snort at the idiot, and make my way back above ground to be with the living.