Valrona looked around at what was left of the great city of Helgen. The dragon had basically destroyed the poor town to the ground. That was about a week ago. She looked around as she nailed up another board down on the floor of her shop. She was to be soon finished repairing her shop back to working order. Yang walked up to her licking her cheek making her smile. "Good girl." She said smiling. Yang was her best friend and a damn good hunter. As she finished with the floor, she stood up and opened her shop door to look around the town square. She wondered what everyone else was doing to fix up the place. She knew that once more of the place was secure, she would gather people up to probably go on a quest. She hoped it would be sooner or later. She could feel herself starting to go stir crazy. Yang sat down in front of her looking around and sniffing the air. Yang has been a bit shook up ever since the attack. Valrona ran her hands in between her ears to help her relax.

Wolfgang Vestenheimer paid the builders from Falkreath the final amount of money that was owed for the construction of the new headquarters for his new holy order, which he made a mental note that he still needed to come up with a name for. Wolfgang turned to gaze at the building, it was a wood and stone building that was small compared to the churches in the main holds of skyrim or the monasteries of cyrodiil, but it was nonetheless an impressive sight considering what it was and also not to mention in comparison to the rather decimated landscape left by the dragon Alduin. Wolfgang pulled a silver flask off his belt and sprinkled some holy water around the outsides and as well as inside the building, ensuring its divine protection from the Gods.

The smell of freshly cut wood hit Ardashir's nostrils a moment before he saw a nordic lumberjack bring his axe down on another piece of wood. The argonian had just scored a kill in the woods of Falkreath and was on his way back to Helgen. The town which had been destroyed by Alduin was still recovering, the rebuilding going slowly as a result of the civil war and dragon attacks. It was good to see new construction, especially when it came to buildings which might attract pilgrims and other visitors. The more traffic Helgen got, the faster it would recover.

Careful not to step on any of the splinters which littered the ground, Ardashir carefully made his way past the holy site under construction. While some Argonians in this land used footwear, his tribe never bothered with it. Then again, this wasn't Black Marsh. The often-cold weather sometimes made him regret coming here, but he knew that he had no choice. It was warm enough for now, and he had to get this deer sold for its meat and hide. Then, he might have enough coins for an extra drink tonight, preferably by the fireplace of the town's inn.

A week ago the dragon Alduin attacked Helgen, bringing death and destruction. The news of the return of the dragonkind, previously held to be fantasy creatures in tales, rippled swiftly through Skyrim. Felix, a young novice adventurer, packed his belongings and left Riverwood for Helgen immediately upon learning the event. The journey proved far more time-consuming than it should have been, with bandits, wolves and the temptation of treasure from caves dragging Felix behind.

When he finally arrived he found Helgen feebly recovering from the catastrophe, with the townspeople busy rebuilding their homes and shops. A female elf opened the door of a shop, which appeared to be an average general store just repaired. Felix decided to give it a try. He needed information, friends, materials, food and rest.

"Hi. Is this your shop?" He couldn't think of any novel way of starting a conversation, thus the dull question for the elf.

Casimer Demetrius-Kahn - Helgen

His exhaustion hung in the air, forming anew with each coughed up breath.

Perspiration clung to his skin despite the bitter chill; the stench permeated the air. But his swollen muscles still strained themselves to retrace the same arc, commencing each revision with a huff and ending with the distinct clatter of metal on metal. Too proud to have asked for help, his entire frame heaved with exertion at completion; tired hands dropped the hammer he’d guided with expert precision. He took a careful step back across the length of wood he stood on and examined his handiwork: it was a start. Having spent the largest part of the week since the attack re-establishing the wooden beams that had, at one stage, supported the non-existent roofing, he moved to reinforcing the construction with steel:

Whilst not an intended part of the initial design, Casimer had decided the times demanded it nonetheless. His house - no, his home - for the last quarter of a century had been decimated in the attack: the roof had collapsed beneath the intense weight of the beast, and with that the first floor had been wrecked; the interior, otherwise, had been gutted with fire. The walls, thank the gods, had been saved the devastation he had witnessed enacted on other buildings.

With slow, purposeful, painful movements, he descendant the ladder he had established to the ground floor. Beneath his feet was the entrance to his former basement-cum-storeroom, now basement-cum-storeroom-cum-entire living area; entrance covered with a reinforced steel trapdoor, as to deter thieves during a time when he had an actual business, it had been left unaffected by the attack. It was his home now - it had to be, or he would be left to sleep in the open air. But he stepped across that space, and to the door; drained beyond the capabilities to think, mind disorientated and lacking focus, he huffed down the fresh, Northern air, with the same sort of enthusiasm he might have afforded to a breath that was his last.

Cedus finished the last blade he'd need to sell to a store. It was a dagger, a beautiful thing. He would probably charge less than it was worth. His whole goal was to help the town. As soon as he got here, he'd found an anvil and got to work. Cedus admired the dagger before placing it in his pack. Satisfied, he walked into the inn and bought a night's stay.

Jo’marash was walking through the woods on his way back to Helgen. He had been searching for new ingredients and was now on his way home to see what he could do with them. As he entered the gates he saw the beginnings of a new Helgen. He could hear to tools of the workers and the hammer of the blacksmith. A warrior from Cyrodil had built a big stone building and a local wood elf had opened a general store, and then he came to his own shop. A small wooden building that was far from finished, he didn’t have the time to build it himself and he didn’t have the coin to hire someone to do it for him. When he entered he was met by the pleasant (at least to him) smell of Khajiit cooking. He sat down at the table and started browsing through his books looking for info on the ingredients he had found.

Corinth whistles a tune as he heads into Helgen. He looks around and finds a spot perfect for farming. Setting down the handles of the wagon he drops his sack and starts rummaging through it. "I have that deed here somewhere... Aha! There it is." He pulls out a paper and reads it again. "One property deed for Helgen.. So long as we man guard house and make a farm... I can do that easily. Made them back home..." Putting the paper away, Corinth takes his greataxe and straps it to his back, then heads off to look at the inn to get some information on the newly rebuilding town.

@LChris314

Valrona smiled as a male Nord walked up to her asking if this was her store. "Yes. Welcome to the Helgen General Store. Come on in. I am sure I have what you are looking for." She said as Yang sniffed him wagging her tail. "My name is Valrona and this is Yang." She said as she held the door open for him to show him the supplies she had. Along the walls there was shelves with different types of food, books, small weapons, arrows, and pretty much anything else someone could need.

Helena swept rubble off the porch of the mostly rebuilt Helgen Inn. The rooms were rebuilt, except a few holes that needed patching up. The ground had many burn marks and cracks. Other than these imperfections she was open and ready for business. A room was cheap, but she warned wanderers that her prices would go up when the city was rebuilt. People walking around the slightly repaired Helgen brought a smile to her face as she swept.

Corinth walks up the woman in front of the inn. "Hello there, friend. I have been sent by Jarl Balgruff to aid in protection of the town. I was wondering what you could tell me of the place." He smiles, giving a wave. "The name is Corinth. Corinth Frozen-Hammer."

Ardashir got a good price for the stag he had brought down, and sure enough, had sufficient coin to spare for an extra round at the inn. He went there, careful with his tail as he negotiated his way through the crowd. He smiled slightly, happy that Helgen once again had crowds at all.

He entered the inn and looked around, seeing if there was anyone he recognized.

@GrizzTheMauler

"Hello, Corinth, my name is Helena and I own this inn," Helena introduced. She let the broom lean against the wall and held out her hand for a handshake. "This is Helgen. It was attacked by a dragon a week ago, during an execution. A group of us has gotten together to help rebuild the city to its former glory." She saw a new customer enter and decided it would be a good time to reenter the inn. "If you need a place to stay, my inn is very affordable, especially in the current conditions. Once the city is rebuilt, the prices will rise some, but rooms are a steal now." With that, Helena went back in to Her inn.

@Aristocles

Helena found Ardashir and smiled at him, remembering him from his earlier rounds. "Sorry, we just have the basic ales for now," she reminded him, now standing behind the counter. As far as food went, the prices were about the same as any other inn.

"Alright, Helen. Just one basic ale." He sighed, setting the coins down. Whiterun had a supply of fine argonian ale, but that was quite a walk from Helgen. He wasn't a fan of the roads in Skyrim. Too cold and hard on his scales. Not nearly warm, soft, or wet enough. Still, he gave a smile as she set the drink down on the counter.

"Thanks." He took a sip of the drink, and looked around the inn, hoping to find some new faces. His hunting could only take him so far. There were several ruins nearby, and he wanted to see what could be found in them.

"No problem," Helena said and took the gold. She put it into a pouch attached to get waist, very close to the concealed dagger. Everything was running smoothly. The Helgen Inn currently only had six operating rooms, not all occupied, but the travellers that came through supplied good gold, even though she didn't have too much to offer. Many people wanted to see the damage the dragon had caused, so it was a good tourist attraction.

Several of the guests gave Ardashir a dirty look. Part of it was bias against argonians, but he had a feeling that it was partially to do with fear of dragons. The physical resemblance between the two races was likely coincidental; the dov were believed to be a race of fallen aedra while argonians were probably descendants of lizards who had ingested hist sap. A few nords looked like they would give him a hard time, but seeing as he was armed with a dagger and possessed claws, they thought better of it. The jarl of Falkreath Hold wasn't too keen on having so many outsiders move to Helgen, but the town had to be repopulated somehow.

Corinth heads out, noting to come back to the inn for information, or at least some mead. He walks over to the Keep amd unlocks the door with the key he was given. He steps inside and coughs at the sheer amount of dust that wafts out. "By Talos.." He enters and looks around to see where he'll be working for a while, until they get some guards willing to stay here. "No doubt I'll have to lead them..." He cleans up a bit and heads out to his cart, moving stuff into the Keep.

It appears that the root he had collected was a Canis root and it could strengthen your skills with the bow. But none of his other ingredients had a matching effect. He continued reading his book, looking for something fairly common with the same effect. Juniper berries. That was what he needed. He stepped out of his shop and started walking towards the general store. “Greetings! This one sells alchemical ingredients, yes?”

@Vlerchan
Rapped his knuckles against the door of one of his few friends in this destroyed town. Casimer was an ex-soldier, just like he was, and that type of camaraderie bonds people who otherwise wouldn't have reason to associate with one another. Not to say Casimer wasn't interesting to be around. They had shared a few stories about their past life with one another. With no real skills other than fighting against those damn Stormcloaks and his small memory of farming as a child, Illium had been using his strength to assist the town rebuild. Even now he had a delivery of steel directly from the blacksmith for Casimer's house.

"Casimer? You here? I've got that metal you asked for!"

Illium glanced back towards the cart. Across the way he could see a few people he couldn't recall entering Helena's inn. With no reply yet to his question regarding his delivery, he figured he'd call out one last time to make sure he wasn't just running away while Casi was still working.

"There are some newcomers over at Helena's, have you heard anything about the Jarl sending supplies or help?"

Casimer Demetrius-Kahn - Helgen

Still panting somewhat from his earlier exertion, Casimer had returned inside when the worst of it had passed but a moment earlier. Nevertheless, his first response was lost to a dry wheeze of exhaustion; the sound caught in his throat before it could part. The second was more successful.

"One moment, one moment."

The voice that emerged was deep, guttural - and tired. Illium knew, from earlier encounters, that while this ex-soldier could be short, coarse, and indignant when it came to discussions of the current civil war, a genuine good-nature lurked beneath. When the door swung open it was a moment or two later than promised: a depleted-looking Casimer was revealed. The shirt he wore was patched with sweat; perspiration danced above his eyebrows as he exchanged a haggard look for one more cheerful and endearing. He passed his gaze first to the other man, and then to the steel; his smile widened; broad-set, yellowed teeth appeared to greet Illium.

"Capital!" Then a pause, before: "Thank you, friend."

Looking past Casimer, Illium would find that the house's interior looked like a construction site: tools were scattered across the floor, there was a bucket of cement-like material in the corner; metal, leftover from earlier deliveries, was stacked in a small, neat pile of the center of the room. But with little care for the state of his home, the Imperial pondered the other's question. He narrowed his gaze in the direction of Helena's; his brow furrowed as he spied the character at the step of the inn.

"Those're just travelers, I imagine. Gods know why they'd be passin' through with all that happened.

Heard no word about the Jarl's men or their supplies, anyways. Starting to think we won't see a thing, being honest."