"I told you, I can handle it! Even if Kabala and his friends came at me together, I wouldn't lose!"
"You absolutely cannot. I've already said it. No adventuring. No chasing thieves. End of discussion."
"Then what's your plan? We just let it go?"
"I said I'll handle it. That's final."
Rowan stepped into the trading post to the sound of raised voices.
Behind the counter stood a broad-shouldered man in his forties with tired eyes and a stubborn expression. Across from him was Camilla, arms crossed, jaw set.
The moment they noticed Rowan, both of them stopped.
"A customer," the man said quickly, smoothing his expression.
Camilla blinked in surprise.
"It's you. From last night. Are you here to buy something?"
Rowan smiled faintly.
"Not exactly. I'm an adventurer. I heard at the inn that something valuable was stolen from this shop. I wanted to ask if you're looking for help."
Camilla stared at him.
Then she covered her mouth.
A very undignified snort escaped.
"Y-you're an adventurer?"
She wasn't trying to be cruel. She simply couldn't reconcile the word with what she was seeing.
No armor.
No weapon.
Simple clothes.
Slim build.
She had seen real adventurers before. Riverwood sat close enough to major roads, and she had traveled with her brother to larger cities. The difference was obvious.
Rowan didn't take offense.
The man behind the counter studied him more carefully.
"My name is Lucan Valerius," he said at last. "If you truly want the job, it saves me the trouble of posting a notice."
Lucan had built this trading post from nothing and raised his sister on his own. He wasn't foolish enough to judge people purely by appearances.
Some of the most dangerous beings in the world didn't look dangerous at all.
Mages.
Werewolves.
Vampires.
Wanderers who carried power quietly.
Or maybe Rowan was exactly what he looked like.
A young man chasing an unrealistic dream.
Either way, Lucan didn't feel obligated to protect him from his own choices.
"The item that was stolen is a golden claw," Lucan said. "About the size of your palm. I'm fairly certain it's now in the hands of bandits near Bleak Falls Barrow."
Rowan nodded.
"If you recover it, I'll pay you three thousand septims."
"That works for me."
Rowan agreed instantly.
Camilla spun on her brother.
"Are you insane? He can't do this! You'll get him killed!"
Lucan spread his hands.
"He volunteered. And now you don't need to risk going yourself."
Camilla bit her lip.
"Fine. Then I'll at least guide him to the trailhead. He probably doesn't even know where the path starts."
Lucan gave her a hard look.
"You go no farther than the bridge. Understood?"
Camilla scowled but nodded.
Outside the shop, she turned to Rowan, clearly agitated.
"I'm going to be blunt. You should drop this job."
Rowan tilted his head.
"Why?"
"Bleak Falls Barrow isn't just dangerous. Bandits guard the outside. Inside are walking corpses and deadly traps. I've never heard of anyone going in and coming back alive."
She gestured at him.
"You don't look strong. You don't look prepared. You'll freeze on the mountain or get eaten by wolves before you even reach the entrance."
Rowan considered her words.
Then asked, genuinely curious, "If you know all that… why were you arguing with your brother about going yourself?"
Camilla's face reddened.
"I wasn't serious about going alone. I was trying to pressure him into hiring real mercenaries from Whiterun. The Companions. If they clear out the bandits, I might even get a chance to apply."
That made sense.
Ambition wrapped in youthful impatience.
Rowan smiled slightly.
"I appreciate the concern. But I have a little confidence in myself."
Camilla studied him for several seconds.
Then she sighed.
"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."