I had business in Riverwood. This was a town with which I was most familiar. In my first day of arrival I helped a fledgling couple continue their romance undisturbed by another suitor, later I would return a stolen gold claw to the rightful owners. The people of Riverwood knew me. This was the town where I felt most at home.
This was the town where I first met Alvor.
Alvor made his trade in Riverwood as a Smith. His wages helped care for his daughter Dorthe along with the help of his wife Sigrid. Alvor was a generous man. Without even considering the notion of payment he taught me the basics of Armour and Weapon Crafting. From then, whenever I would return my first stop was with Alvor. He would help me unload trinkets that I had amassed during my travels. I could have gone to the Riverwood Trader, they had a larger amount of coin available, but the proprietor Lucan Valerius was not nearly as much of a friend. Alvor and I had history. Under his watch I became better at creating new items, my skill increasing with each attempt; itís with his help that I now adventure in Elven armour made by my own hand. When I would run low on crafting supplies I would buy them from him, when I could not afford them I would steal what I needed from the workshop and he would never note that anything had gone missing. Even when I would sell back items crafted with his personal iron bars, he would not ask me the origin of the materials. It seemed that my studies were more important.
Alvor was a good man.
My business in Riverwood had me visiting the Sleeping Giant Inn, I needed to have a private conversation with one of the owners. My return was not the pleasant affair I had anticipated. I considered sweetrolls and blackbriar mead; A collection of my friends that had been eagerly anticipating my homecoming.
The town was being besieged by a Dragon. Riverwood was not prepared. Children remained in the street; too few with combat experience were present to guard. Alvor met my side without a word brandishing an incredible sword. Valiantly, together, we tried to hold the dragonís attention while the rest of the town got to safety. Everyone rushed to their houses and locked the doors.
We were the Dragonís targets now. His frosty breath cooled the air and made attacking that much harder, that much more of a struggle. Ater a fierce battle I landed a final blow and the Dragon keeled over as its flesh burned away. The Dragon was reduced to Bone, I was overcome with joy. I called out in triumph. I was not met with an answer.
Alvorís corpse lay hardly any distance from the Dragonís. He had used his life to ensure the safety of his familyís. His memory will be celebrated by those who knew him and shared with those that did not. Songs will be crafted by bards and glasses will be lifted in his honour.
Alvor was a good man.