The road to Dawnstar was long—far longer than I had imagined. Thankfully, the map function in my system showed my location, but just like in the game, new sites didn't reveal themselves until I stumbled across them personally. At least the major cities were already marked, so finding my destination wasn't impossible.
As I walked, my thoughts drifted to the time period I'd landed in. If this world followed the game, I should be somewhere in the Fourth Era. But the shipwreck I'd woken up in was completely deserted. No bandits, no scavengers—nothing. That didn't match Skyrim as I remembered it.
Which meant one thing: I might not even be in the Dragonborn's time. It could be the past… or the future.
The thought made me both excited and uneasy. Meeting the Dragonborn would be amazing—he was the main hero of Skyrim, after all. But if Alduin was still alive, I didn't stand a chance. Dragons were one thing; world-eating gods were another. And honestly, even Meridia's temple might be beyond me right now. The shade that haunted it was strong, and here I was, stuck at level one with leather armor and an iron sword.
Still, Meridia wasn't the type to care about excuses. If she wanted something done, she'd shove it onto anyone unlucky enough to touch her beacon.
…
Hours passed. Skyrim's scale in reality was insane—far larger than I'd expected. I thought I'd at least be close to Dawnstar after a few hours, but five had gone by, and I wasn't even halfway there. Worse, the sun was already setting.
The chill of night was coming fast. I wasn't prepared for freezing winds and endless snow. Without shelter or fire, I'd be a frozen corpse before morning.
I needed a campsite.
That's when the beacon in my hands buzzed and chimed—like a medieval cellphone.
– Abandoned Pale Imperial Camp Discovered –
I blinked, then checked the map. Sure enough, I'd found something. But abandoned? That didn't make sense. Imperial and Stormcloak camps should've been active—unless…
Of course. The civil war was already over. One side had won, and the other had scattered. Which meant I wasn't in the Dragonborn's exact time anymore—I was somewhere after it. Skyrim had moved on.
That realization made me grin despite my exhaustion. This wasn't just a retread of the game. This was something new. A Skyrim beyond what I knew.
But first things first—survival.
The camp was deserted, but surprisingly intact. A few tents still stood, complete with fur bedding. A firepit lay in the center, surrounded by chopped wood. Whether it was Meridia's blessing or dumb luck, it was exactly what I needed.
I reached out and cast Fireball. My hand flared with heat, and flames leapt onto the wood. To my relief, it worked without touching the beacon. Finally—magic I could use freely. If I had to clutch that cursed relic every time I cast a spell, I'd have lost my mind.
Warmth filled the camp as the fire roared to life. I sank into one of the furs, exhaustion settling in.
That's when it hit me.
Food. I had none.
My stomach growled loudly, as if to remind me I hadn't eaten since arriving in this world. And water? Even worse. My throat was already dry.
I stood, scanning the abandoned camp. Maybe something edible was left behind, though I doubted it. Still, I had to try—
Thud.
A branch snapped in the darkness.