The Thief in the Snow - Entry XXI: Your Child Sent

The Thief in The Snow
Entry XXI: Your Child Sent
Windhelm, Eastmarch
Tirdas, 2nd of Heartfire, 4E 201

I was unsure if I would be able to enter Windhelm, for my title as Thane of Whiterun would not aid me here. While Jarl Balgruuf held a neutral position in Skyrim's Civil War, he did have a working relationship with the Empire but this was not the case with the Stormcloaks. As I walked down the snow-covered path and then onto the icy bridge that led to Windhelm, I was greeted by the guards. They hailed me as Dragonborn and welcomed me into the “heart of all true Nords.” Apparently news of my arrival in Riften had already spread north to Eastmarch. This made me wonder if the other Stormcloak aligned holds also knew of my presence in the area. I had little time to ponder this for the guards opened the towering wood gate and ushered me inside.

I was greeted by the spine tingling sensation of cold. Icy air hit my face, my paws pressed against frozen stone, and there was a frigid aura that seeped out of the city. As I approached the local tavern, I overheard an argument brewing nearby. Two Nords were harassing someone they called “gray-skin” and chiding her for not siding with the Stormcloaks. This “gray-skin” was a female Dunmer and she stated that this was not their war to fight. The Nords then went as far as to accuse the Dunmer of being an Imperial spy. They then threatened violence, at this point I felt I had to step in but a third Nord beat me to it. He quickly broke up the argument, calling for peace from both sides. The Nord was called Brunwulf Free-Winter and the reception he received from the arguing party made me surmise that he was a powerful man in Windhelm.

Brunwulf easily dispatched the small crowd by admonishing the Nords for treating the Dunmer so abhorrently. Afterall, Jarl Ulfric allowed them to dwell in the city. After the two Nords left, Brunwulf spoke to the Dunmer and also chastised her for encouraging the conversation to flare. After she apologized and left, Brunwulf turned to me with a look of surprise on his face, a look I was very accustomed to seeing. I introduced myself but Brunwulf was already familiar with tales of my adventures in Whiterun. Brunwulf warned me to be careful in Windhelm for not everyone would be so welcoming. I asked about the cause of the argument and he explained that Dunmer and other non-Nord inhabitants of the city were segregated and forced to live in the Gray Quarter. Brunwulf disagreed with this and had brought up the issue many times to Jarl Ulfric, but the Stormcloak was too busy planning his war against the Empire.

I bid Brunwulf good day and continued to my destination, the White Phial in the market district, to find a lost Soul Gem. Wylaniah, the Court Wizard of Riften, had requested that I retrieve the item she left behind on her last visit to the city. Since I had made the hard journey to the north, I did not mind running this simple errand for her. I also hoped that gaining favor with Jarl Laila Law-Giver’s Court Wizard would also increase my standing with the Jarl as well. I made my way to the marketplace and spied a couple of guards patrolling the area. I was careful of my actions, making sure not to loiter too long at a stall or stare at the wrong person, for any minor slight and I would be arrested. I had no friends here to protect me and I felt that the guards were just waiting for an excuse to make trouble.

I finally located the White Phial, Windhelm’s local alchemy shop, which was located towards the back of the market district. Like all the buildings in Windhelm, its structure was made of stone making its appearance feel uninviting and cold. Inside, there was an old Atlmer who I took to be the owner, sick in the back. His assistant was helping him and though I tried to get his attention, he simply waved me away. I did not wish to disturb them any further and when I spied Wylaniah’s satchel on a shelf, I collected the Soul Gem and went on my way. Back outside in the marketplace, I overheard the locals discussing a string of recent murders including the murder of a Nord named Frigga. The news disturbed me and I knew that I must finish my business in Windhelm as quickly as possible and return to Riften at once.

I passed a Nord beggar near the marketplace named Silda the Unseen. I offered her a few Septims in hopes that she could use them to fight the harsh winter weather. I asked nothing in return but she informed me of some news that she thought I might be interested in. The recent murders had begun a few weeks back when a woman named Naalia Aretino was murdered in a back alley. She left a son named Aventus who was shipped to Honorhall Orphanage in Riften. The Aretino Residence was condemned but only a few days ago, there appeared to be life in the house. Aventus Aretino had run away from Riften and was now locked inside of his old home. Late at night, strange sounds could be heard coming from the dwelling which the locals could only explain by saying Aventus had gone mad with grief. Silda had another reason, that the boy was practicing the Black Sacrament to summon the Dark Brotherhood, in hopes of contracting an assassination.

I arrived at the dilapidated house just as the sun had slipped behind the mountains. I knocked but there was no answer. I knew that someone was inside for I could hear murmuring through the door. Rote words were being chanted within the dwelling, over and over they were recited like a child’s nursery rhyme. I procured a lockpick and silently went to work. I easily unlocked the door and entered the Aretino residence. Inside, I found the house in utter disarray. Furniture was overturned, the tableware was laying under the kitchen table, and rotten food had been trampled. I went farther into the house and found a crumpled letter lying at the foot of the stairs.

‘Master Aventus Aretino,

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak wishes to express his deepest sympathies at the death of your mother, Naalia.

Unfortunately, because you are fatherless, and have no other known relations, the Jarl cannot allow you to remain in your home unsupervised. Therefore, in no more than a week’s time, you are to report to Honorhall Orphanage in Rifen, where you will reside until your sixteenth birthday.

The Aretino family home in the city of Windhelm will, of course, remain your property. The building will be securely locked and ready for your return six years hence.

Note that I am unsure of the education provided to you by your recently deceased mother, or if you possess the ability to read the letter I am currently composing. therefore, a member of the city guard will call upon you in one week, at your home, and provide escort to the orphanage. Hopefully, his arrival will not come as a complete shock.

With greatest respect,

Jorleif
Steward to our most noble Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak’

If the state of his house was any indicator, It appeared as if Aventus violently resisted his escort to Honorhall Orphanage. It must have been extremely difficult for him, to suddenly lose his mother and his home all at the same time. Grelod the Kind was no help either, her harsh treatment would make anyone wish for her death. Still, the rumors that Aventus was trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood seemed like an extreme course of action to take. As if to answer my questioning thoughts, I heard a voice falling from the second floor. The voice was that of a young boy who was chanting a dark prayer.

“Die, Grelod! Die! Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.”

I knew the words but had never uttered them. They were the words of the Black Sacrament, the ritual to summon the Dark Brotherhood. The ritual to request that someone be killed. If the Night Mother heard the pleas of the invoker of the Sacrament, she would relay the request to her Listener who in turn, would choose a member of the Dark Brotherhood to fulfill the kill. The words alone were not enough to complete the Black Sacrament. An effigy must be created in the likeness of the intended victim and assembled from a real body. A skull, a heart, bones, and flesh were all needed for the dark ritual. The effigy was then to be encircled with candles. Once this effigy was in place, the invoker needed to stab the effigy repeatedly with a dagger bathed in Nightshade while reciting the prayer.

“Die, Grelod! Die! Please… how long must I do this? I keep praying, Night Mother. Why will you not answer me?”

I heard Aventus again as I stealthily made my way up the staircase. I reached the second floor and inched my way towards Aventus’ pleading voice. I spied him in the back bedroom, shakily clutching a silver dagger. He plunged it into the heart and tried to remove it again, only for the blade to become lodged. Aventus jerked back on the handle as hard as he could and fell backward in the pool of blood that had accumulated underneath him. A sickening thought crossed my mind, ‘maybe this boy is the one that has been murdering women in Windhelm.’ The boy slumped down, exhausted and frustrated that his prayers to the Night Mother had not been unanswered. That was until Aventus turned around and saw me standing over him.

“You have come at last! I knew you would!” he exclaimed with excitement as he jumped to his feet.

“Is this one alright?” I inquired.

“It worked! I knew you would come, I just knew it!” Aventus cried with a grin. “I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body and the… the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!”

I remained silent.

“You do not have to say anything. There is no need. You are here, so I know you will accept my contract.” Aventus stated matter of factly.

“Contract?” I quizzed.

Aventus slowly began to explain, “My mother, she… died. I… I am all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she is not kind. She is terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, came home. And performed the Black Sacrament. Now, you are here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind! Please hurry. To be honest, I am kind of lonely here. As much as I hated getting sent to Honorhall, I really miss my friends there…”

I left the boy, who was still standing in a pool of blood, without saying another word. I sprinted down the staircase, burst through the door, and fled through the streets of Windhelm until I was at the city’s main gate. I was unsure of what to do. The job was easy enough, killing Grelod the Kind was something I could do blindfolded. It was supposedly a Dark Brotherhood contract and at first I pondered if it was wise to steal this job from them. Then I remembered that Aventus had been performing the Black Sacrament for days now and no one had answered him. It was not like I even believed that the Night Mother existed, she was probably just some tale spun to scare children into obeying their parents. Nevertheless, I found myself at an impasse not sure if I should grant the boy’s prayers or just move onto another job. One thing was for sure, I still had work to do in Riften. Without further delay, I left the cold lands of Eastmarch and traveled south towards The Rift.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XX: From Far Places

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XX: From Far Places
Location: The Rift Valleys, The Rift
Date: Morndas, 1st of Heartfire, 4E 201

There was still quite a bit of light left in the day when I left Riften and ventured towards Windhelm. I am not sure why I was determined to put an end to Grelod the Kind’s rule of Honorhall Orphanage. I, myself, never had much of a childhood. I never knew my parents and was raised by a Khajiit Caravan that brought me from Elsweyr into Cyrodiil. I had worked for the caravan since I could remember until it was attacked and most of the members were killed. I spent my youth in the cities of Leyawiin and Bravil before settling in the Waterfront district of the Imperial City. Maybe it was because of this that the mistreatment of children bothered me so. No matter the reason, I was resolved to find Aventus Aretino and convince him to testify before Jarl Laila about the crimes of Grelod the Kind. If I could get the support of Constance Michel, Grelod’s assistant, I was sure that the Jarl would be spurred into action.

As I travelled north along the main stone road out of Riften, I came across Shor’s Watchtower, a lookout point for spotting Imperial Legion troops in the area. My time in Riften almost made me forget that there was a Civil War brewing and that skirmishes had broken out across Skyrim. When I approached the tower, I realized that it was not manned by any guards. This was striking for Shor’s Watchtower was a major defensive position. I cautiously entered the tower with daggers drawn only to find that I had missed all the fighting. Inside, there were signs of a battle and four Riften guards laid dead. The bodies were too badly decomposed for me to discern what killed them but I found a note that indicated the Imperial Legion was close by. As I exited the watchtower, I saw a passerby and told him to go straight to Riften with the news of the dead guards. I left out the note about the Imperial forces, for what reason I am not sure, but I urged the passerby to go with haste.

With the message in transit, I continued examining the surrounding area of the watchtower in hopes of finding some clues. Instead, I came across a ferocious Troll. I already knew what these creatures were capable of when I fought one on my way to Ivarstead so I knew I had to tread carefully. I drew my bow and began pelting the creature’s hide with as many arrows as possible. The Troll seemed unhindered by the dozen arrows sticking out of his chest so I changed my target and aimed for his eyes. It took me three attempts before an arrow found its target. With the creature reeling in pain, I was able to close the distance between us, draw my daggers, and plunge them into its neck. It collapsed with a growl and then laid still. I collected what arrows were still salvageable and then continued on my journey north. I could not help questioning if the Legion had killed the guards at Shor’s Watchtower or if it was really the Troll who attacked them.

Location: Eastmarch Tundras, Eastmarch
Date: Morndas, 1st of Heartfire, 4E 201

I passed into the domain of Eastmarch as I journeyed towards its capital, Windhelm. It was much colder than the Rift and I found drifts of snow beginning to collect on the ground. As I wandered north, I discovered a giants’ camp called Steamcrag and near it, a dead Khajiit inside a broken wagon. She must have been a member of a caravan but I was sure she was attacked by something other than a giant for they were generally docile creatures. As if to voice that my deduction was correct, I heard a roar of a dragon in the distance. I made the decision not to linger for fear of getting attacked by a dragon. It was one thing when I had Irileth and her guards with me but to face a dragon alone; that was something I did not want to do.

As I continued northward, I came across a farmer heading the opposite direction. I inquired if he had any news and he told me that he was headed to Solitude to join the Legion. This surprised me but he informed me that he felt Ulfric had gone mad and that Skyrim needed to stay united with the Empire if we ever had any hopes of breaking free from the Aldmeri Dominion. I warned him of the dragon and he thanked me for the information before heading south. As I marched forward, I discovered geysers releasing hot steam high into the air. The geysers were connected to a nearby hot springs. The sulfuric scent was reminiscent of the Hjaalmarch Marshes. As I was watching the geysers spew their contents high into the air, a patrol of Stormcloaks passed me by. I could have snitched on the farmer and sent the Stormcloaks after him for a nice reward but I kept my mouth shut. There are a few things in the world worth more than money, not many, but there are a few.

It was late and I was still far from Windhelm but nevertheless, I continued my trek north through the thickening snow. Eventually, I had to stop and make camp for the ice filled air was impeding my progress significantly. I built a fire and prepared to settle in for the rest of the night when I suddenly found myself surrounded. I sprung to my feet with daggers readied only to be greeted by a very familiar accent. A dark Khajiit dressed in fine clothes slowly approached me with hands opened in peace. She introduced herself as Ahkari, the pawnbroker for a caravan that traveled between Dawnstar and Riften. She, along with her other companions, were headed south when the weather closed in around them. She asked if they could take shelter near my fire. I sheathed my weapons and welcomed them into my makeshift camp. Zaynabi, the caravan’s scout, told me that she had seen the embers of my fire from the road. Dro’marash added that he planned on killing the occupants of the camp and taking it over for the caravan. Kharjo interjected that Dro’marash was only joking and that Ahkari would never allow them to attack innocent travelers.

I asked them how well their business was doing and Ahkari informed me that many refused to talk to them, calling them thieves and smugglers. I could only nod my head in agreement for I had faced the same in my early days in Whiterun. I asked if she always had trouble with the locals and the Khajiit replied that it was mostly the Nords. They did not like outsiders in their land which is why the Jarls forbade them to enter the cities. Many Nords only saw the Khajiit as pickpockets and Skooma dealers. Ahkari continued that it was unfair but that they did their best to ignore the comments. I also inquired if she had been in Skyrim for long but she replied that she had only recently arrived. She had become ‘unwelcome’ in Elsweyr and Cyrodiil so she sought a new life here. When I raised a skeptical eyebrow, she only stated that she seemed to have an unfortunate talent for getting involved in misunderstandings with the law. Ahkari continued that Ri’saad was able to look past that, and it was he who helped her set up a trade caravan. Now Ahkari and the others work for him in Skyrim. I told her that I knew Ri’saad well for my home was in Whiterun. They all perked their ears when they heard this and I could only shrug. I vaguely conveyed that I was allowed inside the city gates because I served the Jarl a few times. Zaynabi gasped and Dro’marash slapped me on the back, exclaiming how amazing it was that a Khajiit had not only spoken to a Jarl but was serving him as well. They asked me to share stories of my exploits, which I did while leaving out the bits about slaying a dragon and using Thu’ums, until the others were tired enough to finally sleep.

Kharjo was still awake though so we quietly talked into the night, doing our best not to wake the others. I quizzed him about his job with the caravan and he answered that he was hired to protect it as they walked the roads of Skyrim. It was a thankless task, he continued, and that he would rather be back home in Elsweyr but he had little choice. When I questioned further, he only stated that Ahkari had freed him from a prison in Cyrodiil and now he must repay the debt to her. I asked if they always traveled so heavily protected, motioning to the weapons Kharjo and Dro’marash carried. Kharjo answered that bandits harassed the caravans but that they usually scared them off. He told me how they were ambushed only a few days ago. The marauders were a mere nuisance but they had quick fingers and one of them stole his Moon Amulet. I asked Kharjo what the significance of this amulet was and he told me that it was given to him by his mother when he was just a cub. It was the only memory of home that he had in this cold land. I offered to track it down for him and he responded with telling me I was kind to offer my help. He pointed out where he thought the marauders were headquartered on my map but he also warned me to be careful. Kharjo advised that while he missed his amulet, a life cannot be easily replaced. After chatting more about our escapades drinking and gambling, we finally turned in for the night.

Location: Eastmarch Tundras, Eastmarch
Date: Tirdas, 2nd of Heartfire, 4E 201

We all rose early in the morning, so early that the sun was not even over the mountains yet. As the caravan packed its things I bid Ahkari safe travels and reassured Kharjo that I would locate his amulet for him. They both gave me final bits of advice on the Nords to the north, cautioning me to be vigilant not only on the roads but near the cities as well. I did not tell them my plans of entering Windhelm but I thanked them for the concern and wished them warmth until we met again. I waited a moment as I watched the caravan disappear down the road before I picked up my supplies and turned north. I was not sure what I would find in Windhelm but I knew that I had to be wary. Ulfric Stormcloak had once again returned to his throne as Jarl after escaping death at the hands of the Imperials and a dragon. His fervor against outsiders in Skyrim was reaching new heights and I knew that Windhelm would not be safe for me. But as conspicuous as I was being a Khajiit in Skyrim, I needed to ensure that I did not accidentally meet the Gagged Man for I feared what might happen if he realized I was there in Helgen with him only months ago.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XIX: The Skooma Trade

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XIX: The Skooma Trade
Location: Riften, The Rift
Date: Morndas, 1st of Heartfire, 4E 201

My excursion back to Riften went smoothly. I encountered very little in the way of danger name but a few wary Nords who cursed me for being in their lands. I felt as unwelcomed in the Rift as I felt welcomed in Whiterun. Though I recalled that when I first arrived in Skyrim, I was looked upon with disdain, it had taken some time for the people to not only tolerate me but to embrace me as well. Still, there were many in Whiterun that disliked my presence, after all, Catfolk were members of the Aldmeri Dominion which made them instant enemies to the Nords. I was no lover of the Elves though and disliked the Aldmeri Dominion almost as much as the Northerners did. I wondered if I ever would be accepted completely in Skyrim. I thought back to Amren in Whiterun who to this day, is still seen as a foreigner even though he had lived almost all of his life here.

It was early morning and the sun shone brightly but there was a nip of coldness in the breeze. It was only Heartfire but here in Skyrim; winter came early to the southern holds and never left the northern ones. My plan was to stop in Riften to resupply and then continue north to Windhelm for a visit to Aventus Aretino’s house. I was not expecting to stay in Riften long but when I saw Wujeeta, high on Skooma and wandering the docks, I knew I had to intervene. Even though I never dealt with the substance, I still felt a sense of guilt that my people were the ones that often peddled the highly addictive narcotic. I gave the Argonian another Potion of Healing to try and stem the side effects before I attempted to learn the identity of her supplier. Her thoughts were broken and her words were muddled but I managed to discover that Sarthis Idren was her supplier.

I left Wujeeta where I found her and inquired around the docks, hoping to locate Idren. I went to the marketplace and found Snilf at his post near Marise Aravel’s stall. I queried the Nord for information on Idren and a location. At first he slyly avoided specifics until I jingled a pouch of Septims, only then did he give me the information I sought. Sarthis Idren was a Dunmer bandit who had taken up residence in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Snilf warned me that I had to be careful though, Idren had a few guards in his pocket and if they knew I was after the Skooma dealer, he would be informed and would disappear. I asked him why the Jarl had not done anything about this but the old Nord just shrugged his shoulders. I thanked him for his time with the pouch and then left to find this warehouse.

It only took me a couple of tries to pick the lock of the Riften Warehouse. When I entered, I startled a Dunmer and Nord into attacking me. I quickly surmised that the Dunmer must be Sarthis Idren and the Nord was his bodyguard. In the cramped quarters of the warehouse, the two suppliers could not maneuver as deftly as I could. The Nord was clumsy and practically fell on my daggers while Idren was a much more skilled fighter. Nonetheless, I was able to dodge his swinging sword and sink my dagger into his neck. With my two adversaries dead, I was able to explore the warehouse thoroughly. The warehouse was grimy and filled with trash, but there were no signs that Idren was making Skooma here. Then, I examined the dusty floors and saw footprints leading to one of the walls. Upon closer examination, I could see that the wall was actually a hidden door with a small keyhole. I went back to the Dunmer’s body and found a key in his satchel. I unlocked the door and discovered a small room with a wood table, an alchemy lab, and various supplies for creating Skooma. On the table, there were four bottles of Skooma and pouches filled with Moon Sugar and Nightshade. I collected the items with the intent to hand them over to the Jarl. I knew I could not trust any of the guards with these items nor could I leave them.

I hurried to Mistveil Keep, home of Jarl Laila Law-Giver and her family. She was one of two female Jarls in Skyrim, the other being Jarl Elisif the Fair of Solitude who inherited the title after her husband High King Torygg was killed. The guards were hesitant to let me in until I told them that I had located Sarthis Idren. They were familiar with the name and knew that the Jarl wanted him eradicated. When I entered the throne room of Mistveil Keep, I was surprised to be greeted by a Bosmer steward since the eastern holds were not especially fond of outsiders. The Wood Elf introduced herself as Anuriel and demanded why I had come to visit the Jarl. I told her that I had information about the Skooma supplier in Riften. The Jarl heard this and commanded me to approach and share what I knew. I made a slight bow as I drew near. Laila sat on her throne in a relaxed manner, much like Balgruuf did in Whiterun. I actually laughed in my head at how much Laila reminded me of Whiterun’s Jarl. While her hair was more reddish than golden, her mannerism and tone of voice were very similar to Balgruuf’s. I had to remember that while I had rapport with Balgruuf, this Jarl was unknown to me.

I explained to Jarl Laila that I met a few Skooma addicts and persuaded them to give me the name of their supplier. I purposely left out Wujeeta’s name for fear that she may be punished for buying the illegal substance. I then told the Jarl that I learned of Sarthis Idren’s involvement and was able to track his whereabouts to a warehouse near the docks. I entered with the plans to confront him but was attacked instead. After defeating the Dunmer, I collected his cache of Skooma supplies and brought them here to Mistveil Keep. I opened my satchel and placed it in front of the Jarl, the bottles of Skooma clinking as I did. Anuriel quickly called for the court wizard Wylandriah to take the satchel away and dispose of it.

Jarl Laila thanked me for the service I rendered to Riften and stated that she was glad to hear good news for a change. Then, she asked me if I would finish what I had started. I tilted my head quizzically and the Jarl motioned for her steward. As Anuriel approached, she was handed a letter which in turn, she gave to me. The Jarl explained that Sarthis Idren was just a spoke in the wheel and to truly stamp out the Skooma trade in Riften, I had to find the dealer. Jarl Laila declared that if I was able to exterminate these dealers, that she would consider allowing me to purchase property and become a citizen of Riften. I gave another bow and swore to do everything in my power to stop the Skooma trade. Outside of Mistveil Keep, I opened the note and read its contents.

‘Sarthis,

Just got in a shipment of Moon Sugar from Morrowind. We are refining it now, and the Skooma should be ready by the time you get to Cragslane Cavern. Bring the gold or do not show up at all.

Kilnyr’

Now I had a destination and a name in my quest to stop the Skooma trade and while I promised the Jarl I would complete this task, I still had my main goal to accomplish yet. I decided to leave Riften and set my sights on Windhelm in the hopes of tracking down Aventus Aretino and putting an end to Grelod the Kind.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XVIII: For Friends and For Honor

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XVIII: For Friends and For Honor
Location: Whiterun, Whiterun Hold
Date: Loredas, 30th of Last Seed, 4E 201

I traveled the long road and went back home to Whiterun. I had supplies I needed to drop off, goods to trade, potions to make, and weapons to mend. I also wanted to make sure things were in order before I went back to the Rift. After seeing Grelod the Kind’s treatment of the children at Honorhall Orphanage, I had made up my mind to visit Aventus Aretino in Windhelm and convince him to come back to Riften and speak before the Jarl. If I could also convince Constance to testify to the Jarl, then maybe Grelod the Kind could be put out of her misery. I was not sure if I could even enter Windhelm for Nords generally despised outsiders and a Khajiit was as ‘outside’ as you could get in Skyrim. It did not help that the Gagged Man, Ulfric Stormcloak, was the Jarl of Windhelm. He had been sentenced to death for murdering High King Torygg of Solitude but had escaped when the dragon attacked Helgen. I had seen him firsthand when I awoke in the wagon headed towards Helgen and later when I was fleeing the burning town. He had escaped like I did that day and was now sitting on his throne in Windhelm, commanding the Stormcloaks in their rebellion against the Empire. While Ulfric was viewed as a murderer in Solitude and the other holds loyal to the Empire, in the eastern Holds of Skyrim he was seen as a champion of the people.

I still had not devised a plan to enter Windhelm when I passed through the gates of Whiterun. The guards greeted me warmly and when I saw the paved streets of the city before me, a strange feeling came over me. ‘I have a home.’ The thought rung in my head, something I had never thought before. My first stop was at Warmaiden’s to repair my armor and to talk with Adrianne. I asked her if there was anything new happening in Whiterun since I had left and she reported that things had been calm considering that there had been more dragon sightings on the outskirts of the Hold. She also passed along a message from her father, Proventus, who wished to see me at Dragonsreach. When I was finished, I thanked her for the information and walked home. When I entered Breezehome, I was greeted by Lydia who again seemed surprised that I had survived my journey. I told my Housecarl that she should have more faith in the Thane of Whiterun. As I said this, I flexed my muscles and struck a pose which produced a fit of laughter from the Nord warrior.

Lydia then asked about my pilgrimage to the Seven Thousand Steps and if I had met the Greybeards. I was careful who I told about my ability to use Thu’ums. Jarl Balgruuf and his brother Hrongar knew of my abilities and even heard the Greybeards’ summons.  Balgruuf’s Housecarl, Irileth, and a few of her soldiers also saw me use my abilities to fight the dragon at the Western Watchtower. Lydia had heard the rumors of my abilities from the chatter amongst the Whiterun guards and I never admitted to being Dragonborn to her. Yet my Housecarl had a sharp mind and no secret could remain hidden from her. I related my adventures to her from the long hike to the Throat of the World and the Frost Troll to meeting the Greybeards and learning from them. I also told her about the Cultists that tried to kill me in Ivarstead, my travelling to Riften, and the Hired Thugs that attacked me there. She was awed by my ability to find enemies in a hold I had never been to before. I countered that it took an extraordinarily skilled warrior to create enemies wherever he travelled. Lydia inquired about my plans and I told her of Aretino in Windhelm and my hopes to get Grelod the Kind removed. She just shook her head and told me that I should focus on the task the Greybeards set me on but she knew that I was not one to do what I was told.

After bidding Lydia farewell with the command to protect Whiterun while I was gone, I walked through the Plains District towards the city’s marketplace. As I strolled past the various stalls with their goods on display, I heard Carlotta Valentia calling me over. She ran a produce stall that featured goods from Severio Pelagia’s farm. I knew Carlotta from my interactions with her daughter, Mila, who seemed to have taken a liking to me. Carlotta’s husband had died years ago when Mila was just a small child. A successful business woman and still very attractive, she was seen as an object of desire for most of the men in Whiterun. This caused Carlotta to be plagued with enamored suitors. When I approached her, I queried as to which so called ‘suitor’ was giving her trouble this time. She informed me that it was the Bannered Mare’s bard, Mikael, who was bothering her now. I assured her that she need not worry and I would go speak to him.

I entered the Bannered Mare and spotted Mikael easily. He was a slender Nord with sandy blonde hair done up in a hairstyle that would have looked better on a woman. He was serenading a patron with his songs and she was swooning at every bat of his long eyelashes. I could only shake my head as this self-proclaimed ‘enchanter of women’ continued his song. I waited until he was finished before calling him over. I asked what his intentions for Carlotta were and he stated that she was the most exquisite creature he had ever laid eyes on. I asked if he was prepared to not only take care of her, but her daughter, and the business. As I started rattling off all the newfound responsibilities he would have, Mikael began to stammer that while he found Carlotta to be lovely, she must have misunderstood his intentions for he just wanted to be friends. I told him that a long-distance friendship with Carlotta would be for the best and that maybe he should focus on someone who actually liked him in return. He coyly nodded in agreement and I left him in peace. As I exited the Bannered Mare, a female patron walked in and Mikael flitted to her side, singing the same song I had heard when I entered, just for her.

I returned to Carlotta and informed her that she should not have any difficulty with Mikael from now on. She asked me if I had roughed him up but I told her that Mikael was easily intimidated and no violence was needed. She thanked me with fresh produce and a few Septims for my troubles. I told her that it was my pleasure to help which she raised an eyebrow to, quizzing me if I had fallen for her as well. I put up my paws and quickly declared that I was helping her for Mila’s sake and that I did not want to see her daughter distraught over the treatment Carlotta was receiving. I took my leave then and walked up the stone path to the Wind District.

As I passed the Shrine of Talos, I heard the Nord Priest call out to me. I greeted Heimskr and he asked me about my beliefs. I told him that I followed the ways of the Khajiiti Pantheon. The Priest then asked me what I knew of Talos but before I could answer he began to give his sermon. He explained that Talos was first a mortal named Tiber Septim who conquered all of Tamriel and ushered in the Third Era. After death, he ascended to the heavens and became the ninth Divine, known as Talos though some of the Nords still call him Ysmir. His worship along with the worship of the Nine Divines spread throughout all of Tamriel and became the prominent religion of the Empire. Offended that a mere Nord had ascended to godhood, the Aldmeri Dominion demanded that his worship be banned when Emperor Titus Mede II signed the White-Gold Concordat, ending the Great War. Heimskr cried that the Emperor was a coward who banished the worship of Talos at the tip of an Aldmeri sword. The Priest continued that it was blasphemy and that a true son of the Empire would never turn his back on Talos for any price, let alone at the command of the Elves. Then, as if noticing for the first time that I was not a Nord, he started to rant about how the Khajiit sided with the First Aldmeri Dominion under the reign of Queen Ayrenn and continued to fight for the Second and Third Dominions. By this time, Heimskr was practically frothing at the mouth as he condemned my people’s involvement with the ‘Elven blasphemers.’ He ordered me to leave his sight which I gladly obeyed.

I was just about to climb the steps towards Dragonsreach when I overheard Amren fighting with his wife, Saffir. The Redguard warrior was one of the first people to truly accept me in Whiterun and I counted him amongst my friends. His wife and I got along as well, for we both shared a love of books. Amren’s daughter, Braith, was someone I was well familiar with too, for she enjoyed spending time bullying Lars Battle-Born. I tried not to look conspicuous as I eavesdropped on their argument. It sounded as if Amren wanted to spend Septims to hire a couple of men to explore a thieves’ den he had discovered. Saffir stated she understood that family honor was important to her husband but that they simply could not afford the expense. Amren responded that he had been searching for this den for weeks and could not get the sword back on his own. Saffir countered that he would let his family starve for a rusty sword. She then stated that either he reclaimed his sword or he could keep his wife for if he left Whiterun, she would not be there when he returned.

With that, Saffir left Amren in the streets of the Wind District. I approached my friend and lent him my ear. Amren related the story about how his father fed his entire family with the gold he made using the same sword but thieves had recently stolen it. He did not want the sword gathering dust in some thieves den and was going to hire the Whiterun guards or maybe the Companions to get it for him. He stated that he knew it was risky and foolish to waste resources on an old sword but that it was the only thing he had of his father and the only tie he had to his home in the Imperial Province. I reassured him that I understood how valuable the item was and that I would do my best to locate it for him. Amren offered me a bag of gold coins but I pushed it back into his hands, friends help friends for free.

I finally made my way to Dragonsreach and met Avenicci. The Jarl’s Steward was busy as usual and could only spare a few words for me. He thanked me for clearing out the rabble near Valtheim Towers when I fought them on my way to Ivarstead. He threw a coin purse at me and then shooed me out of his sight. As I weight the purse in my hands, a hundred Septims worth, a Courier called out to me and handed me a message. It was from a Calcemo in Markarth, far to the west of Skyrim. Apparently, the Dwarven Arrow I had previously purchased from Belethor was worth something and he requested that I bring it to him when I was in the area. ‘Another errand for the cat.’ I thought to myself. Still, I had no plans on journeying west for I had priorities in the Rift to take care of. I neatly folded the message and put it in my satchel, it would have to wait for now.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XVII: Kindness of the Nords

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XVII: Kindness of the Nords
Location: Riften, The Rift
Date: Turdas, 28th of Last Seed, 4E 201

The moon had risen over Lake Honrich when I ventured outside the walls of Riften and into the night air. My destination was the Riften Stables, just outside the main gate, to speak to Shadr about the deal I had struck with Sapphire of the Thieves Guild. A quick jaunt down the stone road brought the stables within view. Being so close to Riften, I let my guard down, thinking no bandit had the gall to attack travelers where Rift guards were posted. I was wrong in my assumption as I suddenly heard yelling and was ambushed by four Hired Thugs. They ran at me with weapons drawn, screaming that I did not belong in Skyrim for this was the land of the Nords. I did not have time to draw my bow or my daggers and instead, resorted to using a Khajiit’s true weapons; my claws. I dug into the chest of the first Hired Thug that approached me, using his momentum to propel him over my shoulder and send him crashing into the dirt behind me. My second attacker held his axe high above his head, ready to land a crushing blow. I dove straight towards his legs, with my claws extended, and tore into his calves. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Before his friends could attack me, I quickly picked up the Hired Thug’s axe and cut off his head. The next two Hired Thugs charged me at the same time but I deftly dodged their attacks and dispatched them with ease.

I knew about these sorts of people all too well for I had spent time in the same line of work as they; hiring out my skills as a fighter to any who would pay my fee. They did not attack me randomly; they had but hired to hunt me but who would pay money to sign a contract with them? I searched the thugs’ bodies until I found a crumpled piece of parchment. The Contract was paid for by a Solitude guard, and identified me as the target. ‘Solitude?’ I thought to myself, ‘I do not recall upsetting anyone there. I did not even steal anything from the Blue Palace.’ I continued reading the Contract; it stated that I was not to be killed but punished for defiling the grave of Roggvir. I had to pause a moment to remember who this ‘Roggvir’ was… and then it came back to me. He was the man that was executed when I first arrived in Solitude. His family requested that I bring back his Amulet of Talos, which required me to go into Solitude Catacombs, kill a few re-animated skeletons, and open his coffin. I would not call the ‘defiling’ so to speak at least not enough to hire thugs to rough me up. No matter, I now had more armor and weapons to sell when I returned to Riften.

As I was picking up the last of the valuables from the thugs I had defeated, a Nord warrior ran up to me. He waved his hands to show that he meant no harm and asked what had happened. I introduced myself and told him that bandits had set on me to try and steal my money but that I was able to handle them. The Nord was impressed and told me that he was Hofgrir Horse-Crusher from the Riften Stables. I told him that was where I was headed with good news for Shadr. As we walked towards the stables, Hofgrir informed me that the Redguard was his assistant and he had been worried about the difficulties Shadr was having with the Thieves Guild. The Nord spotted Shadr in the distance and waved his assistant over to us.

Hofgrir quizzed his assistant and asked if the Redguard knew a cat, pointing his well-worn fingers at me. Shadr flashed me a smile and relayed to the Nord how we met. He then turned to me and asked if I had any news and how he hoped it would be good. I nodded my head vigorously and reported that I was able to convince Sapphire to forgive his debts. Shadr thanked the Divines and then thanked me. He was astonished to hear that not only had I talked to her but that I was able to change her mind. He also added that he never thought anyone in Riften would ever care what happened to him, outside of Hofgrir. He reached into his satchel, handed me a bottle, and informed me that he was saving it in case he needed to run from Sapphire. I turned the glass flask in my hands until I realized what it was, it was a Potion of Invisibility. I thanked Shadr for the gift and bid him and Hofgrir a good night before returning to Riften.

While it was late by Whiterun standards, Riften was still buzzing with activity. I wanted to sell the armor and weapons I had procured from the thugs so I sauntered over to the Scorched Hammer and found Balimund the Blacksmith. As I sold my items, he told me how he was running low on Fire Salts to keep his forge burning. I told him that I would keep an eye out for them if he would allow me to use his forge when I was in Riften. Balimund happily agreed and told me he would even give me a good deal on metal ore as well. The other merchants were just closing their shops as I strode past the main marketplace. Grelka the Nord, who sells weapons and armor, was making fun of Madesi, the Argonian jeweler. She was also being especially cruel to a homeless Argonian. After she had left, I talked to Madesi a bit and offered to help him find some rare stones for his crafting. I also talked to the homeless Argonian, Wujeeta, and learned she was a Skooma addict. I gave her a Potion of Healing to help with the side effects of her affliction and told her to try and get help.

My last stop was Honorhall Orphanage to inquire about a home for Lucia and Blais. I was greeted by Constance Michel, the assistant to the headmistress. She came across as a genuinely caring person which was the complete opposite of her employer. Grelod the Kind, headmistress of Honorhall, was anything but kind. I could hear her yelling at the children, threatening to beat them if they did not finish their chores in a timely manner. Constance warned me that I should not be here, telling me that Grelod did not like visitors. I asked Constance why and she stated that Grelod would never allow anyone to adopt the children here. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was about to ask Constance why Grelod would do that when a little girl came up to me and told me about her friend Aventus Aretino. He had run away from Honorhall and returned to Windhelm. She told me that he was planning on summoning the Dark Brotherhood to kill Grelod. Then she pleaded with me to take her away from this place, telling me that she was a good worker and that she would be quiet. I left saddened and dismayed. This was not a place for children to grow up, especially someone as sweet as Lucia or as inquisitive as Blais. I had to find another place for them to live; someplace they could truly call home.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XVI: Depraved City

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XVI: Depraved City
Location: Riften, The Rift
Date: Turdas, 28th of Last Seed, 4E 201

I was forced to take my time traveling to Riften for the Bone Break Fever I had contracted from the Bear’s bite was slowing me down considerably. It was early morning and the air was calm as I followed the Treva River until it met Lake Honrich. From there, I travelled along the main road straight to the gate of the capital city. I was once again barred from entering the city because of my race. ‘These Nords,’ I thought to myself, ‘I should unleash a Shout upon them all.’ I knew that trying to break in with violence would get me nowhere, so I was forced to try a different tactic. The Guard was unwilling to allow me entrance into Riften without paying a ‘tax.’ Though my title of Whiterun’s Thane did little to help me, I was able to persuade the Guard to let me in for free, with promises that I would bring him back some well aged Nord Mead. As the large wooden gates of Riften opened, I reminded myself that I was now deep within Stormcloak aligned territory and touting my exploits from Whiterun would only hinder me here.

As I entered Riften, I could feel the uneasiness of the city; it was as if the city’s very foundation was on edge. The guards and citizens only glared at me as I walked down the main street towards the city’s center. As I tried not to draw too much attention to myself, I overheard a conversation between a Nord warrior and her Imperial friend. She lamented that Riften was being infected by the Thieves Guild and that someone must do something to stop the troublesome group. The Imperial warned her not to engage the Guild for they were supported by Maven Black-Briar. The way he said the name made me think that this Black-Briar was a powerful figure here in Riften. I approached the pair and inquired about the Thieves Guild and its activities in the city. The Nord introduced herself as Mjoll the Lioness and answered by relating to me all the problems the Guild had caused recently. It seemed that no house was safe from the Thieves Guild, except the Black-Briars’ of course. I asked who Maven was and the Imperial, Aerin, provided the answer. She owned Black-Briar Meadery and was essentially in control of Riften. While not the Jarl, her money and power ran so deep in the Rift and her connections to the Thieves Guild gave her eyes and ears everywhere, that no one could challenge her authority. I thanked Mjoll and Aerin for their time and decided to try the local inn for more information.

Before I could travel any further, an imposing Nord approached me. I saw him when I first entered the city and he had been watching my conversation with Mjoll and Aerin. His dark hair, piercing eyes, and muscular arms made it very apparent that he was not afraid to get into a fight. He challenged my presence in Riften, demanding that I cause no trouble. His name was Maul and he appeared to be Maven Black-Briar’s right-hand man. He threatened to break both my arms if I did anything against Maven’s family but I assured him that I wanted no trouble. I was even able to smooth talk my way into gaining information from him. He told me about the local orphanage, Honorhall, and a boy named Aventus Aretino who ran away to Windhelm. Rumor had it that Aretino was trying to perform the Black Sacrament to summon the Dark Brotherhood. Then we switched to the topic of the Thieves Guild. I lightly hinted that I may wish to contact them and Maul pointed me towards the Bee and Barb, the local inn. There, he said, a Nord named Brynjolf might be able to help me contact the Guild. I thanked him for the information and reaffirmed that I would not cause any trouble for the Black-Briars during my stay in Riften. He only shooed me away as he turned his gaze towards the main gate, readying to ‘greet’ any other newcomers.

As I reached the city’s center, I overheard a Nord woman shaking down a Redguard. She did not look too imposing, quite beautiful in fact, but her posture conveyed that she was not someone to be trifled with. The Redguard, I think his name was Shadr, was terrified of her. After she left, I approached the shaken Redguard and asked if he was alright. Shadr was grateful for my concern and informed me that he had borrowed money from the Nord. Her name was Sapphire and she was a member of the Thieves Guild. ‘Hmm, just the person I was looking for.’ I thought to myself. Shadr had used the money to ship goods into Cyrodiil to sell but unfortunately the caravan had been raided and he had lost everything. To make matters worse, he found out that Sapphire was behind the raid but she was still demanding that he pay back his debts. I told Shadr not to worry and that I would talk to Sapphire on his behalf. He thanked me for my help and told me to meet him at the Riften Stables after I had resolved the matter.

I was truly starting to feel the effects of Bone Break Fever and located the Temple of Mara in hopes of curing my ailment. The temple was simple but quite beautiful with intricate patterns engraved in the high wooden beams. The altar was a little more elaborate than ones I had seen in the past; I had heard this temple often performed marriage ceremonies here. I approached the altar and offered a prayer to Mara and asked for her healing touch.

I whispered softly, “Come to me, Mara, for without you, I might forget the ways of our fathers, and preening by the light of latest fashion, my words might tremble like the tin reeds of novelty in the tempest of enthusiasms.”

I suddenly felt my strength return to me and could tell that I had been cured of Bone Break Fever. I offered a tithe of five Septims and turned to leave when I was greeted by a priestess named Dinya Balu. She and fellow priest, Maramal, were the primary caretakers of the temple. She was surprised to see a Khajiit inside the walls, stating that the caravans rarely came this far south due to the strong pro-Nord affiliations in the area. I made a scoffing sound at this statement and she quickly apologized for she meant no offence to me and affirmed that Mara loved all of Tamriel’s inhabitants. Dinya proceeded to ask me if I was with a caravan or had any family in Skyrim. I explained that I was alone here and while I had people I could call family when I was a child, I had been on my own for many years now. She expressed sorrow at hearing this and told me that everyone should have a place to call home with someone they loved waiting for them there. I could only shrug and excuse myself, telling her I had business to attend to but as I left I couldn’t help but ponder her words. ‘A home? Family?’ I asked myself, ‘I am not sure what that would even be like. To feel like I belonged and had people who accepted me for who I am…’ I could not fathom that.

Riften was buzzing with activity when I left the Temple of Mara. I came across a Dunmer merchant named Marise Aravel. She made her living selling meat to the citizens of Riften but had difficulty obtaining Ice Wraith Teeth to keep her food cool and fresh. I told her that I often encountered the annoying little bastards and would be happy to bring her as many as I could next time I was in the area. She laughed and thanked me for her assistance. I asked her where I could find the Bee and Barb and she pointed me in the right direction. On my way there, I met a beggar named Snilf and gave him a few coins if he could keep an eye out for Brynjolf and let me know when he saw the Thieves Guild contact. He gave me a slight nod and told me that he would help me if he could.

I entered the Bee and Barb and was met by a rude Argonian running the bar. I could not even get her name let alone any information on Brynjolf unless I paid a hefty fee of Septims. Argonians, I hated dealing with those lizardfolk. Some would think that the Khajiit and Argonians would get along since we were both beastfolk but I have never found a more contemptible race in all of Nirn. I turned to the other patrons and hoped I would have better luck. I spied Sapphire sitting at a table that was tucked away in the corner of the room. I approached and told her that Shadr had asked that I speak to her. Immediately, she was on the defensive but I was able to persuade her to forgive his debt, telling her that she would be seen as the one with true power. After all, thugs can shake down people for money but those in control have the power to forgive debts. She agreed and I was pleased that I had accomplished this for Shadr. I tried to change topics and inquire about the Thieves Guild but Sapphire made it very clear that she was done dealing with me.

I next spoke to Svana Far-Shield, who was the niece of Haelga of Haelga’s Bunkhouse. Haelga managed the boarding house and Svana acted as maid though she told me that she was more like her aunt’s personal slave. Svana shared her disgust of Haelga, saying the woman was foul and coldhearted. She then confided to me that her aunt had been sleeping around with three different men; some were even married, and was taking her worship of Dibella too seriously. Svana asked me to steal the tokens Haelga gave each one of her ‘suitors’ to use as leverage so that Svana could blackmail her. I quickly waved my hands, mumbling about helping Shadr at the stables and the work Aravel commissioned me for. I tried to leave the inn, telling Svana that I was only in town for a little while and I had just been cured of Bone Break Fever so it was best that I did not overexert myself. She would not let me leave the Bee and Barb until I promised that I would help her if I got the time. As I rushed out of the inn, I could not help thinking, ‘Klimmek was right, Riften was a depraved city.’

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XV: Answering the Summons

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XV: Answering the Summons
Location: Throat of the World, Whiterun Hold
Date: Morndas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201

At first, the trek up the Seven Thousand Steps was much like any other journey I had previously taken. The weather was fair and the path was clearly laid out before me. Soon, as I began to ascend higher and higher up the mountain, things began to change drastically. Snow began to fall lightly then turned into a blizzard. The wind whipped around the mountain at such a velocity that I feared it would send me flying off the side of the narrow path. Eventually that too disappeared, for the Steps soon turned into a treacherous path of snow and ice. The mountain was desolate and devoid of life. I only came upon two Ice Wolves that I dispatched effortlessly. Just when I thought I was all alone on my journey, I passed a fellow Pilgrim. The hooded Pilgrim simply nodded as I passed by.

As I continued my slow and labored ascent, I stumbled upon the body of another Pilgrim. Examining it closely, I could tell that she had been killed by a creature much larger than an Ice Wolf. Crouching down, I tried to peer into the snow-laden distance to see if the creature was still near. I listened, straining my ears to make out anything other than the whistling of the wind. Soon I could hear the crunching of snow and realized that a Frost Troll was walking away from me, merely yards ahead. I pulled out my bow and readied an arrow. I could barely see its white hulking frame against the snow covered rocks and the flurries that continued to fall from the sky. I fired an arrow into the white abyss ahead of me and a slight grunt told me I had hit my target. The Frost Troll turned and charged at me, arms waving wildly in the air. I jumped to the side as it came stampeding towards me, sliding on my side across the icy snow. The Frost Troll had built up too much momentum and could not stop itself from careening over the side of the mountain to its death. Klimmek had been right, you really needed to watch your footing when walking the Seven Thousand Steps.

As I ascended higher, to what felt like the heavens and beyond, I noticed stone tablets that lined the path like a monument. Each Emblem had a different text written on it and as I climbed towards High Hrothgar, I read every single one.

‘Before the birth of Men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.

Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus. The Dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then, and had no Voice.

The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times. Unafraid of war with Dragons and their Voices. But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.

Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man. Together they taught Men to use the Voice. Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.

Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world. Proving for all that their Voice too was strong. Although their sacrifices were many-fold.

With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquered. Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice. Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World.

The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation. To understand Strong Voices could fail.

Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned. The seventeen disputants could not shout Him down. Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World.

For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name. Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dohvakiin.

The Voice is worship. Follow the Inner path. Speak only in True Need.’

I did not fully understand the words but recognized the stories as those of the ancient Nord heroes who battled Alduin and the tale of Tiber Septim’s summoning. When I had finished reading the last Emblem, I paused and examined my surroundings. I had reached the summit of the Throat of the World. At the peak, the snow had stopped falling and the sky was clear. I could see almost all of Skyrim beneath me from the great White River to Whiterun itself. I took a moment to enjoy the view and etched it into my memory before turning towards High Hrothgar. There, near the door to the temple sat a chest which I put Klimmek’s Supplies in and then proceeded inside to discover my fate.

Location: High Hrothgar, Whiterun Hold
Date: Tirdas, 26th of Last Seed, 4E 201

As my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the temple, I was greeted by four Greybeards. None spoke to me, only gazing at me with steady eyes, like they were examining every facet of my being. Then slowly and softly, one of them spoke to me.

“So…” his voice was filled with a subtle power that sounded as if he had not spoken in centuries. “A Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.”

“This one…” I began with my normal voice bellowing through the temple. Startled by the din of my speech, I paused before continuing. I started again, this time with a whisper, “This one calls Dar’Raza Dragonborn, what does that mean?”

“First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn. Let us taste of your Voice.” the Greybeard whispered as he gestured towards an empty wall.

I turned towards the area he had pointed at and inhaled deeply, “Fus!” A gust of wind hit the wall and dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

“Dragonborn. It is you.” the Greybeard exclaimed, with no more than a slight murmur. “Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?”

“Dar’Raza wants to find out what it means to be Dragonborn.” I answered, sounding like a hissing snake in my whispering accent.

“We are here to guide you in that pursuit, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you.” Master Arngeir replied.

“Dar’Raza is not the only Dragonborn?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“You are not the first.” Master Arngeir nodded. “There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift on mortalkind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age…” he paused for a moment, “That is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say.”

“Who is this one? What is this place?” I asked pointing first at the Greybeard and then around us.

“We are the Greybeards, followers of the Way of the Voice.” answered Master Arngeir as he gestured to the others standing near him. “You stand in High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth’s sacred mountain. Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves.”

I nodded then added, “Dar’Raza is ready to learn.”

“You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen.” he uttered as he drew closer to me. “Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu’um, a Shout. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn.” Master Arngeir raised his voice ever so slightly, “When you Shout, you speak in the language of Dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger.” He pointed at one of the other Greybeards, “Master Einarth will now teach you ‘Ro,’ the second Word in Unrelenting Force.” As Master Einarth moved towards the center of the room, Master Arngeir continued his lesson, “‘Ro’ means ‘Balance’ in the Dragon tongue. Combine it with ‘Fus’ meaning ‘Force,’ to focus your Thu’um more sharply.”

Master Einarth shouted softly at the stone floor, “Ro.”

The Word written in the Dragon language appeared etched into the stone floor and began to glow much like the Word at Bleak Falls Barrow did when I first saw it. I looked at the Word and could understand it just like I did at the stone monument.

“You learn a new Word like a master… you truly do have the gift.” Master Arngeir declared with controlled enthusiasm. “But learning a Word of Power is only the first step… you must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain Dragon’s life force and knowledge directly. As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of ‘Ro.’”

A sudden burst of light emanated from Master Einarth, just as the Dragon did when we defeated it at the Western Watchtower. I could feel the power and knowledge  of Master Einarth surge through me, a strange yet familiar sensation.

“Now let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu’um.” Master Arngeir stated.

Master Einarth summoned a familiar that I could practice on and I shouted.

He summoned another, “Fiik, Lo… Sah!”

“Fus… Ro!” I answered as I blew the familiar away.

“You learn quickly,” Master Arngeir commented. “Once more.”

“Fus Ro!” I Shouted again.

“Impressive. Your Thu’um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn.” Master Arngeir stated as he motioned for me to follow him. “We will perform your next trial in the courtyard. Follow Master Borri.”

One of the Greybeards gave a low bow, I assumed this was Master Borri and followed him. He and the other Greybeards led me through High Hrothgar’s vast hallways towards the courtyard. It was like a maze with corridors winding in every direction. Finally, Master Borri opened a large steel door that led us outside. As I stepped through the door, I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the blinding sun. The dimness of High Hrothgar’s halls had made my already sensitive Khajiit eyes adjust to the darkness. Now, standing in the courtyard, I could barely focus on my surroundings.

Master Arngeir, unaffected by the change in light, spoke again, “We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout. Master Borri will teach you ‘Wuld,’ which means ‘Whirlwind.’”

Master Borri gave another short bow before he whispered, “Wuld.”

On the ground appeared the Word etched into the stone floor. I absorbed it the same way I had the previous two Words of Power and I absorbed Master Borri’s knowledge. Master Wulfgar, the fourth and final Greybeard, demonstrated how to use the Shout by running past a closing gate. The Shout gave him tremendous speed that even with my Khajiit abilities, I could not have caught him. Next, it was my turn to try the Shout. I tensed my muscles, concentrated on the Word, and then Shouted. An unseen force propelled me forward at the speed of the wind, as if Khenarthi herself was propelling me forward.

“Your quick mastery of a new Thu’um is… astonishing.” Master Arngeir declared in amusement. “I had heard the stories of the Dragonborn's abilities, but to see it for myself…”

There was silence for a few moments until I replied with the only thing I could think of, “Dar’Raza does not know how Dar’Raza does it. It just happens.”

“You were given this gift by the gods for some reason.” replied Master Arngeir, with a hint of surprise and questioning in his voice.

I wondered to myself if he was questioning what I was going to do with my gift or why his Nordic gods gave this gift to a Khajiit. I felt it would be impolite to ask so I stayed quiet and listened.

“It is up to you to figure out how to best use it.” Master Arngeir continued. “You are now ready for your last trial. Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return.”

Location: Ivarstead, The Rift
Date: Tirdas, 26th of Last Seed, 4E 201

I left High Hrothgar and returned to Ivarstead. The journey felt easier and shorter for I spent most of my descend recalling what the Greybeards had said. I needed to find this horn before the Greybeards would teach me anymore about my gift and its location was in Hjaalmarch. I had no plans on returning so soon to the marshy hold so I decided to spend a little time in Ivarstead and slowly make my return to Whiterun. Night had fallen when I met Klimmek at the inn. He thanked me for helping by buying me a drink and lending me his company. He asked about my pilgrimage and I related the story of my climb, avoiding any mention of actually meeting the Greybeards or their affirmation that I was Dragonborn. We switched to different topics, finally resting on the Rift and its capital city, Riften. He informed me that there was an orphanage in Riften that took in children from all over Skyrim. ‘This is perfect!’ I rejoiced in my head, ‘Just the place for Lucia and Blaise.’ I could not help but grin to myself. If Klimmek noticed my elated smile, he did not let on but continued talking about the Temple of Mara that was there. He also told me of the troubles Riften was having with the Thieves Guild. ‘Eh?’ the question bubbled in my head, ‘Oh ho, indeed Riften seems to be the answer to all my needs.’ I thanked him for the drink and the conversation but told him I would like to leave for Riften right away. He was surprised considering the time it was but walked me outside of the inn anyway.

As we stood outside in the cool night's air, two strangely dressed men approached us. They were wearing long black robes and funny looking masks. One asked me if I was the Dragonborn, I lied and told him I had no idea what he was talking about. Klimmek confirmed my lie, telling the man he ‘had taken too many slaps to the head by his woman’ but the strange man kept insisting. He told me I was a ‘False Dragonborn’ and that I would not oppose his lord. The two strangers drew their weapons and attacked me. Klimmek and the Guards nearby came to my defense and the strangers were killed quickly. Klimmek was slightly shaken up by the whole ordeal but I reassured him that everything was alright. He asked if I would stay with him, saying that the roads to Riften were dangerous, even in daylight. I insisted that I must leave tonight and while he was hesitant to let me go, he wished me well.

Before leaving Ivarstead, I searched the bodies of the strangers to find they were Cultists of some kind. The one who had spoken to me had a note on his body which read,

‘Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Dar’Raza before he reaches Solstheim.

Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased.’

‘Solstheim?’ I thought to myself. It was an island north of Vvardenfell and east of Skyrim. All I knew about it was that the Nords had given it to the Dunmer when the Red Mountain erupted on Vvardenfell, forcing many Dunmer to flee their homeland almost two hundred years ago. I had no idea what any of it meant and decided to march onwards to Riften. I followed Treva River which flowed from Lake Geir to Lake Honrich, where Riften sat on its eastern shore. On the way there, I dispatched two Bears and skinned their hides for Temba. Unfortunately, one Bear was able to bite me before I took it down and I contracted Bone Break Fever, which drained my Stamina substantially. I needed to make sure that my first stop in Riften would be the Temple of Mara to pray for healing.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XIV: The Throat of the World

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XIV: The Throat of the World
Location: Whiterun Plains, Whiterun Hold
Date: Morndas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201

The sky was clear and the sun shone brightly when I left Whiterun and headed east to answer my summons to High Hrothgar. My destination was Ivarstead in the Rift, which was a village that sat at the base of the Seven Thousand Steps. I traveled upon the main stone road which was the same one I had used when I came from Riverwood. As I walked along the wide road, I came across a sickly man. His skin appeared to be rotting with dark encrustations all over his body and his eyes were sullen. I stopped him and asked if there was anything I could do but he only reproached me for ‘ogling the grotesque.’ I told him that I was merely concerned and meant no offense. When he realized that my empathy was genuine, he explained his situation. He informed me that he was one of the Afflicted and suffered from a plague. He would have been dead from the plague a year ago if not for the protection from Peryite, the Daedric Prince of Pestilence. He continued that he was leaving Skyrim for fear that Peryite would remove his favor. When I inquired why Peryite would do such a thing, he told me that the Afflicted Shepherd had lost his way and Peryite was bound to punishment him. I was about to question him more when he waved his hands and cut me off. As he sprinted down the road, he told me to seek Kesh if I wanted to know more but he was leaving Skyrim as quickly as possible.

I continued my journey down the road when I came across signs of a bandit attack nearby. I had heard from the guards in Whiterun that bandits had set up a camp nearby and were ambushing travelers heading to and from Whiterun. I followed the trail up the hill, near the side of the road, and discovered White River Watch. There, I spied three Bandits looking over their stolen wares. I stealthily crept closer to the Bandits until I was inside their camp. Quickly, I drew my daggers and attacked. Their cries of surprise were all the action they could take, as I cut them down in one fluid motion.

On the road once more, I came across another Standing Stone lying on top of a hill, where a Necromancer was trying to re-animate a Skeleton. My stumbling in on the act startled the Necromancer into hostility. He cast a few spells as his newly formed Skeleton companion attacked me with a Steel Warhammer. I could not block the weapon with my daggers so I evaded the blow and prepared to counter. The combination of being attacked by spells and the Skeleton was overwhelming. I failed to dodge a heavy blow from the warhammer and it resulted in the bones of my right leg being crushed. Crippled now, I drew the Imperial Bow that Hadvar had gifted me and fired an arrow at the Skeleton. Its impact shattered the bones into pieces and I could hear a pained cry rise out of the Necromancer. He was attacking me from behind the Standing Stone, peeking out to cast a spell before ducking behind the Stone once more. The wound on my leg made it impossible for me to avoid the cracks of lightning he shot at me and the jolting current made it difficult to steady my bow. I inhaled deeply and waited for the right moment, my timing could not be off.

The Necromancer lept out from behind his cover and without hesitating for a moment I yelled, “Fus!”

The powerful Shout barreled into the Necromancer, knocking him squarely in the chest. The force was so unrelenting that it thrust him over the hillside and into the White River below. The fall was so great that nothing could have survived, and by some miracle the Necromancer did survive his fall, the violent water of the White River would have surely drowned him. I quickly healed my wound with both paws and when I was feeling able, I placed the bow on my back and walked eastward towards Ivarstead.

I was still in Whiterun Hold when I came across Valtheim Towers. One tower was firmly planted on my side of the White River and another tower sat upon the north bank of the river. An expansive bridge stretched out over the cascading waters, connecting the two towers. This was the very place Avenicci had told me about where bandits had taken hold. I could only guess that the Bandits I had slain earlier were a part of this larger group. I remembered my promise to Avenicci and sneaked towards the Towers to dispatch of the Bandit Chief that led these vile people.

Unfortunately, it was broad daylight and there was little shrubbery for me to hide behind. A Bandit high on the bridge saw me slinking along the road and sounded an alarm. Soon there were Bandits pouring out of the towers. Three rushed down the stairs and stampeded towards me while another three Bandits stood on the bridge, pelting me with arrows. I sprinted towards the south tower, intending to use it as a shield from the Archers. I drew my bow quickly and fired two arrows, one into each knee of a charging Bandit. He fell to the road in agony, I left him there crippled for I was still trying to avoid the Archers high above me.

I raced forward towards the other two Bandits. I was finally in the shadow of the tower, safe from the Archers rain of metal. A Bandit was now in front of me, she took a sweeping blow with her war axe but I dove under it before she could plant it in my gut. I had no time to attack her for as soon as I evaded her attack, the third Bandit swung his weapon at me. I held up my bow in defense, I had no time to determine what kind of weapon he held and hoped that it was no warhammer. His sword glanced off my bow and I regained my footing before deflecting another sword. ‘Two!’ I screamed in my head. I knew I had to finish this dual-wielding Bandit quickly for there was still a Bandit behind me and the Archers above. He cried out, the screech pulling me out of my thoughts, as he charged straight for me. I half-drew my bow, I knew I did not have the room nor the time to draw it back fully, and let loose an arrow into the Bandit’s foot. This time, his cry was not one of the heat of battle but one of pain. As he stumbled forward, I took an arrow in my paw and thrust it into his chest, using the Bandit’s own falling momentum against him. For safety's sake I fired another arrow into his back he fell to the ground.

The last standing Bandit thundered towards me, war axe held high above her head. I slid backwards, landing on my back and fired a single shot straight up, it met her chin and did not stop until it hit the top of her skull. She collapsed in a heap on top of me and I struggled to push her aside. I stood up as I heard the Bandits above screaming for news from their comrades. Little did they know, their comrades were all dead… then I heard it, the sound of anguish from the first Bandit I had encountered. He was still alive, writhing in pain on the road. I steadied my bow and placed an arrow into his neck, ending his agony.

There were still at least three more Bandits on the bridge. I darted into the tower and up the wooden stairs, there was no reason for stealth here, they knew I was coming when they realized their comrades were dead. When I reached the bridge, there were indeed three Bandits there. Because the pathway was so narrow, the three could not fire at once. I took cover in the doorway of the tower, peeking out between the barrage of arrows. I heard a Bandit cry out as I saw him lose his footing and tumble over the edge of the bridge into the gushing river below. Only two bandits remained, I collected myself and then walked onto the bridge. My stride was in tune with my shots, every footfall saw another arrow take flight, and I did not stop until both Bandits were lying dead on the bridge.

I sighed in relief when I saw the last Bandit crumple on the bridge. I was about to turn back and descend to the road when I felt a gush of wind against my face as an arrow whizzed past my cheek. In shock, I almost staggered right off of the bridge but regained my balance before I tumbled over the edge. I scanned the other side of the bridge and saw a lone Bandit standing on the opposite cliff. With all the energy I could muster in my legs, I bounded across the bridge towards the northern tower. I could only hope that my luck would hold out and no arrow would find itself in my flesh for there was no room to dodge on the bridge. Into the tower I raced and practically slid down the stairs until I reached the outside, bow tense and ready to attack. When I reached the cliff where I had seen the Bandit, he was no longer there. I whirled around, my keen eyes searching for any glint of metal that would reveal his position to me. ‘There!’ I saw a flash in the sunlight behind the trees and fired two arrows without any hesitation. The Bandit cursed me before he slumped down, dead.

I neared the corpse and discovered a note on his body that revealed his true identity, he was the Bandit Chief that had organize the attacks on travelers. I took it and what ever items I could carry with the plan of selling them when I could and saving the letter for Avenicci. As I crossed the bridge and returned to the main road, I examined my Imperial Bow to see what kind of damage it had taken. Amazingly, blocking the Bandit’s sword had barely scratched it. I chuckled to myself, ‘I really must thank Hadvar now.’ I continued east, following the White River, hoping that the rest of my journey would be uneventful.

I followed the White River until it met the Darkwater River, there I changed course and followed this new river south to Lake Geir which was located just outside of Ivarstead. The sun was setting as I trekked along the Darkwater River and came across five Imperial Soldiers escorting a Stormcloak Prisoner. I was about to stop and let them pass when a Troll attacked from the riverbank. ‘Trolls.’ I moaned as I drew my bow. They were foul, nasty creatures. Having three beady eyes instead of two, they were monstrous in size and strength. They were hairy, had sharp claws and fangs, and attacked anything that disturbed them. They also could regenerate their health so killing one was especially difficult.

The Stormcloak Prisoner tried to run but the Troll used its great arms to smash the Prisoner into the ground. The Imperial Soldiers attacked the Troll and I also joined in the action. Carefully placing my shots as to not hit the Soldiers, our combined effort eliminated the beast but not before it killed a Soldier. With the Prisoner dead, the remaining Soldiers thanked me for my assistance and then journeyed west, I assumed back to Whiterun.

I took to the riverbank and continued south along the shores, the gushing water murmuring quietly as the sun began to set. It was not as wide as the White River and the flowing water was not as violent. I easily navigated along the shoreline, unearthing what I believed to be the Troll’s den underneath a rock formation. Inside I found a dead Hunter and multiple human-like skeletons. The sight made me shutter and I hurried along the riverbank towards Lake Geir.

Location: Ivarstead, The Rift
Date: Tirdas, 26th of Last Seed, 4E 201

It was twilight when I entered the Rift, the first hold that was squarely aligned with the Stormcloaks. I wondered how I would fair here, I could not use my title of thane to unlock city gates now and being a Khajiit would hinder me even further. Nords hated outsiders and while I had grown on the citizens of Whiterun, the city was diverse in its inhabitants. Here, strong Nord convictions held fast. For some unknown reason, my mind jumped back to Fralia Gray-Mane. I was surprised that she had confided in me and asked for my assistance giving that she was a Stormcloak supporter. Maybe a few in the Rift would treat me the same way. I could only hope as I entered the sleepy village of Ivarstead.

As I walked down the dirt street, I tried to glance up at the Throat of the World but could not see it for it was still too dark. Masser and Secunda were hidden behind the clouds and the air was quiet. I saw Vilemyr Inn was open and entered, hoping to find a bed for the night. I was greeted by Lynly Star-Sung, who quizzed if I was a pilgrim to High Hrothgar. I nodded and she sang a song just for me. Afterwards, I tipped her and spoke with Wilhelm, the barkeep. He gave me a Bounty Letter from the Jarl of the Rift, stating that there was a reward for anyone who could slay the Dragon at Autumnwatch. He also told me about the nearby Nordic Tomb, Shroud Hearth Barrow, and how it was haunted. I thanked him for the information, paid for a bed, and had a restless night in anticipation of what was to come.

I only slept for a few hours, just enough that when I awoke the sun had begun to rise. I decided to walk around Ivarstead before ascending the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar. When I exited the inn, I glanced up and my mouth fell open from the sight that was before me. The Throat of the World was like nothing I had ever seen. It was the highest mountain in all of Tamriel and an awe-inspiring sight. The snow at the peak of the mountain was rumored to never melt and there were many tales of events centered on this place. The Nords believed that Men were born on the mountain when the sky breathed onto the land. There was also legend that a great battle took place between the ancient Nord heroes of old and Alduin, the World Eater and Nordic god of Destruction. Their victory over Alduin led to the end of the Dragon War and Alduin being lost in time. Tiber Septim, the man who would become Talos of the Nine Divines, was summoned to High Hrothgar. According to the tale, when he arrived the Greybeards spoke his name and the world shook. They then prophesied that he would be the chosen one who would defeat the Second Aldmeri Dominion, uniting all of Tamriel under one empire.

I could not fathom that I, a lowly Khajiit, had been summoned by the Greybeards just like Tiber Septim had been. To think I was going to stand in the same place that this great man turned Divine once stood was overwhelming. The Septim line of Emperors had ruled over Tamriel for all of the Third Era. From Tiber Septim uniting Tamriel to Martin Septim who sacrificed himself to save Tamriel during the Oblivion Crisis. I could scarcely imagine why the Greybeards would summon me when I paled so much in comparison.

Still, I had come all this way, I might as well see what the old hermits wanted with me. As I walked around Ivarstead, I met Temba Wide-Arm, who was operating the local mill. A log had fallen from the saw and I scurried over to help her before any serious damage could be done. She thanked me and asked if I would mind doing her another favor. I nodded and she continued to tell me that the bears had been tearing up the trees nearby, making the trees impossible to sell. She told me she would pay me if I brought her ten Bear Pelts and I agreed to hunt them down for her.

I walked further along the road until I came to a stop at the small bridge that marked the beginning of the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar. A Nord saw me and bounded over, waving to get my attention. He introduced himself as Klimmek and asked if I was on my way up the mountain. I answered him and told him that was indeed my intent. He asked me to deliver some goods to High Hrothgar, he usually did it, but was unable to this time. I told him I would be glad to and asked him if he traveled the Seven Thousand Steps often. I was amazed to hear that he went nearly once a week up to High Hrothgar to bring food and other items to the Greybeards. I told him it was my first time up the mountain and asked if he had any advice. Klimmek smiled and told me not to worry. All I had to do was watch my footing, be on the lookout for Ice Wolves and the occasional Frost Troll. My guttural moan surprised him and I explained how I had already faced one Troll on my journey to Ivarstead. He wished me safe travels and told me that he would buy me a drink at Vilemyr Inn upon my return. I thanked him and started across the small wooden bridge. I paused for a moment, staring up at the Throat of the World, still in awe of what had brought me here and in dread of what was to come.

The Thief in the Snow - Entry XIII: By the Divines

The Thief in the Snow
Entry XIII: By the Divines
Location: Whiterun, Whiterun Hold
Date: Sundas, 24th of Last Seed, 4E 201

My return to Whiterun had been uneventful with nothing significant to report. I was unhindered by weather, as it was clear most of the way south. I followed the main road from Solitude to Rorikstead before turning east and crossing the Whiterun Plains. When I arrived at the city gates, it was already dark and I sprinted directly to the Bannered Mare. Before I was able to reach my destination, a Courier ambled towards me with a letter in his hand. I took it and thanked him before I read the letter. I was surprised to see it was from Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath. He had heard of my exploits in Whiterun, slaying the Dragon and all, and extended an invitation to come to Falkreath Hold whenever I had the opportunity. Falkreath was the hold just south of Whiterun and I actually had been there once before, when I was in Helgen. I had to meet the Greybeards first but I made a mental note to visit the Jarl soon. For now, it was to the Bannered Mare for information and hopefully to meet a friend.

The inn was bustling as usual with citizens from every district in Whiterun. Hulda was behind the bar and greeted me, telling me to pull up a seat by the fire. I told her that I had actually come to speak to her. She pointed at a free barstool and I sat down, as I did I asked her about the strange tree I had seen at Sleeping Tree Camp. She nodded that she knew of the place but had no idea what the tree was. She did mention the Gildergreen, the giant tree that stood in the Wind District and was the center of Whiterun. The tree was sacred to worshipers of Kynareth and many used to make a pilgrimage to Whiterun. Hulda informed me that the tree had been sickly for some time and that I should speak to Priestess Danica Pure-Spring at the Temple of Kynareth if I needed to know more. I thanked her and left my seat at the bar.

As I was getting up, an older Nord waved me over to his table. He was richly dressed and had an air of sophistication around him. He introduced himself as Olfrid Battle-Born, the patron of the Battle-Born Clan. He invited me to join him and as I did, he thanked him for helping his grandson. I thought to myself a moment, ‘Yes, Lars was having problems with a bully.’ I told him I was happy to help but he still bought me a drink in gratitude. I inquired about his family and the feud between them and the Gray-Mane Clan. He scoffed at this, saying that they were jealous of his family’s success, due to the large farm just outside of Whiterun that had made the Battle-Borns quite wealthy. I asked him why he and his family did not just settle things but he remarked that while he disliked the Gray-Manes, they were still one of the most respectable families in all of Skyrim. We talked for a spell about the Civil War and the Great War before it. He was truly loyal to the Empire and spoke highly of Emperor Mede II. After some time, he excused himself and thanked me again for my company and for aiding his grandson.

I was about to leave when I spotted Ysolda entering through the door. ‘She is here!’ I exclaimed in my head, I had hoped I would see her here so I could give her the Mammoth Tusk I had procured on my journey. She saw me and waved me over to her table.

I greeted her with a wide grin on my face, “This one will never believe what Dar’Raza has found.”

I held out the Mammoth Tusk for her to see. It was so large I had a hard time holding it up.

“Thank you!” Ysolda exclaimed as she motioned for me to set the Tusk on the table. She gave me an overjoyed smile, “This should turn that old cat’s gaze. Maybe I will be able to become a caravaneer myself, one day.”

“Dar’Raza met Ma’dran outside of Solitude.” I stated, still pleased that I was able to help her. “Ma’dran will be very impressed to see this Mammoth Tusk when this one presents it to Ma’dran.”

Ysolda shook my paw, delighted that would soon be able to work with the Khajiit Caravans, “I hope he does, I cannot wait to learn from him.” With amazement in her voice, she asked, “How did you ever find one?”

My lips curled into a grin yet again, revealing my large white fangs, “Dar’Raza stumbled upon a lone Mammoth in the Whiterun Plains. It took many arrows but Dar’Raza was able to kill the beast and harvest the Tusk for Ysolda.”

She clasped her hands together exuberantly “Amazing Dar’Raza! You must be the best hunter in Whiterun, maybe even in all of Skyrim. Even Elrindir and Anoriath at the Drunken Huntsman have been unable to kill a Mammoth.” Ysolda paused to pull out a piece of parchment before she continued, “As promised, let me show you a thing or two about bargaining. Do not want some shifty merchant giving you a raw trade.”

“Many thanks, friend.” I replied as I looked at the paper.

After almost an hour of talking about bartering techniques, I bid Ysolda farewell and returned home for the night. Lydia was pleased to see me; I believe she doubted my surviving the journey to Solitude. I related the tales of my travels from the Mammoth to meeting Hadvar and everything in between. I informed her that I would be leaving early in the morning for High Hrothgar and that she was tasked with keeping an eye on Breezehome while I was gone. She told me I had nothing to worry about and that I should focus on my own safety. We both laughed and I bid her a good night. I, myself, was amazed at what I had been through already. I could not imagine what the next week would bring.

Location: Whiterun, Whiterun Hold
Date: Morndas, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201

The next morning I awoke very early for I had to make preparations before leaving for High Hrothgar. I planned to visit Dragonsreach to see Avenicci about adding more furniture to my house. The rickety bed was not comfortable and I was tired of the place looking like it was owned by a pauper. I had earned quite a hefty amount of Septims from all the goods I had collected and still had more to sell. I stopped at Belethor’s General Goods to sell the rest of the goods I had on me, it was the first time I had been in that shop. I had met Belethor’s assistant, Sigurd, before when he was chopping firewood for Adrianne at Warmaiden’s. I had also heard some interesting remarks about Belethor from the guards; I think one even called him a ‘sleazy little man.’ Nevertheless, I entered his store and sold my goods. He kept making remarks about how much he loved gold, so much that he would sell his sister if he had one. I kept my mouth shut but the Breton was starting to grate on my nerves. I finished selling my last item just in time as he started in on asking me if I had any relatives I would like to sell. I bid him a good morning and left as quickly as I could.

I sauntered up the steps to the Wind District and then to Dragonsreach. I knew Avenicci would already be hard at work, he was not the most likable person but he was a hard working one. I was able to find him in between duties and ordered bedroom furnishings that my back thanked me for. I also had enough to buy dining room and loft decorations, living room furnishings, and even an alchemy laboratory so I did not have to use Farengar’s or Arcadia’s anymore. I shook Avenicci’s hand with enthusiasm, much to his surprise, Breezehome was now fully furnished and I felt ecstatic that I had a home I could be proud of. Before I left, Avenicci asked me for a favor, apparently the guards had been having problems with bandits in the area, near Valtheim Towers. He insisted that if the Bandit Leader was slain, the others would abandon the area and leave. The Whiterun guards were already overwhelmed with protecting Whiterun and its charges, that they were spread too thin to deal with the situation. I told him to calm down and to worry not for I would eliminate the bandits for him. As I started to leave, he thanked me and told me he was happy I was here.

I turned around and replied jokingly, “It is what thanes are for.”

I stopped by to see how Farengar was doing before leaving Dragonsreach. He told me how he was able to go out to the Western Watchtower and examine the Dragon skeleton; he regretted that he could not see it while it was still alive, but that the trip had proved fortuitous. While he spoke, I was browsing his library for he had many books on Skyrim’s history. He noticed this and asked me if I could read. I scoffed at him and he apologized. I informed him that I loved to read and that I enjoyed collecting books from all over Tamriel. He offered the use of his library to me, telling me I could borrow however many I would like to. I could not believe his generosity, Farengar was always somewhat aloof to the situation that I was taken aback by the offer. I thanked him but he only nodded at me as he returned to his work. I took this opportunity and skimmed through the many books he owned.

One titled ‘Lost Legends of Skyrim’ mentioned a forbidden legend about an Archmage named Gauldur who was reportedly murdered by his three sons. His sons had stolen their father’s amulet and divided it amongst themselves before they were hunted down by High King Harald’s men. The book mentioned that one of the son’s was rumored to have perished in Folgunthur, the Foot of Solitude. I wondered if this was the Nordic Tomb I had discovered in the Hjaalmarch Marshes, the one with the campsite near it. I made a note that when I returned to the area that I would investigate the ruins to see if I could unearth any information on Gauldur’s Amulet. I thumbed through a few more books; one mentioned the Reachmen hero Red Eagle and his great sword. Another spoke of the legend that was Alduin the Dragon. I wished to read more but for now, I had to make my way to High Hrothgar. Before leaving Dragonsreach, I stopped at the Jarl’s map of Skyrim which had flags indicating the locations of known Stormcloak and Imperial camps. He was missing the Haafingar Stormcloak Camp and I called Avenicci over to the table. I pointed out its location and told him I had just seen it days ago and that the Imperial Legion in Solitude was well aware of its presence. He thanked me for the information and I departed the palace.

In the Wind District, I saw a priestess near the Gildergreen. I approached her and introduced myself and she told me her name was Danica. I told her the information Hulda had related to me and she nodded with a heavy sigh that everything Hulda had said was true. The Gildergreen was sick and may even be dying. I asked her if she knew why and she replied that the Gildergreen was actually grafted from another ancient tree, the Eldergleam. This tree was said to be the oldest tree in all of Tamriel and that it was blessed by the goddess Kynareth. Danica thought that if someone was able to retrieve the sap of the Eldergleam, that it may be used to restore the Gildergreen in Whiterun. I told her that I would gladly collect this sap but she informed me that it was no simple task. Because the Eldergleam was so ancient, predating metal itself, only one weapon could possibly cut its bark. Nettlebane, as the weapon was called, was stolen by a Hagraven and was protected by it and its coven at Orphan Rock. I paused for a moment, I had never come across a Hagraven before and did not know what I was getting myself into, maybe it was best to leave this task to the Whiterun guards.

As we spoke, an older woman exited the nearby Temple of Kynareth. Danica informed me that this woman was Fralia Gray-Mane, one of the patriarchs of the great family. Danica said Fralia made an offering to Kynareth almost every day, praying for her missing son’s safety. Danica whispered to me that Fralia still believed her son, Thorald, was alive and was kidnapped by the Battle-Borns. Almost all in Whiterun assumed Fralia’s missing son was already dead but the devoted mother would not give up on the hope that Thorald was still alive somewhere. Fralia saw us and approached, greeting the Priestess warmly but giving me an icy glare. Danica formally introduced us, first Fralia than I as thane. The codgy woman’s face transformed from frigidness to warmth as she realized I was in a position of power. She grabbed me by the arm and whisked me towards the steps Dragonsreach. I helplessly glanced back at Danica only to see her smile amusedly at me as she waved goodbye.

When she had me all to herself, Fralia began to speak. She told me much the same as Danica had, that she believed her son had been kidnapped and wished for me to help. She asked that I meet her in her home so we could discuss it more in private. She was about to continue speaking when she suddenly stopped and peered at the Gildergreen. Fralia began to ramble on about the tree and how it was such a sad sight to behold. She told me about Kynareth or Kyne, as the Nords called the Divine. Many in Whiterun Hold worshipped Kynareth for she was the deity of the heavens, the winds, the elements, and the unseen spirits of the air. She was also known as the patron of sailors and travelers and was invoked for good fortune in daily life. Kynareth was heavily associated with nature and healing, and many came to the Temple of Kynareth because of sickness. I told her that in Elsweyr, Kynareth was known as Khenarthi. She looked at me surprised and then remarked how Men, Mer, and Beastfolk seemed to worship the same deities.

Glancing back at the Gildergreen, Fralia murmured that it would take a miracle from Kyne to restore the wilting tree. The old woman spoke with such reverence that I could not help but see the Gildergreen in the same light as so many in Whiterun did. I knew then that when I returned from High Hrothgar, I would find a way to retrieve Nettlebane and collect the Eldergleam Sap so that I could restore this sacred tree. With such a monumental journey ahead of me, I bid Fralia farewell, promising that I would speak to her when I returned to Whiterun.

I entered the Temple of Kynareth and made an offering at her Shrine, “Come to me, Khenarthi, for without you, I might not know the mysteries of the world, and so blind and in terror, I might consume and profane the abundance of your beautiful treasures.”