I left off last time speaking of dragons. A week ago, I'd have laughed at anyone who told me I would be fighting dragons. But I DID in fact fight one. I rejoiced as my blade hacked at that monster. He breathed flame, he snapped icy jaws of death... and I took his head from his body and howled at the sky.
For a moment, I think I almost knew what it was to be a Nord. At any rate, I was the hero of the hour! When one of the men clapped me on a wound, though, I let out a shout. Or should I say "Shout"? Men stumbled from the force of my voice! How awesome is that, right?
Next thing I know, I've been surrounded while a guard talks about Dragonborn! Me? A Dark Elf? The gods must be joking! Especially here, amongst the Talos Worshippers of Skyrim. It's almost an assault on their beliefs. Which, now that I think about it, they need. So never mind! Let the Gods' sense of humor reign!
I strode into town, triumphant. I announced our victory to the Jarl... he gave me a nice axe (which I promptly put on the enchanting table to learn its secrets. A small hobby of mine, I'm sure he'll never notice.) He named me Thane for being such a hero, which I considered a kind gesture. Then I find out I have to travel SEVEN THOUSAND STEPS into the air. Hello? I have feet for a reason! I don't want to go into the AIR!
At least I got a nice house. I was able to store many things in there... things like the bits of metal and leather I'd picked up on my journey. I also was given a servant... Lydia. I'm not sure what to make of Lydia... she is pretty enough, but so sarcastic. Her respect for the dead is typical of Nords as well... she has none.
At least she can protect my home, now that I've gotten the furniture arranged.
` Ei'lor Yidhra
Thane of Whiterun
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Day 2 - Relaxation?
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
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
Day 1 - Hell Hath No Fury
Dear Journal;
My name is Ei'lor Yidhra. I want people to remember this name, because I do not seem all that memorable upon first sight. My eyes seem blind, there is a scar on my cheek. Other than this, there is nothing extraordinary about me. I do not stand out from other Dark Elves.
And before today, I would have said I was no one noteworthy. I'd picked up a few smithing tricks in my lifetime, I could wield a blade alright... but I was just another elf trying to find a home.
Until I crossed the border into Nord Country, and found myself arrested! Arrested! Can you believe it? "Everything will be fine, I didn't do anything!" That's what I keep telling myself throughout the next two days you see... until I find out that my wagon-mates are none other than the infamous Stormcloaks. And not just any stormcloaks! Ulfric and his damned bodyguards! Well DAMN!
Needless to say, we were all getting our heads taken in Helgen. No ifs ands or buts about it. I had resigned myself to it by the time we came to a halt. I watched someone's head roll into a basket, and then I heard them say it was my turn. Lovely. At least it would be a quick death, right?
They didn't even move his body! Such sickening behavior. Uncivilized! I could not believe that they were not at least going to move his body to the side. I had to actually lay on him in order to get my head in the proper position. Just then... BAM. Dragon saves my dark skin! A dragon! Can you believe it?
Long story short, I fled with an Imperial guardsman. He untied my bindings, got me geared up, and we battled our way through the bowels of Helgen Keep. We found our way out, and made our way to Riverwood. Well I was able to make some coins through selling some of the loot, and then I made a few things for Alvor. That got me enough money to make or buy some steel armor. If I must be in a brutal land, I will at least be protected!
I decided to check the general store, and I find that it's been broken into! And there is coin in finding the item that was stolen! Some... golden claw thing. So I agree to go looking. And now, Journal, as I sit here resting after many battles, I find myself scrubbing Draugr blood off my blade. And I find myself contemplating life.
If nothing else, Journal... let it be said that I respect the dead. I at least take the time to lay them respectfully to the side after a fight. I also untwist their mangled bodies, so perhaps their dark souls may find peace. Or at the least... not haunt me.
Ei'lor Yidhra
My name is Ei'lor Yidhra. I want people to remember this name, because I do not seem all that memorable upon first sight. My eyes seem blind, there is a scar on my cheek. Other than this, there is nothing extraordinary about me. I do not stand out from other Dark Elves.
And before today, I would have said I was no one noteworthy. I'd picked up a few smithing tricks in my lifetime, I could wield a blade alright... but I was just another elf trying to find a home.
Until I crossed the border into Nord Country, and found myself arrested! Arrested! Can you believe it? "Everything will be fine, I didn't do anything!" That's what I keep telling myself throughout the next two days you see... until I find out that my wagon-mates are none other than the infamous Stormcloaks. And not just any stormcloaks! Ulfric and his damned bodyguards! Well DAMN!
Needless to say, we were all getting our heads taken in Helgen. No ifs ands or buts about it. I had resigned myself to it by the time we came to a halt. I watched someone's head roll into a basket, and then I heard them say it was my turn. Lovely. At least it would be a quick death, right?
They didn't even move his body! Such sickening behavior. Uncivilized! I could not believe that they were not at least going to move his body to the side. I had to actually lay on him in order to get my head in the proper position. Just then... BAM. Dragon saves my dark skin! A dragon! Can you believe it?
Long story short, I fled with an Imperial guardsman. He untied my bindings, got me geared up, and we battled our way through the bowels of Helgen Keep. We found our way out, and made our way to Riverwood. Well I was able to make some coins through selling some of the loot, and then I made a few things for Alvor. That got me enough money to make or buy some steel armor. If I must be in a brutal land, I will at least be protected!
I decided to check the general store, and I find that it's been broken into! And there is coin in finding the item that was stolen! Some... golden claw thing. So I agree to go looking. And now, Journal, as I sit here resting after many battles, I find myself scrubbing Draugr blood off my blade. And I find myself contemplating life.
If nothing else, Journal... let it be said that I respect the dead. I at least take the time to lay them respectfully to the side after a fight. I also untwist their mangled bodies, so perhaps their dark souls may find peace. Or at the least... not haunt me.
Ei'lor Yidhra
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