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Richard strode into Dragonsreach. There was a hum of activity, a feeling of nervousness like an expectation of lightning. He retrieved the Dragonstone from his pouch and turned towards the apartment that Farengar used as his. He heard voices talking about something, as he drew closer they were remarking on some old text and the terminology used therein. He didn't recognize the woman in leather mail leaning over his desk looking at the pages of an old, if not ancient book. She wore a leather hood that hid her face, but her voice was familiar...

It sounded like the proprietor of the Sleeping Giant in tone and timbre. RIchard moved to stand next to the map and casually studied it till they hit a lull in their conversation. Both of them were hooded, their peripheral vision occluded and he could move quietly.

Finally some instinct made them turn towards him.

"Ah, the Jarl's protege! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow I see," Farengar said, then his eyes lit upon the Dragonstone.

"Ah, you have it!" he beamed. Farengar took the stone finding it heavier than it looked, though he didn't drop it.

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow alone?  Nice work," the woman said. Richard was even more certain now that it was the tavern owner.

"There was Witcher's work to be done there," he answered her. "Any other work for a Witcher Farengar?"

"Ah, not that I'm aware of. Now we begin the work that's sadly undervalued in Skyrim, the tedious work of the mind."

Richard turned toward a commotion he heard from the hall. A few moments later Irileth strode into the room.

"Farengar, Farengar. Attend, a Dragon has been sighted near the Western Watchtower."  She turned to Richard. "You should come too."

The group of them ascended the Great Stair, and before much more time had passed a breathless guardsman related the attack and how he had run all the way to bring the news. There was no disguising how scared the man was. Richard could well understand. He'd felt fear when the Black Beast laid waste to Helgen.

He detailed Irileth to gather a detachment of guards and head there. Farengar wanted to go but Balgruf refused him. Then he turned to Richard.

"Witcher," he said respectfully. "We need your help. Of all the men in the hold you have the most experience with Dragons."

Richard quirked a wry smile. "If you mean running for my life and finding that my signs had no effect on that thing then I suppose you could say I have experience."

"More than anybody else here.  Please, help my people Witcher."

Richard nodded and turned to go. He adjusted his baldric as he descended.