With his round, bald head that makes him look hilariously like Karl Pilkington, and dressed in rags that even cockroaches would think twice about wiping their arses with it, Alan stepped into Riverwood. He strode confidently towards the blacksmith, Alvor who is incredibly fucking protective of his ingots. I asked Alvor what he has for sale, and he replied "some may call this junk, me I call them treasures". I don't know what kind of person would consider weapons and armour as junk OR treasures without getting a slap, but there you go. I was disheartened to see Alan only had 9 septims on him. If I was to be a blacksmith some day, I'd need money. As I walk down the stairs a woman called Gerdur (who's name sounds like she's helping to keep buildings up) rudely shouts in my face about how some guy called "Hod" is offering work at the mill.
Hod however, is not at the mill at all. In fact he's sat at home the lazy prick. He orders me to cut firewood up for him. It's better than nothing. So Alan walks over to a tree stump and sets to work cutting wood with his hands (the animation for cutting wood without an axe looks a lot like you're wanking off an invisible giant). Shirking this off as a bug, Alan turns to his left and nonchalantly takes the woodcutter's axe that some elf was about to take. While Alan gathers wood, the elf whinges to me about how Sven is stealing his bitch. I felt like saying to him his triangular head would put off any female, human or beast, but Alan just keeps on chopping. Soon I have 12 firewood, and I walk with Faendal back to Hod. He gives me only 60 bloody septims for the firewood, the stingey cunt. It's past noon by now, so I sit next to some ancient woman with a hat that makes her look Amish, who was shouting before about seeing a dragon. No idea what she's talking about. Must be insane.
I realise I haven't actually got any food yet, so I walk into Riverwood Traders to find two siblings bitching at each other. Suddenly I feel like I'm watching Eastenders, except it's a little more cheerier than that. I shut them up by talking to the bloke, Lucan. After noticing and sniggering that I have 69 septims, I decide to splurge and buy myself a cabbage for lunch. But before eating this one, juicy, delicious cabbage, I see a cooking pot behind me and I buy some salt and potatoes, bringing my bill up to 18 septims. Alan cooks up some lovely potato and cabbage soup and I walk outside, meeting Faendal near my chopping block. I have an instant lunch and, while we're on a lunch break (well at least I am, Faendal just seemed to be leaning on a table the entire time).
It's then I realise... I want to be Faendal. His bow is used to hunt, his axe to chop wood. I want him as a friend, so immediately ask him what the deal is with this girl he's after. He mentions something about how a bard called Sven is trying to steal her from him, and to deliver this fake letter to her, which he stuffs down my shirt. The fake letter is to be delivered to Camilla and told its from Sven, and since the letter contains bullshit about how she's a bitch (I didn't actually read it), she'll stop seeing Sven.
I decide to talk to Sven first to see if he is a wanker or not, and after showing him the letter he gives me a new one. At this point I realise while they're both bastards, Faendal is more of a badass. So I gently tell Camilla that Sven forged this letter, she doesn't really seem bothered, but tells me to talk to Faendal. By this point it's around 2pm, so I decide to get a move on cutting wood. I bump into Faendal who thanks me for convincing Camilla and says if I never need his help it's cool. So I deviously get him to cut wood at the same time as me, doubling my productivity. Even more deviously, I got him to give me his bow and arrows to hunt deer and wolves with.
After Faendal and I get our wood together I get 120 septims out of it which is cool. Time to work on my Smithing career.
I returned to Alvor the blacksmith, and under his instruction I made and tempered an iron dagger and a hide helmet, which will both be useful out hunting. For the rest of the afternoon Alan bought iron ingots from Alvor, and created armour from it, which he then sold back to Alvor for profitz. The time had reached 6:30pm, so I hit the inn.
Once there I met a drunk called Embry, who was being refused another drink. In a spontaneous move, I bought him some ale. Fight the power! He called me his "favourite drinkin' buddy", which warmed my heart considerably. On the other hand maybe it was just because I was standing in the fire. The barman bluntly told me that he cooks, which I laughed at then bought some mead and food. After I sat down and started to eat my apple pie, Sven came in and I asked him to sing Ragnar the Red, my favourite song. By the time I'd drunk 5 tankards of mead with Embry, it was 10pm, so after paying 10 septims for a room, Alan collapsed into bed. It had been an incredibly eventful day, for an NPC.
I rose from the inn just before 6 in the morning to join the hunt. As I set out I had visions of a Karl Pilkington figure walking and hunting like Aragorn from the Lord of the Rings, which was funny. I ran down the road and across the bridge, as I immediately spotted a deer on the other side of the river. Alan crouched and shot an arrow into the deer. Double damage! But the deer just ran away and a couple of wolves pounced on me. Could this be the end of Alan?
I quickly pulled my iron dagger out of my arse and swiped at the wolves. They died quickly, and I instantly skinned them. I shot at an elk, which took quite a bit of damage, but start to run away. I chased it, dagger out, and finally brought it down. I skinned it and stole it's meat, at which point Alan takes a swipe in the back. A bear! I backpedal, firing arrows wildly. Eventually a figure clad in chainmail with a donkey helmet on charged and slew the beast. My saviour! Turns out I had beckpedalled all the way to Whiterun, and I now stood in the tundra around the city. I triumphantly joined the road again and strode towards Whiterun.
As far ahead as the draw distance would allow I saw a giant engaging some tiny people down below. I was too scared to help, so I just watched. The giant fell however, and the woman there called me a coward and said she was a companion. I have no interest in joining the companions; I heard they send you on adventures. The time was nearing 11am, so I had to get a move on with the hunt.
I shot and stabbed another two deer, and got attacked by another wolf. Laden with pelts, I began the journey back to Whiterun, where I could rent a room in the inn. Along the way a thief ran towards me and asked for all my money. I had none, so I tried to persuade him of that. He was having none of it, and chased me back to the Whiterun stable. I hoped that the guards would do something other than tell me about how they took arrows in the knee, but they just watched as a hooded man tried to brutally beat me to death. I did it in self defence. Alan killed a man. I was so disgusted with myself for killing another NPC that I looted his body and left him on the side of the road.
By now it was past dinner time so I stuffed some raw venison into my mouth and entered Whiterun. I saw the blacksmith next to me, so I made my pelts into leather, which I made some actual armour from. Now Alan is a fine sight: Karl Pilkington in leather armour with a hunting bow. I still dress normally around town, as any good NPC would.
After spending the afternoon selling all the meat and leather I could spare and crafting some armour, I decided to hit the market proper. There was a crazy old woman selling maces and jewelry, and a place called the Drunken Huntsman. Mistaking it for a inn to get hammered in, I entered. And found it was a place that sold bows as WELL as a bar. Someone offered to fight me, which I refused. I'm not that type of person. At least Alan isn't. I went back to the market, and found a pretty thing by the name of Carlotta Valentia. She asked me to sort out some creepy bard who kept coming onto her in extremely rape-y sounding ways. I agreed. What's the worst that could happen?
I entered the local inn and reserved a room for the night, then bought some mead. The local bard was better than the one in Riverwood, I got him to sing the Age of Agression. I don't really support the Imperials, but it's a nice enough song. Then I remembered that the bard was Mikael, the bloke who's been bothering my lovely. Before I know it, Alan's only option to deal with him is a brawl. I can't back out now...
The punches fly thick and fast, while the people in the inn cheer and scream. Eventually, however unlikely this seems, I win. One final punch from Alan sends Mikael to his knees and he agrees to stop bothering Carolotta. Success!
An unintentional hero, Alan hits the hay.