So, there I was. I handed Lucan the golden claw... I got some money... I related my tales of adventure and he was properly grateful. Nice to see that some manners exist in this barbaric land. I spent the night at the inn and kept to myself. Nice as everyone in Riverwood seems, no point in drawing attention to myself.
The sleeping in a bed was nice.
In the morning, I said my farewells and began my journey towards Whiterun. I was to speak to some fancy leader... what they call a Jarl. I was to tell him of what happened at Helgen.. though I doubt I'll mention how I was to lose my head. Frankly, that's just inviting trouble. There is much here in Skyrim that could use fixing. I've decided I may stay. If nothing else, I'm good at kill Draugr. And the dead could use decency in their demise. I've noticed many bodies just laying everywhere. Disease and disrespect, that's all that means.
The truly annoying part is, after I handed over the Dragonstone they were looking for, a damned dragon showed up. I must be cursed. So I'm off to go kill it. If I die, I hope someone keeps this journal... It would be nice to be remembered.
- Ei'lor Yidhra
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