User blog:Wallac/The Journal of Edwinn Qwent

20th Last Seed 4E 201
Skyrim is not as hospitable as they would have you believe. It's less so.

Not three days ago I was captured crossing the Pale pass, not illegal the last time I checked, though that was a while ago, before the Stormcloaks really kicked off. Anyway I blundered straight into an Imperial ambush and had my hands bound before being tossed in a cart and hauled off to the gods know where. I might be a Stormcloak sympathiser, but thats not the point, I met some men on the road, arrows started flying and figures started trying to kill each other, all I did was heft my shield and draw my sword. It's not my fault that a soldier took a swing at me.

By Lorkan's eyes if I wasn't sat by the Bear of Markarth himself, bound as I was but also gagged. Those rumours about Skyrim's last High King must be true, or else the Imperials are taking no chances. Helgen, thats where they took us, one of the Stormcloaks said something about a girl and juniper berries and mentioned the name. I will never forget that place. Nothing no crime of villager, rebel, soldier, horse-thief or Breton vagabond could possibly have justified what happened to that place. I'm no fool. I'm a Breton, High Rock is a land steeped in History, in Legend, Myth. I know a dragon when I see one. And this was one mean looking bastard. Of course I had a ringside seat for the destruction of Helgen, what with my head being on the block, literally. Whatever else that dragon did it saved my life.

You would think that a man would catch a few breaks having just been unintentionally saved from wrongful execution by a semi-mythical creature's fiery rampage. But no Mephala had one last trick to play. You would also think that, what with a fire spewing dragon attacking one of the Empire strongest bases in Tamriel and the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion on loose, the soldiers would have more pressing matters than an escaped Breton. After most of the garrison, the torturer, his apprentice, a bear and some giant spiders Ralof, a Nord with the wit to see that not dying from dragonfire is easier unbound, guided me to a village named Riverwood. After a days rest I set of for Whiterun to speak to the Jarl on behalf of Riverwood, naturally some wolves attacked on the way.

Now, I'm sat in the Bannered Mare writing what seems to be a pointless exercise while preparing for a trip to some place called Bleak Falls Barrow. It's some old ruin near Riverwood, I've been coerced into retrieving a stone tablet or something, it might not even be there.

No doubt the pace will be crawling with bandits, still it can't get much worse than a dragon can it?