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.