An interesting turn of events over the last few days, if I must say so myself.
I bested the bandits of Knife Point Cave, with a little help from a caged sabertooth and my sneaking skills. After recovering Kharjo's Moon Amulet, I returned to Riften to find that his caravan had already left, bound for Dawnstar, as I was told. Things are never as easy as they seem for me. With a quick passing through Whiterun to drop off some books and items, and checking in on Lydia, I set out north, bound for Dawnstar.
It was a mostly uneventful journey, livened up only by my witnessing of two wizards locked in a duel to the death. I decided to stay out of it, and somehow they managed to kill each other at the same time. They had some nice items too.
Upon arriving at Dawnstar, I met with Kharjo. In exchange for braving the bandits' lair to retrieve his lost amulet, Kharjo offered to accompany me in my journeys, which I readily accepted. I had never traveled with a fellow Khajiit, and I had much to ask him. He told me of our homeland, the life he lived, and the hardships and racism he endured throughout his life. Although he was shocked that I was adopted by Imperials, he still regarded me as a true Khajiit, albeit with a lot to learn about my people. I told him about my latest turn of events, me being a Dragonborn, my crazy shouting abilities, and all the general hi-jinks I'd been getting into. This seemed to impress him enough to want to continue traveling with me.
I briefly toured Dawnstar...and I confess there wasn't much to see. Two rival mines, a tavern, some houses and the Jarl's meager quarters. Looking at my map I became aware that the Greybeards had tasked me with finding a barrow not far from Dawnstar, and I set off along the coast. Taking one final look at Dawnstar, I turned to spot Kharjo sprinting forward, bow in hand. I knew what that meant, even before I heard the ominous flapping wings. Wasting no time, I let loose a volley of arrows alongside Kharjo, who seemed to be taking a dragon attack pretty well. Perhaps he had to deal with his own guarding his caravan. At first I thought the battle was going well in our favor, until the odds began to turn against us. Several horkers, those stupid creatures, began bellowing and charging in our direction. Distracted, I had just enough time to see a white blur attack me. A frost troll had entered the fray against us as well. I was on the defensive, and Kharjo was knocked down by the dragon's tail. And then, quite suddenly, another blur ran past me, toward the frost troll. It was the quicksilver mine owner....who may have been drunk, stupid, or on skooma. I wasted no time turning my focus back to the dragon, chugging a frost resisting potion for his breath and making sure my dagger was primed to strike with fire and poison. They say with the way dragons shout with deadly force, dragon battles are actually violent arguments....well this dragon was about to taste my linguistic power. With a mighty dragonborn shout, I struck down my foe, his body burning into a charred skeleton.
Looking around the battle wreckage, I found Kharjo alive and well, surrounded by dead horkers and a frost troll. And there...on the ground... the mine owner. Poor soul, I never even got his name. I still have no idea what possessed him to come to our aid..and yet without him we might not have succeeded. I did the only thing I could - I buried him at sea. I hope he find peace in death.
I now find myself at Jurgen Windcaller's Barrow. We will camp just outside the entrance, although the bodies of bandits and necromancers are a bit...unsettling.
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