Greetings dear reader. I feel as though I have found peace after my encounter with Sheogorath (as I have learned his name is spelt). I cannot say I understand what did or did not happen in that palace, but it is behind me now. I still feel taunted by the unexplainable presence of the Wabbjack, not to mention its... inconsistent use in battle (I have determined that it can either damage, heal, or transform those targeted by it), I cannot deny it’s existence, and I must simply except the truth for what it is, regardless of how illogical it may be.
If only I had reached this conclusion earlier. After writing my entry yesterday, I headed straight for the inn. I wish I could say I walked in a trance, unaware of what I was about to do.
But as I walked to the bar and ordered a bottle of mead, I thought through every movement and every word. I recounted each memory of pain and sadness, dismissing them in favor of the memories of numbness and euphoria. Thank Alkosh moon sugar is not readily available in this province, or I cannot say what I would have done. I left the inn drunk as I’ve ever been.
I wandered Solitude for the next few hours, broken and tired, unable to even walk straight. I stumbled into the Bards College, clumsily pocketing a book on alchemy a friend had asked me to procure. I do not know whether I was somehow unseen or if the staff pitied me too much to say anything.
It was not until I sobered up and left the city that I felt a moment of understanding As I walked out of the gates, I spied a mudcrab advancing on an unaware rabbit down on the shore near the East Empire Trading Company Warehouse. I snuck down and quickly dispatched the wretched thing with an arrow.
I couldn’t help but smile. I reminisced on my adventuring days spent wandering untamed lands, hunting game, fighting monsters and bandits, and sampling the landscape and flora around me. It is not intoxication and euphoria which has been the key to my self-restoration, but exploration in the wild.
This after all is why I am adventuring in Skyrim in the first place. There is so much wonder in this world. Wandering east of the marshes, the sky dark and the stars shining bright, I began to stalk a frost troll stomping across the icy hills. The frost on it’s coat gleamed in the moonlight, inviting me to challenge.
But just as I was preparing to pounce on it, a pack of Ice Wraiths exploded from the ground, launching themselves into the surprised troll. The troll roared as it’s muscles bulged in violent, angry strikes, blood pouring from its wounds, staining the brilliantly white fur.
After the troll had defeated the wraiths, he stood atop the hill, panting heavily, violence and desparation in his eyes. The scene was eerily beautiful in the silent night. I watched him for a moment, then turned and walked away.
Goodnight dear reader. It is cold, and I will find a fire and rest. Skyrim will wait for me til morning.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
3rd of Heartfire, 4E 201
Dear reader, I write to you with a dire feeling in my heart - I fear I may be going mad. This morning I traveled back to Solitude, feeling detached from my journey. Brenor's frost-enchanted hammer felt increasingly heavy on my back. I realized I could not bring myself to sell or consume it. I dropped the hammer into the marsh.
As I entered Solitude, I was approached by a man, or at least I thought I was approached by a man, who asked me to find his master inside the Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace. The wing is named of course for the infamous Emperor Pelagius III, known as Pelagius the Mad, who’s death is celebrated every year as a holiday of foolishness and wild activity. As I already had to speak with the Jarl's mage, I agreed in passing.
Or was it someone inside the keep who first asked me? You see, dear reader, I cannot remember what happened in what order. What I can say is that somehow, using a hip (Yes, I believe it was the pelvis of the mad Pelagius himself, given to me by the mysterious servant near the gates), I found my way into a deserted wing of the palace, .
While exploring this wing. I must have suffered a nervous attack - it is the only explanation I can think of. I felt as though I was ripped downward, my eyes filled with sound, and my eyes rolled into my head. When the sensation stopped, I found myself dressed in plain but odd attire, standing in the midst of a forest I had never seen before. The air seemed thick, waving hazily, the sounds of insects I did not know filling my ears.
I walked forward into a clearing, where I saw Pelagius himself - an emperor dead for centuries, who I recognized only from statues and paintings - sitting at a table laid high with food. He was conversing with a man he addressed as Shay-oe-gor-ath, but reminded me of Sheggorat, the Skooma Cat God of Insanity. Shayoegorath was dressed neatly if oddly in bright red, though my gaze stuck on the deep wildness in his eyes.
Pelagius was pleading with Shayoegorath to release him from the forest, which apparently was the manifestation of his madness. Shayoegorath acknowledged me as soon as I entered the clearing. He spoke in rhymes and riddles, declaring he would take himself and his entourage home and free Pelagius if and only if I found a way to escape from this prison of madness.
Pelagius’s voice then guided me through a series of surreal tasks which have become blurred in my mind. What I do remember seems incomprehensible - being handed a gnarled staff called Wabbajack, who’s effect was never explained; innumerable monsters materializing out of thin air, an innocent child lying terrified in bed, and the laughing, mocking tone of Shayoegorath echoing in my head.
In the end, I collapsed exhausted, and awoke back in the forgotten wing of the Blue Palace. My head rung, and though I was breathing heavily, I actually felt... at peace. I felt confident, dear reader, as illogical as it sounds, that Pelagius was now at peace at well. Though unnerved by my journey, I felt solace, concluding the whole episode was my own minds way of accepting Brenors death. I hoped the at I could now continue on my adventures whole again.
Dear reader, this reassurance remained with me until I reached the gates of Solitude. As I was almost in the natural world again, I realized I was not wearing the armor I entered the city with, but the foreign clothing I remembered from the dream. As I searched through my belongings for my armor, feeling confusion and paranoia rising within me, my hand grasped around a gnarled but strangely vibrant staff. I pulled out the Wabbajack, unmistakable in the late evening light. I fired a bolt from the staff at a deer outside the city. I swear to you, dear reader - it turned into a chicken. Curiouser.... and curiouser.
As I entered Solitude, I was approached by a man, or at least I thought I was approached by a man, who asked me to find his master inside the Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace. The wing is named of course for the infamous Emperor Pelagius III, known as Pelagius the Mad, who’s death is celebrated every year as a holiday of foolishness and wild activity. As I already had to speak with the Jarl's mage, I agreed in passing.
Or was it someone inside the keep who first asked me? You see, dear reader, I cannot remember what happened in what order. What I can say is that somehow, using a hip (Yes, I believe it was the pelvis of the mad Pelagius himself, given to me by the mysterious servant near the gates), I found my way into a deserted wing of the palace, .
While exploring this wing. I must have suffered a nervous attack - it is the only explanation I can think of. I felt as though I was ripped downward, my eyes filled with sound, and my eyes rolled into my head. When the sensation stopped, I found myself dressed in plain but odd attire, standing in the midst of a forest I had never seen before. The air seemed thick, waving hazily, the sounds of insects I did not know filling my ears.
I walked forward into a clearing, where I saw Pelagius himself - an emperor dead for centuries, who I recognized only from statues and paintings - sitting at a table laid high with food. He was conversing with a man he addressed as Shay-oe-gor-ath, but reminded me of Sheggorat, the Skooma Cat God of Insanity. Shayoegorath was dressed neatly if oddly in bright red, though my gaze stuck on the deep wildness in his eyes.
Pelagius was pleading with Shayoegorath to release him from the forest, which apparently was the manifestation of his madness. Shayoegorath acknowledged me as soon as I entered the clearing. He spoke in rhymes and riddles, declaring he would take himself and his entourage home and free Pelagius if and only if I found a way to escape from this prison of madness.
Pelagius’s voice then guided me through a series of surreal tasks which have become blurred in my mind. What I do remember seems incomprehensible - being handed a gnarled staff called Wabbajack, who’s effect was never explained; innumerable monsters materializing out of thin air, an innocent child lying terrified in bed, and the laughing, mocking tone of Shayoegorath echoing in my head.
In the end, I collapsed exhausted, and awoke back in the forgotten wing of the Blue Palace. My head rung, and though I was breathing heavily, I actually felt... at peace. I felt confident, dear reader, as illogical as it sounds, that Pelagius was now at peace at well. Though unnerved by my journey, I felt solace, concluding the whole episode was my own minds way of accepting Brenors death. I hoped the at I could now continue on my adventures whole again.
Dear reader, this reassurance remained with me until I reached the gates of Solitude. As I was almost in the natural world again, I realized I was not wearing the armor I entered the city with, but the foreign clothing I remembered from the dream. As I searched through my belongings for my armor, feeling confusion and paranoia rising within me, my hand grasped around a gnarled but strangely vibrant staff. I pulled out the Wabbajack, unmistakable in the late evening light. I fired a bolt from the staff at a deer outside the city. I swear to you, dear reader - it turned into a chicken. Curiouser.... and curiouser.
Monday, November 21, 2011
2nd of Heartfire, 4E 201
Dear reader, it is with the heaviest of hearts that I write to you today. I must with great sadness inform you that Brenor has fallen. He was killed this morning, fighting alongside me against a vampire coven which had occupied Pinewood Cave. I cannot express my grief at his death. Only yesterday I had described to you the fidelity we had begun to feel in our adventures together. I wish I could tell you more about the battle for Pinewood Cave, but I fear do not have the heart to describe the events in detail. I feel I must take a respite from combat and take time meditate on this loss.
Long live Brenor in the annals of history! Let his contribution be known through this account! And, perhaps more importantly, may his death not be in vain. Evil must be torn from Skyrim – this tragedy demands nothing less.
Long live Brenor in the annals of history! Let his contribution be known through this account! And, perhaps more importantly, may his death not be in vain. Evil must be torn from Skyrim – this tragedy demands nothing less.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
1st of Heartfire, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader! I have spent nearly all of today engaged in battle with a group of bandits at Fort Hraggstad, an old military outpost I was asked to clear by the Imperial Legion. It was a good, enjoyable battle, and for the first time in a long while, I really felt as though and Benor and I truly connected as companions.
We left the vampire coven, and returned to Morthal, where the Jarl declared me a Thane of Morthal (I am now a nobleman of two cities here - me, a commoner, and a Khajit in Skyrim at that!). I then traveled north to Solitude where I dealt with a few bits of business and unloaded my loot. I witnessed the Jarl of Solitude, apparently the Empire-backed claimant of High Queen of Skyrim, hold court. She seemed somewhat naive, but willing to listen to her retinue, who seemed to be competent.
We then left for the real goal - Fort Hraggstad, which lies about an hour’s travel west of the gates of Solitude. On my way, I came upon a stone carved with runes, which I reverently approached and laid my hand upon. As I touched it, I felt power flowing through my body, as the burdens I was carrying became lighter and I became refreshed and energized. I left the stone encouraged and ready, navigating the snow covered rocks due west-south-west.
We ultimately approached the Fort from the south, and saw a bandit, a redgaurd woman, patrolling outside the walls. I instructed Brenor to wait in the brush, watching as she continued into the fort. I snuck to the wall, crouching with by body pressed flush against the stone. The woman strolled out, turning away from me to make her circuit around the perimeter - I snuck behind her, drew my two enchanted axes and slashed through her body, killing her in one movement. It was a most satisfying experience.
The perimeter guard dispatched, I slowly crept into the courtyard, keeping low to the ground. I quickly took account of my foes. A Nord woman stood facing into the doorway of a small hut joined to the west inner wall, a huge warhammer strapped to her back. Two archers were stationed high in towers at the corners of the fort, surveying the wilderness to the north. Good thing I took care of the redguard while she was south of the compound!
I crept behind the woman with the warhammer, slicing threw her as I had the redguard. I had little time to celebrate - suddenly, a huge Nord burst from the hut swinging a longsword, slamming it into my head, knocking back dazed and confused. He reared back to swing again, connecting with the ground as a rolled away. I looked around for Benor to rush in, but remembered almost too late that he was waiting outside, as I again evaded the sword just as it was about to connect with my head again. I sprinted away, spinning around to throw a fireball at my attacker. He charged me again, his burning silhouette eerily elegant in the early morning dark. As he was almost upon me, I cast a spell calming him. His face, gnarled into an expression of rage, suddenly relaxed - he looked confused and serene, sheathing his sword and ambling shakily away. I cracked his skull with the blade of my axe.
I quickly snuck into the highest of the towers, climbing the winding steps till I could see the bandit grumbling to himself about a girl who did not return his advances. I came behind him, and shouted FUS-RO-DAH, the force of my Thu'un pushing him off the tower. I heard a sickening sound as his body hit the ground.
Suddenly, I felt a piercing pain in my side. I reached down and felt blood pouring around an arrow lodged in my thigh. I pulled the arrow free, turning to see another flying towards my face which I narrowly dodged. The archer in the west tower was firing at me – I pulled out my own bow and fired an arrow back, which stuck very satisfyingly in the bandit’s cheek. We both drew again, loosing arrows simultaneously. It quickly became apparent that the frost enchantment on my bow was draining the bandit faster than she could hope to overcome, and in less than a minute the criminal scum was dead.
I quickly ran back to Brenor, casting a healing spell as I ordered him to follow me. We made our way into the Fort’s prison. It was here that we truly began to click as partners. There was only one bandit in the prison, who saw Brenor as soon as we entered. The bandit’s quick strikes forced Brenor into constant defense, until I released a barrage of fireballs, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. As he turned to engage me, clearly wounded near death, Brenor plunged his longsword deep into the bandit’s belly, freezing him dead in mid-step. I raised my eyebrow in surprise as the masterful move, which elicited only a sly smile from Brenor.
We burst open the doors to the fort’s main hall, standing for a moment in doorway to enjoy the shocked looks on the bandit’s faces. We charged, cornering one bandit which we quickly dispatched with a flurry of our blades. The Bandit leader provided more of a challenge. He advanced on me, forcing me to block with my shield and hurl spinning fireballs as I ran. He chased me around the building, keeping me on my toes but steadily losing health. As we rounded a corner, Brenor reached out from the bandit’s blindside, grabbing him by his throat and slamming him to the ground before thrusting his sword squarely into the man’s ribcage.
Reader, this was the most effective battle Brenor and I have ever fought. My training in stealth has been immensely helpful, and Brenor showed his true ability. As we left the fort, I felt excited about our combats to come. This will be a difficult journey – Skyrim will take work to save. But for the first time, I feel confident it can be done.
We left the vampire coven, and returned to Morthal, where the Jarl declared me a Thane of Morthal (I am now a nobleman of two cities here - me, a commoner, and a Khajit in Skyrim at that!). I then traveled north to Solitude where I dealt with a few bits of business and unloaded my loot. I witnessed the Jarl of Solitude, apparently the Empire-backed claimant of High Queen of Skyrim, hold court. She seemed somewhat naive, but willing to listen to her retinue, who seemed to be competent.
We then left for the real goal - Fort Hraggstad, which lies about an hour’s travel west of the gates of Solitude. On my way, I came upon a stone carved with runes, which I reverently approached and laid my hand upon. As I touched it, I felt power flowing through my body, as the burdens I was carrying became lighter and I became refreshed and energized. I left the stone encouraged and ready, navigating the snow covered rocks due west-south-west.
We ultimately approached the Fort from the south, and saw a bandit, a redgaurd woman, patrolling outside the walls. I instructed Brenor to wait in the brush, watching as she continued into the fort. I snuck to the wall, crouching with by body pressed flush against the stone. The woman strolled out, turning away from me to make her circuit around the perimeter - I snuck behind her, drew my two enchanted axes and slashed through her body, killing her in one movement. It was a most satisfying experience.
The perimeter guard dispatched, I slowly crept into the courtyard, keeping low to the ground. I quickly took account of my foes. A Nord woman stood facing into the doorway of a small hut joined to the west inner wall, a huge warhammer strapped to her back. Two archers were stationed high in towers at the corners of the fort, surveying the wilderness to the north. Good thing I took care of the redguard while she was south of the compound!
I crept behind the woman with the warhammer, slicing threw her as I had the redguard. I had little time to celebrate - suddenly, a huge Nord burst from the hut swinging a longsword, slamming it into my head, knocking back dazed and confused. He reared back to swing again, connecting with the ground as a rolled away. I looked around for Benor to rush in, but remembered almost too late that he was waiting outside, as I again evaded the sword just as it was about to connect with my head again. I sprinted away, spinning around to throw a fireball at my attacker. He charged me again, his burning silhouette eerily elegant in the early morning dark. As he was almost upon me, I cast a spell calming him. His face, gnarled into an expression of rage, suddenly relaxed - he looked confused and serene, sheathing his sword and ambling shakily away. I cracked his skull with the blade of my axe.
I quickly snuck into the highest of the towers, climbing the winding steps till I could see the bandit grumbling to himself about a girl who did not return his advances. I came behind him, and shouted FUS-RO-DAH, the force of my Thu'un pushing him off the tower. I heard a sickening sound as his body hit the ground.
Suddenly, I felt a piercing pain in my side. I reached down and felt blood pouring around an arrow lodged in my thigh. I pulled the arrow free, turning to see another flying towards my face which I narrowly dodged. The archer in the west tower was firing at me – I pulled out my own bow and fired an arrow back, which stuck very satisfyingly in the bandit’s cheek. We both drew again, loosing arrows simultaneously. It quickly became apparent that the frost enchantment on my bow was draining the bandit faster than she could hope to overcome, and in less than a minute the criminal scum was dead.
I quickly ran back to Brenor, casting a healing spell as I ordered him to follow me. We made our way into the Fort’s prison. It was here that we truly began to click as partners. There was only one bandit in the prison, who saw Brenor as soon as we entered. The bandit’s quick strikes forced Brenor into constant defense, until I released a barrage of fireballs, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. As he turned to engage me, clearly wounded near death, Brenor plunged his longsword deep into the bandit’s belly, freezing him dead in mid-step. I raised my eyebrow in surprise as the masterful move, which elicited only a sly smile from Brenor.
We burst open the doors to the fort’s main hall, standing for a moment in doorway to enjoy the shocked looks on the bandit’s faces. We charged, cornering one bandit which we quickly dispatched with a flurry of our blades. The Bandit leader provided more of a challenge. He advanced on me, forcing me to block with my shield and hurl spinning fireballs as I ran. He chased me around the building, keeping me on my toes but steadily losing health. As we rounded a corner, Brenor reached out from the bandit’s blindside, grabbing him by his throat and slamming him to the ground before thrusting his sword squarely into the man’s ribcage.
Reader, this was the most effective battle Brenor and I have ever fought. My training in stealth has been immensely helpful, and Brenor showed his true ability. As we left the fort, I felt excited about our combats to come. This will be a difficult journey – Skyrim will take work to save. But for the first time, I feel confident it can be done.
31st of Last Seed, 4E 201
Ugh, greetings dear reader. My head is killing me. I enjoyed a fun evening with some revelers I met along the road - I'm not really sure what happened for much of last night. The mead was good though...
I am in good spirits though. I am currently making my way to Morthal, having returned to the vampire coven and cleared it of its evil inhabitants. It feels good to finish things! We shall see what the Jarl of Morthal offers as my rewards - not that it matters. Too much. In my battle against the vampires, I put to good use a new spell with allows me to reanimate the corpses of my enemies to fight on my side - one of the more interesting abilities I have used. You do not see vampires battle against their thrall very frequently!
I have decided not to accompany the innkeeper in battling the dragon just yet - I still need to gain strength before undertaking that challenge, though learning another shout would be most useful. On the subject of shots, I traveled again to the greybeards, who taught me a third word for the Unrelenting Force Thu'un - though they again refused to teach me many of the words they know! I cannot understand their petulance! They continually tell me I am gifted and must fight this indomitable force, but will not equip with the tools I need to fight it! The arrogant fools...
On a more pleasant note, I forgot to tell you that I am in fact the owner of a new house! It is very bare at the moment, and contains nothing but my books and a butterfly in a jar I found somewhere at the moment. I shall try and remember to do a sketch when I return there. Goodbye for now reader, and send me what thoughts of inspiration and advice you can!
I am in good spirits though. I am currently making my way to Morthal, having returned to the vampire coven and cleared it of its evil inhabitants. It feels good to finish things! We shall see what the Jarl of Morthal offers as my rewards - not that it matters. Too much. In my battle against the vampires, I put to good use a new spell with allows me to reanimate the corpses of my enemies to fight on my side - one of the more interesting abilities I have used. You do not see vampires battle against their thrall very frequently!
I have decided not to accompany the innkeeper in battling the dragon just yet - I still need to gain strength before undertaking that challenge, though learning another shout would be most useful. On the subject of shots, I traveled again to the greybeards, who taught me a third word for the Unrelenting Force Thu'un - though they again refused to teach me many of the words they know! I cannot understand their petulance! They continually tell me I am gifted and must fight this indomitable force, but will not equip with the tools I need to fight it! The arrogant fools...
On a more pleasant note, I forgot to tell you that I am in fact the owner of a new house! It is very bare at the moment, and contains nothing but my books and a butterfly in a jar I found somewhere at the moment. I shall try and remember to do a sketch when I return there. Goodbye for now reader, and send me what thoughts of inspiration and advice you can!
Saturday, November 19, 2011
3th lats edd IN the fourttt i don't rembember
I thought i shold let you know my good, favority, loverly reader... i Just came upon some revlers - no, revelers - on the road. They had some excllent, truly, truley, excellent mead with them - I Drank A Lot! a wholllllle lot! Me and brenor or whaever his name is... we're gonna have a "party"! I'm gonna make him! Goodnight reader!!! Im on my way to the Grybeards... stinking old selfish Greyberds... Greybeards!
30th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader. I am currently the basement of the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood at the behest of a woman. No, it's not what you're thinking - I wish! Why then you ask? Well, the innkeeper here claims to be in league with the Greybeards, and I am to accompany her to slay a dragon. I tremble at the thought! I have been frustrated lately, often finding myself being unable to complete quests, breaking the first line of defense in a dungeon with ease but being spurned by the second. I shall have to strive harder and gain more skill. I do not like running away!
On the subject of annoyance - before fighting the coven of vampires (a task I was unable to complete), I asked a townsman, Thennor, to join me. After retreating, he has not left my side. He is a poor companion, not sneaking at the appropriate time, and frequently fleeing in the middle of combat. I have repeatedly asked him to leave, which he will agree to but then continue to follow me! Is the whole world against me?
I can say that I have acquired more spells! I am now using Fireball as my main attack, and have been using a spell to heal my companions in combat. I also decided to go to a shrine have my diseases healed - some of the changes I was experiencing began to seem... unnatural. I found no inspiration to let it take its course, so I am back and fit as ever!
I think I shall include some more pictures of me hunting and exploring - I do enjoy my art, and I hope I am not making this account boring with my narcissism. Wish me luck reader; I have kept this woman waiting long enough. I will report back with more information soon!
On the subject of annoyance - before fighting the coven of vampires (a task I was unable to complete), I asked a townsman, Thennor, to join me. After retreating, he has not left my side. He is a poor companion, not sneaking at the appropriate time, and frequently fleeing in the middle of combat. I have repeatedly asked him to leave, which he will agree to but then continue to follow me! Is the whole world against me?
I can say that I have acquired more spells! I am now using Fireball as my main attack, and have been using a spell to heal my companions in combat. I also decided to go to a shrine have my diseases healed - some of the changes I was experiencing began to seem... unnatural. I found no inspiration to let it take its course, so I am back and fit as ever!
I think I shall include some more pictures of me hunting and exploring - I do enjoy my art, and I hope I am not making this account boring with my narcissism. Wish me luck reader; I have kept this woman waiting long enough. I will report back with more information soon!
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| A difficult shot I know.... |
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| I do not know the name of this river, but it is very beautiful. |
28th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Dear reader, I am so glad to have this journal to occupy me. I have never been so bored. First some good news - after some hunting and selling, I have finally gathered the 5,000 gold needed to buy a house offered to me in Whiterun! Somewhere to store the books I carry (I currently have nearly 50 on my person). I am taking a break from my adventures in the marshes and traveling by carriage back to Whiterun. There I shall purchase my house, and I think I will also reconnect with the companions (a band of mercenaries I joined with briefly), and travel back up to the greybeards to see if they can give me any more aid (I am still frustrated with their petulance).
A final note before I end this short entry - I have been feeling rather sick as of late, especially with the rising of the sun. I feel... cold all the time, but still seem burned by the sun. I wonder, dear reader, if I should have this looked into or pass it off as a minor sickness?
We shall see as it goes, pray that I do not kill myself to get out of this mind-numbing journey! It is so difficult to watch scenery and adventure go by when I am used to connecting with it!
A final note before I end this short entry - I have been feeling rather sick as of late, especially with the rising of the sun. I feel... cold all the time, but still seem burned by the sun. I wonder, dear reader, if I should have this looked into or pass it off as a minor sickness?
We shall see as it goes, pray that I do not kill myself to get out of this mind-numbing journey! It is so difficult to watch scenery and adventure go by when I am used to connecting with it!
27th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader. I write to you from outside a vampire coven. I can say honestly I never expected to write to down those words with sincerity. I was investigating the fire which killed the woman and her child – only to be approached by the child’s ghost! I am not one with a great respect for tales of spirits and miracles in general, but I can vouch for this experience with honesty and confidence. The child asked me to playfully hunt her after darkness had fallen – I ultimately found that her death was part of a plot by a vampire to convert the populous into harvestable slaves. I attempted to storm their coven, but their leader was to powerful – I will have to regroup and return another time.
Ah, but I promised a full update in my last entry – I did successfully join the Imperial Legion, and am currently classed with clearing a nearby fort of bandits before being fully admitted into the ranks. My adventure with the Argonian robber was distinctly less successful. I knew it was unwise to participate in this type of vile activity. I was double-crossed by the Argonian’s gang, and had to fight my way out. I still do not know where this loot is hidden – Alkosh chide me for my sins.
I recently acquired a new bow – an Orcish piece which enchanted with frost damage. I also came upon a forge which gains power under the light of the moon. I smithed an axe by it which burns with moonshine. I know the power of the moon over our world, and hopefully this weapon will draw Jode and Jone to aid me in my endeavors.
Before I leave you reader, I must tell you of the joy I found in sneaking through the streets of Solitude last night, picking locks of residents houses. Do not think me a thief, for I did not take any from the homes. I do find the act of lock picking so pleasurable, and the power to open a barrier others had tried to bar me from brings me such a feeling of control. Goodbye for now, I must heal and continue on my adventures.
Ah, but I promised a full update in my last entry – I did successfully join the Imperial Legion, and am currently classed with clearing a nearby fort of bandits before being fully admitted into the ranks. My adventure with the Argonian robber was distinctly less successful. I knew it was unwise to participate in this type of vile activity. I was double-crossed by the Argonian’s gang, and had to fight my way out. I still do not know where this loot is hidden – Alkosh chide me for my sins.
I recently acquired a new bow – an Orcish piece which enchanted with frost damage. I also came upon a forge which gains power under the light of the moon. I smithed an axe by it which burns with moonshine. I know the power of the moon over our world, and hopefully this weapon will draw Jode and Jone to aid me in my endeavors.
Before I leave you reader, I must tell you of the joy I found in sneaking through the streets of Solitude last night, picking locks of residents houses. Do not think me a thief, for I did not take any from the homes. I do find the act of lock picking so pleasurable, and the power to open a barrier others had tried to bar me from brings me such a feeling of control. Goodbye for now, I must heal and continue on my adventures.
25th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Alkosh's name, it has been the busiest day. I am very tired. I have made my way to the strong and prosperous city Solitude, home fortress of the Imperial legion. Upon entering, I came upon a man being executed, apparently for helping Ulfric (or is it Ulfrich? Knowing these Nords, it is probably Ulfrighchkequhzc or the like) escape custody. He is by all reports a good man, and claimed to only be following the Nord custom in accepting kings by duel. While I understand his thinking, can he not see this is why Skryim still languishes behind the rest of the Empire? Law defeats tradition – that is the way of this world.
On my way here, I came across a town where a fire had taken place, killing a woman and her daughter. The Jarl of the town asked me to investigate, as according to rumor, the husband likely started the fire, and has since run off with another woman, Alva. I met her along the road - most unsettling woman.
On a more lighthearted note, is it not interesting, dear reader, being a traveler among sedentary people? For example, every town I enter refers to their leader as "the Jarl" - not “a Jarl,” but “the.” I often find my thinking “why would [the Jarl in the last town] do such a thing?” It is a confusing life. But I do love it.
I have just finished the most excellent book, "The Legend of Red Eagle." At first I thought it a fairly rudimentary tale of politics and war - but it became an engrossing story of the origins of Morrowind and man's inability to estimate his own limits. It is a good thing I am not tempted beyond my abilities - Khajit are known for their humility.
Inside Solitude, I had the most uncomfortable conversation. I began talking to an Argonian named Jaree-something. As it turned out, he was some sort of criminal vagabond. He asked me to extinguish a nearby lighthouse, hoping this would wreck an incoming ship so that he and others could loot it. I am disgusted by the premise of law-breaking... but yet intrigued by his offer. It is a simple enough thing, and he promises no one would be hurt. Should I do what he asks? I hate to leave business unfinished.
Alas it is again goodbye reader. I have much to think about. Hopefully by my next writing, I will be able to inform you on my attempts to join the Legion, investigate a murder, and loot a ship. I told you I was busy!
Oh, I almost forgot, how rude of me. In the murder-town (yes, not the best name), I was asked to brawl with a local bruiser called Benor - he assumed through his size he could beat me. Reader, do not challenge a Khajit to fight unarmed. Using my claws I was able to easily best him, and have since taken him into my service. I sent Lydia home, and now have a more powerful, if less pleasant to look at, companion. He is also... considerably less witty – but that swing of a warhammer more than makes up for it.
I think I shall include a picture of he atop a small mountain I recently climbed - ah, listen to me, I have been here to long! Small mountain...
On my way here, I came across a town where a fire had taken place, killing a woman and her daughter. The Jarl of the town asked me to investigate, as according to rumor, the husband likely started the fire, and has since run off with another woman, Alva. I met her along the road - most unsettling woman.
On a more lighthearted note, is it not interesting, dear reader, being a traveler among sedentary people? For example, every town I enter refers to their leader as "the Jarl" - not “a Jarl,” but “the.” I often find my thinking “why would [the Jarl in the last town] do such a thing?” It is a confusing life. But I do love it.
I have just finished the most excellent book, "The Legend of Red Eagle." At first I thought it a fairly rudimentary tale of politics and war - but it became an engrossing story of the origins of Morrowind and man's inability to estimate his own limits. It is a good thing I am not tempted beyond my abilities - Khajit are known for their humility.
Inside Solitude, I had the most uncomfortable conversation. I began talking to an Argonian named Jaree-something. As it turned out, he was some sort of criminal vagabond. He asked me to extinguish a nearby lighthouse, hoping this would wreck an incoming ship so that he and others could loot it. I am disgusted by the premise of law-breaking... but yet intrigued by his offer. It is a simple enough thing, and he promises no one would be hurt. Should I do what he asks? I hate to leave business unfinished.
Alas it is again goodbye reader. I have much to think about. Hopefully by my next writing, I will be able to inform you on my attempts to join the Legion, investigate a murder, and loot a ship. I told you I was busy!
Oh, I almost forgot, how rude of me. In the murder-town (yes, not the best name), I was asked to brawl with a local bruiser called Benor - he assumed through his size he could beat me. Reader, do not challenge a Khajit to fight unarmed. Using my claws I was able to easily best him, and have since taken him into my service. I sent Lydia home, and now have a more powerful, if less pleasant to look at, companion. He is also... considerably less witty – but that swing of a warhammer more than makes up for it.
I think I shall include a picture of he atop a small mountain I recently climbed - ah, listen to me, I have been here to long! Small mountain...
Friday, November 18, 2011
23rd of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader. I delight in telling you I did successfully make my why to the greybeards- I found a way to avoid the passage where the troll lay in wait. The greybeards helped me to understand much, which I greatly appreciate. However, I was infuriated by their refusal to teach me much that they know! Why would they hide so many of these powerful words from me? They say the power would corrupt me - nonsense! The foolish old men simply are jealous of my abilities. The trials I am facing, and the tasks I have been given, require me to be as capable as possible. It is as if I am expected to save all of Tamriel and they have broken my legs!
But I shall calm down, dear reader, as there is nothing which can be done now. After leaving the greybeards, I slid my way down the mountain and rested at a nearby inn. I came across a young bard, who had a nice song about Redbeard or some other Nord sounding name. After talking with him, he told me of his affections for the sister of a local storekeeper who I had previously helped retrieve a token shaped like a dragonclaw (she was quite pretty, and I had considered pursuing her myself). He asked me to deliver a slandering letter written as by a local elf who was also vying for her love. After some hesitance... I ultimately agreed. Though I feel somewhat sick about the whole business. He seemed a good man, and like me, he also supports the Imperial Legion.
This brings me to my current business. I have decided to tell you where I stand on the war. By the time you read this it will be over, so what does it matter? I strongly support the empires attempt to control the rebellion. While I have some sympathy for the rebel cause, and believe they should be able to worship as they wish, law and order cannot simply be cast aside at will. The empire has brought prosperity and success to this region, and without it, I do not believe these people would live in the paradise they envision. On top of all this, I hear that the rebels seek to expel all non-Nords from Skyrim. This is unacceptable. All should be allowed to live everywhere, and discrimination against men based on their ancestry is a terrible fault. I cannot support such an endeavor.
For this reason, I am now on my way to join the Imperial Legion, which is headquarted down in the marshes. Wish me luck good reader!
Oh, one more thing. On my way here, I came across a group of Khajit traders outside a town. This was the most wonderful experience! It is so pleasant to be able to commune with my brethren, and such wise and cunning cats at that. There were several excellent female Khajit among them to - but that is a tale for a different journal.
But I shall calm down, dear reader, as there is nothing which can be done now. After leaving the greybeards, I slid my way down the mountain and rested at a nearby inn. I came across a young bard, who had a nice song about Redbeard or some other Nord sounding name. After talking with him, he told me of his affections for the sister of a local storekeeper who I had previously helped retrieve a token shaped like a dragonclaw (she was quite pretty, and I had considered pursuing her myself). He asked me to deliver a slandering letter written as by a local elf who was also vying for her love. After some hesitance... I ultimately agreed. Though I feel somewhat sick about the whole business. He seemed a good man, and like me, he also supports the Imperial Legion.
This brings me to my current business. I have decided to tell you where I stand on the war. By the time you read this it will be over, so what does it matter? I strongly support the empires attempt to control the rebellion. While I have some sympathy for the rebel cause, and believe they should be able to worship as they wish, law and order cannot simply be cast aside at will. The empire has brought prosperity and success to this region, and without it, I do not believe these people would live in the paradise they envision. On top of all this, I hear that the rebels seek to expel all non-Nords from Skyrim. This is unacceptable. All should be allowed to live everywhere, and discrimination against men based on their ancestry is a terrible fault. I cannot support such an endeavor.
For this reason, I am now on my way to join the Imperial Legion, which is headquarted down in the marshes. Wish me luck good reader!
Oh, one more thing. On my way here, I came across a group of Khajit traders outside a town. This was the most wonderful experience! It is so pleasant to be able to commune with my brethren, and such wise and cunning cats at that. There were several excellent female Khajit among them to - but that is a tale for a different journal.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
22nd of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader. I am currently stored up in a small inn at the foot of the mountain on top which the greybeards sit (I forget its name, and am to embarrassed to ask). It is very nice to be inside by a warm fire - it is snowing and quite nasty here. It is quite a nice inn I must say, and there is a lute playing girl here who's neckline draws my eye very well - I complimented her on her playing, which elicited a nice giggle from her.
More seriously, reader, my suspicions proved entirely correct concerning the village - bandits had taken it over, and I was forced to fight through them as when I escaped the dragon. They did have some excellent ale among their things, which I enjoyed greatly, if a bit to quickly.
After fighting my way through the underground tunnels beneath the village, I made my way to this mountain. There was much excellent hunting along the way, and I had a very enjoyable time watching a pack of wolves hunt down a herd off elk.
I ultimately made my way to this town and started up the "7,000 steps," the path leading to where the greybeards live. I found the most interesting monuments along this path, which appear to tell the origin of men and dragons in this area, which I believe is where men first came to Tamriel.
Alas, I came across a Frost Troll, who apparently can regenerate its health, a power I was unable to overcome. I retreated back to the town, and will attempt to gain some better equipment and skills before attacking the beast again.
I have included two depctions of myself: one in full gear while climbing a mountain on the way here, and another of me relaxing in this very inn. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go see what the lute girl's preferred drink is.
More seriously, reader, my suspicions proved entirely correct concerning the village - bandits had taken it over, and I was forced to fight through them as when I escaped the dragon. They did have some excellent ale among their things, which I enjoyed greatly, if a bit to quickly.
After fighting my way through the underground tunnels beneath the village, I made my way to this mountain. There was much excellent hunting along the way, and I had a very enjoyable time watching a pack of wolves hunt down a herd off elk.
I ultimately made my way to this town and started up the "7,000 steps," the path leading to where the greybeards live. I found the most interesting monuments along this path, which appear to tell the origin of men and dragons in this area, which I believe is where men first came to Tamriel.
Alas, I came across a Frost Troll, who apparently can regenerate its health, a power I was unable to overcome. I retreated back to the town, and will attempt to gain some better equipment and skills before attacking the beast again.
I have included two depctions of myself: one in full gear while climbing a mountain on the way here, and another of me relaxing in this very inn. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go see what the lute girl's preferred drink is.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
21th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings again dear reader. I have been making my way towards these Greybeards, finding myself in the midst of crossing over an enormous mountain. This level of height and cold I cannot describe as anything but unnatural. I am writing to you from outside the gates of the village from where I earlier escaped a dragon attack, and execution. As I approached, the area seemed calm and deserted, but as I came closer I saw a body displayed on a spear outside the gates - as you could imagine, dear reader, I am now quite concerned. Not long ago I encountered two bandits which I was forced to kill, along with the help of Lydia.
I suppose I should now give an account of my standing for combat. Currently I accompanied by Lydia, a companion gifted from the Jarl of Whiterun, whom I have previously mentioned, upon him declaring me a Thane, apparently a sort of honorable noble. She is a capable fighter with sword and bow, and pleasant enough company. I have attempted to have discussions of an intimate nature with her, but she will only talk business, for now.
I was also given a steel war axe enchanted with a burning spell by the Jarl, which I typically use with a fire spell in the other hand, thus compounding the damage for both. My bow is an ancient Nord piece, which refined at a grindstone in Whiterun.
I wear two pieces of armor I enchanted myself. The first is a piece is a helmet which increases my magic regeneration that I call the “Helm of Destruction,” as that is my primary school of magecraft. It was originally cast of iron with long, curling horns on each side. I must say, it does seem so much the right style for this place and the trials I am going through. I also use a piece of steal armor I enchanted to increase my health I call Breathrise. I am currently in Iron boots and occasionally use a shield which increases my magic resistance that I found in the wild. Perhaps in a future entry I will include a depiction of myself and my comrades, as I have some skill as an artist.
Before I leave, I must tell you, I was enraged to find a fine book on the art of combat among the bandits possessions. I assume the criminal vermin were incapable of reading it. I did not learn to read until a few years ago. Since then, finding and reading new books has brought me more pleasure than perhaps any other part of my journeys. To be entertained, inspired, educated, and given often knowledge about the skills I have needed to accomplish the things I have done! The joy!
I will end this rant and leave now to examine this village - wish me a safe return good reader! May your reading of this book bring you the pleasure I find in others!
I suppose I should now give an account of my standing for combat. Currently I accompanied by Lydia, a companion gifted from the Jarl of Whiterun, whom I have previously mentioned, upon him declaring me a Thane, apparently a sort of honorable noble. She is a capable fighter with sword and bow, and pleasant enough company. I have attempted to have discussions of an intimate nature with her, but she will only talk business, for now.
I was also given a steel war axe enchanted with a burning spell by the Jarl, which I typically use with a fire spell in the other hand, thus compounding the damage for both. My bow is an ancient Nord piece, which refined at a grindstone in Whiterun.
I wear two pieces of armor I enchanted myself. The first is a piece is a helmet which increases my magic regeneration that I call the “Helm of Destruction,” as that is my primary school of magecraft. It was originally cast of iron with long, curling horns on each side. I must say, it does seem so much the right style for this place and the trials I am going through. I also use a piece of steal armor I enchanted to increase my health I call Breathrise. I am currently in Iron boots and occasionally use a shield which increases my magic resistance that I found in the wild. Perhaps in a future entry I will include a depiction of myself and my comrades, as I have some skill as an artist.
Before I leave, I must tell you, I was enraged to find a fine book on the art of combat among the bandits possessions. I assume the criminal vermin were incapable of reading it. I did not learn to read until a few years ago. Since then, finding and reading new books has brought me more pleasure than perhaps any other part of my journeys. To be entertained, inspired, educated, and given often knowledge about the skills I have needed to accomplish the things I have done! The joy!
I will end this rant and leave now to examine this village - wish me a safe return good reader! May your reading of this book bring you the pleasure I find in others!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
20th of Last Seed, 4E 201
Greetings dear reader. I do not now know what your reason for reading this is, or how you came across it - I cannot say I am sure why I am writing this. What I do know is that the events I have found myself involved in call for an account to be kept.
I find myself in the province of Skyrim. I do not find the climate welcoming. Just a few days ago I thought my life had reached its end - a peril I seem not to have escaped. In short, I was arrested and nearly executed, when a man named Ulfric, apparently the leader of many Nords here attempting to rebel against the Empire, seemingly summoned a dragon (yes, a true dragon. I would not believe it myself if I had not seen it with my own eyes) which attacked the party of soldiers holding me, allowing me to escape with the assistance of a kind guard who recognized the injustice.
I ultimately found my way to a city called Whiterun, where I became close to town’s chief, or “Jarl” as he is known in this land, named Balgruuf (I apparently cannot pronounce his name correctly as the Nords do - whether this is by ignorance of the correct sounds or incapability of my lips and tongue, I do not know). After helping the Jarl’s troops in fighting off an attack by another dragon, I somehow drew power from the dragon, and learned that I was “dragonborn.”
I suppose I should pause here and explain for a moment who I am. My name is Perk Desertwalker. I am a proud Khajit, though I was born in the Imperial City in Cyrodil. My surname shows my pride in my people, as it means “Khajit” in the Imperial tongue. How I came to be arrested in Skyrim and the origins of my life is a tale for another time, if ever. Suffice it to say, I have done things I am not proud of, and I will continue to pay for them likely for the remainder of my life. I have lived 24 years, during which I have done a great many things. I beg the poor reader’s forgiveness, as I have only recently gained my writing and have spent much of my life without learning, and thus do not speak as well as some other men, and often slip my pen, though I try and repair my error when I can.
Now, back to my tale. I do not yet know exactly what me being dragonborn means, but what I have gathered is that when I kill a dragon, I can take in some of its power (and dragons are such powerful beasts), learning what these men call “shouts,” powerful spells which I cast with my voice. Looking back, I suppose this explains some things - I have always been interested and capable in magic (as I am with a bow and sword, Alkosh chide me for boasting), much more so than most Khajit. Perhaps this explains why. For whatever reason, I have this power, and am now on my way to speak to the Greybeards, elders which seem to be the Mane of this land.
I find myself in the province of Skyrim. I do not find the climate welcoming. Just a few days ago I thought my life had reached its end - a peril I seem not to have escaped. In short, I was arrested and nearly executed, when a man named Ulfric, apparently the leader of many Nords here attempting to rebel against the Empire, seemingly summoned a dragon (yes, a true dragon. I would not believe it myself if I had not seen it with my own eyes) which attacked the party of soldiers holding me, allowing me to escape with the assistance of a kind guard who recognized the injustice.
I ultimately found my way to a city called Whiterun, where I became close to town’s chief, or “Jarl” as he is known in this land, named Balgruuf (I apparently cannot pronounce his name correctly as the Nords do - whether this is by ignorance of the correct sounds or incapability of my lips and tongue, I do not know). After helping the Jarl’s troops in fighting off an attack by another dragon, I somehow drew power from the dragon, and learned that I was “dragonborn.”
I suppose I should pause here and explain for a moment who I am. My name is Perk Desertwalker. I am a proud Khajit, though I was born in the Imperial City in Cyrodil. My surname shows my pride in my people, as it means “Khajit” in the Imperial tongue. How I came to be arrested in Skyrim and the origins of my life is a tale for another time, if ever. Suffice it to say, I have done things I am not proud of, and I will continue to pay for them likely for the remainder of my life. I have lived 24 years, during which I have done a great many things. I beg the poor reader’s forgiveness, as I have only recently gained my writing and have spent much of my life without learning, and thus do not speak as well as some other men, and often slip my pen, though I try and repair my error when I can.
Now, back to my tale. I do not yet know exactly what me being dragonborn means, but what I have gathered is that when I kill a dragon, I can take in some of its power (and dragons are such powerful beasts), learning what these men call “shouts,” powerful spells which I cast with my voice. Looking back, I suppose this explains some things - I have always been interested and capable in magic (as I am with a bow and sword, Alkosh chide me for boasting), much more so than most Khajit. Perhaps this explains why. For whatever reason, I have this power, and am now on my way to speak to the Greybeards, elders which seem to be the Mane of this land.
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