Deflorator's game, 24–27 Sun's Dusk (Solitud – Hviterun – Riverwood)

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SPOILER INFO
This unfinished story follows closely my actions in an actual game, so it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous chapter






The author has chosen to remove the text of this unfinished game report, because he is no longer happy with it.

Sleeping Tree Camp

Earlier with Camilla.

next chapter

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (273) About Time!

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it inevitably reveals a lot about the game.
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previous day 






4-202-05-19 04:51
Sleeping Giant Inn, Riverwood, Whiterun, Skyrim


I had a strange and terrible nightmare. Vague scenes of entering one cave after another and slaying dozens and dozens of people who just sat there and didn't do anything. I knew somehow that they had plans of coming out of their lair, descending the mountains and overrunning Riverwood, Helgen and Falkert, to establish their own little bandit kingdom in the area south of Lake Ilinalta. They didn't know the civil war was over. The thought of lovely beautiful peaceful Riverwood falling into the hands of those animals was making me sick, and at the same time I was nauseous from massacring a huge number of people who paid no attention to me when I entered, thinking I was one of them.

I don't know what the dream was supposed to mean. Was it prescience of what we'd need to do for Faralda's quest, or a discharge of my accumulated repulsion at things I've had to do so far?

We're headed southeast to find North Skybound Watch, where there's supposed to be a pedestal onto which I'll have to place Faralda's book and cast a frost spell at it. To tell you the truth, I'm not at all sure we can even ascend the mountains from this direction. Until now, we have only traveled along the path that passes the Fox Club, leads southwestwards and ends up on the road to Helgen. Hadvar said there's another path up the hills. I hope we can find it.

"Laura," I hear Jordis's voice as we're walking along the empty street towards the Fox Club.
"What?"
"Can we not go up there? Please."
I look at her. She doesn't seem to be aware that she's trembling. It can't be cold.
"Okay."
I turn around and head back towards the inn. Apparently Jordis has had some kind of a horrible precognition of her own, possibly because she was sleeping with me, but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it. Let's just go to Hviterun. Not that I can't make decisions without Jenassa all of a sudden. I'm just reluctant to hang around and let the villagers notice us not going to the mountains after all and start wondering why. Besides, I've told you I've been feeling for some time now that I've had enough adventures. This seems like a welcome excuse to start taking it easy.

On the corner of the main street, we turn right and head for the city. The sun hasn't quite risen yet.

I lead us through the forest. With any luck, the wolves should leave us alone today.

When we're across the hills and are seeing the houses in the valley, I tell Lydia and Ghorbash to run ahead, and motion Jordis to sit down next to me.

I look at her. "Anything you want to tell me? A scary dream?" I know and she knows I've had many prophetic dreams, so why couldn't she? We've learned to take such things seriously.
"I saw myself getting killed. We went into a cave with 20 or 30 men and we started to shoot at them, and then one of them ran to me and stabbed me to death, snap, just like that. I know it's silly, but..."
I don't say anything.
"Laura, I'd like to take a break."
I'm still not sure how to reply, because what she says is so eerily reflecting what I've been feeling.
"I can look after your house in Markarth," Jordis says hesitantly.
My house? It's our house.
"I'm terribly sorry."
"Jordis..." I reach out to touch her arm. "It's all right. I... of course you can take some time off. We can run with Valdimar, it's no problem at all. Besides, I haven't really realized until now how fed up I am with wandering around and killing people. Especially those fucking stupid caves where you can't see properly. And putting you all in danger. I'm so sorry!" To my own and certainly Jordis's utter astonishment, I suddenly break out in sobs.

Apparently, Jordis is at loss what to do with me, because it takes a while until I feel her getting closer and hugging me gingerly.

The following minutes are a little blurry. When I've finally composed myself, we lie in the grass in embrace – not doing anything sexual, just trying to be as close as possible, in order to give each other support and reassurance.

And the wolves did leave us alone.  :-)

It's clear to me now that I have enough of being the hero Dragonborn. I no longer enjoy traveling around Skyrim. That is because I have too much to lose. Remember I told you on the first days of my adventures that I have to go out and do things or I'll never achieve anything? That's in the past now. I have achieved a lot. I no longer need to expose myself to dangers.
"We'll travel to Solitud and tell Elisif you're ready to leave now, okay?" says Jordis as if reading my thoughts.
I loosen myself from the embrace and turn and look her timidly in the eyes. She was the one trembling, and now she has to comfort me instead.
I nod. It's high time to put an end to this madness. My parents and siblings don't even know I'm alive, yet I'm roaming about Skyrim pursuing fuck knows what.
When I say that to Jordis, she asks: "Does your feeling guilty make anyone happy?"

This is the moment that changes everything for me. Sometimes a simple question with an obvious answer can make you see something you have been blind to until then.

D o e s   y o u r   f e e l i n g   g u i l t y   m a k e   a n y o n e   h a p p y ?

I'm suddenly aware how I have been beating myself up unnecessarily. It doesn't sound like much when I say it like this, but I really feel like a switch has been turned in my brain.
[B]I am leaving forever behind the remorse for having done what I had to do. I will rejoice and appreciate all the beautiful things in my life. No more emotional suicide.[/B]

I have to laugh and Jordis laughs and we hug and help each other get up and start walking downhill towards the farm southwest of Hviterun.

There are 18 days until Lydia's birthday. After that, I'll leave for High Rock. Until then, I'll just get some rest and spend time with my loved ones and such. No more killing. I've really had enough. And I've done enough. No one can deny that. Alduin is dead and the civil war is over. I have every right to wash my hands of the new war and all the remaining bandits and whatever magical threats that may emerge. Remember, I said a long time ago that the fate of Skyrim ultimately lies in the hands of the people of Skyrim themselves? Now the time has arrived when they'll have to make do without me.

I'd say their prospects look very good.

I stretch out my hand and Jordis takes it. We descend unhurriedly, looking at the windmill and the fields and the houses and the city as if seeing it all for the first time, taking it all in, grateful to be alive and to be together and able to see and hear and smell and feel all this.



epilogue: 21 days later






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (160) The Road More Traveled

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day






4-202-01-25 05:38
Uthgerd's House, Hviterun, Whiterun, Skyrim


Lucia is still sleeping. I leave the house on tiptoes. There's time until the shops will open, so I talk to the guards and innkeepers asking them if they know anyone in the city who could be called an artist. I need it for that girl's ghost in that underworld realm Blackreach. They haven't heard anything of the kind. Neither am I having any luck in the temple and in the Hall of the Dead. Frankly, I wasn't expecting much to start with. I rather have the feeling the "artist" is no longer among the living and I ought to search for him in sewers and under bridges and such.

It's still raining cats and dogs. Looks like all the water I missed by not sailing away with that ship in Solitud is now being poured down on me from the sky. That doesn't keep Heimskr from his preaching. I keep him company for a while and let him tell me about his work, and then the shops open. Lucia accompanies me, braving the awful weather.

About noon, the rain ceases. My followers who slept elsewhere have joined me by now. We hear there's a dragon in the eastern suburb. I sternly order Lucia to run up to the palace and stay inside until the danger is over. Me and my followers hurry out the eastern city gate and help the guards kill the beast.

On my way back to the city proper, I run into Mikki and use the opportunity to ask her about the triple murder in Jorrvaskr. She says the Companions are keeping very quiet about it. Mikki hoped to find out something from the old cleaning lady, but she is clearly terrified of the topic. The others are even more tight-lipped, to the extent that Mikki herself became increasingly afraid of bringing the incident up. I suggest her to let it go. If the Companions want us to mind our own business, we will. The last thing I want is for Mikki to get murdered too.

This grim story has totally failed to ruin my mood. It's hard to put it into words how much I enjoy being in Hviterun. Frankly, my reaction to walking from place to place and talking to the people astonishes myself. I feel a connection to this city unlike to any other location in the world. I don't even miss Falskaar anymore. Or maybe I do just a little bit.

Most amazingly, I succeed in making up with my ex-boyfriend Yourg. He agrees to talk to me this time, and I apologize for having broken up with him. Actually I didn't do anything wrong, but apologizing costs nothing and I don't want him to feel bad. His anatomical shortcomings are not his fault. I'm not going to be with him ever again, but now we can at least look each other in the eye and say hello in a civil manner.

But enough of this. Paarthurnax is waiting for me and the Elder Scroll up on top of Mount Nexus. I leave some money with Carlotta. After all, we're practically one family. I mean, we don't sleep together, but she takes care of Lucia, and it's better when she handles the money. Lucia doesn't mind. She realizes it's safer that way.

Just as me and my followers are running south towards the crossing southeast of Hviterun, we see balls of fire flying from the eastern bank of White River in the general direction of the Honningbrew Meadery.

We hurriedly cross the river and find two mages in a fierce fight. Evidently this has nothing to do with the meadery, they are aiming their magic at each other and occasionally it flies somewhere else. They pay no attention to us as we crouch well hidden and observe them.

Our tactic is clear – wait until one mage has killed the other and then kill the survivor. But the combat lasts so long that I get impatient and when I get impatient I start having stupid ideas. I figure I can just as well make use of the time and sneak up the slope, so that by the time one of the mages is killed, I shall have the additional advantage of elevation.

That has the result that both mages notice me and decide to attack us instead of each other. With horrible-looking fire and ice things flying at me and past me, I have to fight them both at the same time. They're not too difficult for the four of us to defeat, but I should have just remained in my perfect shooting position behind that rock on the roadside and waited (or at least shot one of the mages in the back while they were not seeing us).

That's the fire mage:

That's the ice mage:

That's the city:

And that's the road to Riverwood:

Without wasting any more time, we cross that very bridge and head south.

Whenever the weather is good (as it is now), Riverwood is utterly adorable. We do some shopping and say hello to old friends. I wonder if Rudelphine is there. No, the secret room is empty. I guess she went with that old man to reestablish the Blades organization or something. Come to think of it, just because she and I found out some stuff about dragons doesn't mean the thalmors are no longer after her. Considering all that's happened, she can hardly expect to be safe in Riverwood any longer.

I, however, feel I really ought to take a break for a couple of weeks or at least days in this region. I mean, take some time off and enjoy hanging around in the city doing nothing. Be together with my stepdaughter. Maybe take her on a trip to Riverwood or even Blackmoor.

Whatever. It's getting late and we need to hurry. We must at least reach the Falkreath Stormcloak Camp before complete darkness. I know, I have that Circlet of Night Eye, but it only affects my eyesight, not that of my followers, so it's only for emergencies.

The weather is nice and everything on this route is so familiar that I barely pay attention to anything. Not only do we reach that stork camp, we even get through the mountain pass in pretty decent light, so we go and pay a visit to the Rift Imperial Camp as well.

We reach Ivarsted at half past 7 in the evening.

I'm pleasantly surprised to see that Marni's shop is still open. I also bring Temba, the owner of the sawmill, the bear pelts she wanted. She's incredibly haughty. Instead of being grateful, she treats me like a maid who has been good enough to be spared the daily beating today. I should kill Temba, but the village needs her.

After some walking around and gossiping, we retire for the night at the inn.

I can hear my followers falling asleep rather quickly. (As I've told you, Lydia and I sleep in separate beds at inns, to avoid being accidentally seen in an awkward situation.) My thoughts go onto our tomorrow's visit to High Hrothgar, then the soothing peacefulness in the Whiterun Hold and how we must do everything in our power to keep the war away from Skyrim's last stronghold of safety and sanity.

As my thoughts wander backwards along our yesterday's route, past Hviterun to Dragonbridge and Solitud, the ghastly sight of Montaigu's mutilated corpse emerges in my mind's eye, and those executioners with axes one can see walking around in Solitud from time to time. It reminds me of the bloody head of that Stormcloak soldier on the ground in front of me when I was kneeling at a chopping block in Helgen, from which my thoughts jump to the vile murder committed in Amber Creek by Svegard on Agnar's order a week ago. I just can't put it out of my mind. The prisoner said that he was afraid that if he'll tell Agnar where Jalma and Wilhard were taken to, Yngvarr will have him killed. Observe what Agnar replied:

Obviously, "I'll kill you if you don't," implies "I won't kill you if you do." Any sensible person would understand it like that. This means Jarl Agnar shamelessly broke his implied promise. Think about it: would the bandit have given Agnar any information on the hostages' whereabouts if he had known that as soon as he has done so, he'll be stabbed to death? Hardly, unless tortured to the point where he would have wished to die. He did not wish to die at that moment. He was ready to do anything to stay alive. But Jarl Agnar had a man who did him an enormous service killed without a second thought, casually as if smashing a mosquito. He is no better than Yngvarr.

Undeniably, Agnar has committed fewer crimes than Yngvarr, but that's because he is the king of Falskaar and thus can get his way simply by ordering people to do what he wants. Were he in Yngvarr's shoes and vice versa, things wouldn't necessarily be much different.

Wait. In fact, Yngvarr has so far only shown himself ruthless. He has not shown himself dishonorable. Not before my eyes, at any rate. I have only heard horrible things about him. My instinct tells me very strongly his word is to be trusted not a bit more than Agnar's, but I have no hard facts yet.

Stop, Laura, I tell myself. Enough of this crap. You need to get some sleep.

I force my thoughts back onto the sunny marketplace in Hviterun. I imagine how Lucia and Mila are running errands for Carlotta, how Anoriath and Fralia are praising their wares behind their adjacent stalls, how Jon is chatting up young women passing by. Then I imagine Corianna at her cookshop in Riverwood, her husband sitting on the pier, fishing, listening to the birdsong and watching the water in the river flow by... I begin to sink into sleep.



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (113) Ways of Spending an Afternoon

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day






4-201-12-07 04:15
Vilemyr Inn, Ivarsted, The Rift, Skyrim

We leave for Riverwood shortly before sunrise. I'm sure we'll reach it comfortably today, no matter what delays we may have along the way.

Our trip through the mountain pass and past Helgen is eventless. We arrive in Riverwood by the southern road. The weather is wonderful, the village is waking to life.

Rudelphine knows Esbern and is visibly happy with the news that he's alive. She says he was an archivist, meaning he would know all about the information the Blades organization had gathered about the dragons. It makes sense the thalmors are eager to find Esbern, says Rudelphine, so if he lives in Bitchen, he's probably very well hidden, which is why I should begin my search by contacting the underworld. She recommends I talk to Brynjolf who is well connected. He'd be the one the most likely to be able to give me a lead.

I don't deem it necessary to inform Rudelphine that talking to Brynjolf wouldn't be feasible. Fortunately, Lydia has heard Maul mention a crazy old man who lives in the moderately repulsive dungeon which can be reached by a door somewhere in the Ratway inn. Maybe that's Esbern. I'll check that dungeon out. In my own good time.

I visit the shops in Riverwood, chat with Sigrid on the street, and magnanimously acknowledge the little Frodnar's warning not to get on his and his dog's bad side.

Our next destination is Labyrinthian and the shortest way is from here to Hviterun along the road (or almost) and then straight over the plains to the mountain pass which is south of Labyrinthian.

Come to think of it, it's such a lovely morning we could just as well sit on the riverbank and chat the day away with Corianna, the proprietress of the cookshop across the river, or maybe keep company to her husband the fisher. I mean, she doesn't actually have to stand behind the counter all the time, does she? We could just as well sit outside in a place where she can see when a customer comes.

Well, never mind that. We've got a world to save.

Before I forget – as I've told you, I've been just a tiny bit apprehensive of my having to decide whether or not to dimiss Mikki and how she might feel if I did. Luckily, Mikki takes the dilemma off my hands. When I headed for the Riverwood alchemy shop just a while ago, Lydia walked with me. She said that yesterday Mikki asked her cautiously how does she think I would react if Mikki told me she wanted to take a break in Hviterun. She'd really like to spend some time with her sisters and friends and the Companions.

That's why I do sit on the riverbank before we leave Riverwood, but this is with Mikki alone. I inform her it's no problem at all if she wants to enjoy city life for a change.

I make it a point to tell Mikki she has proven herself a capable warrior. We have always been able to rely on her to do her part of the job. She has also been a good companion and acted like a responsible adult. And (as I've already told you) she has turned out to be the only one who can run as fast as I can.

Our usual travel formation is with me running in the front at some distance from the others. That's because I'm the fastest runner and the best sneaker. It's much easier for one person to remain undetected than for a group of four. Even when I'm spotted running, I have a good chance to get quickly into hiding so that the enemy will lose sight of me. That's with the exception of animals, but I can handle those without any assistance.

Of course, it was very different in the beginning when my followers were far better fighters than me. But by now, it's clearly safer for all of us if I work as the vanguard, taking the possible first hit, shortly after which my three followers will surprise the enemy from a distance with their devastating firepower (or rather frostpower in our case).

Mikki is usually the second because, firstly, that's the safest place, and, secondly, because she can run much faster than Lydia and Jenassa. By now she's gotten over her initial insecurity and she's usually by my side a few seconds after I'm attacked. Lydia gives us fire support from a distance and Jenassa does the same while also keeping an eye out for potential pursuers. She doesn't actually have eyes in her back, but she's very good at spreading her attention in every direction. That's my weak point, which is why I need my back watched.

In places like fortress courtyards, we spread out as much as we comfortably can, to avoid giving the enemies one big target. In narrow passages, we can't keep as far away from each other as we'd like to, but it doesn't matter so much, because the walls shield us from the enemy much of the time and my Sense of Smell  almost always detects them first.

Anyway, I tell Mikki she has totally deserved some rest in the midst of the comforts of the civilization, but I shall always be happy to have her back. Unless of course she gets married. As I expected, Mikki makes a face and tells me to shut up. I laugh and say: let's get going.

The forest between Riverwood and Hviterun is peaceful today.

I remember how I stood just a little bit easterly from this spot almost 4 months ago, looking at Hviterun for the first time.
How things have changed since then!

We go to the Honningbrew Meadery where I try to make the owner Sabjorn talk about his conflict with Maven Black-Briar. He won't. Too bad for him.

As we saunter towards the eastern suburb, admiring the river, I ask Jenassa innocently where she's going to sleep tonight.
"Why, what's you problem?"
I'm taken aback by such a hostile reaction. "All right, forget it. I'm sorry I asked. I can just as well ask tomorrow where you slept. And it's not really my business anyway."
She sighs. "I'm sorry, Laura. I didn't mean to... I'm just confused. I need some time to think."
Sure. She needs time to think. She's only had a month to think about it. I look at Lydia behind Jenassa's back and we both roll our eyes in silent agreement.
Mikki won't leave it at that, though. "Jenassa, aren't you forgetting that we are here to help each other think when we're confused?"
Wow. I didn't expect something so profound from a teenager.
Jenassa stops and looks at the ground pensively. Then she raises her eyes and says: "All right. Let's sit down and you can tell me what you think. You guys wanna get drunk first?" She looks at Mikki. "Not you."
Mikki acts offended, but she knows she's not going to drink anything alcoholic while in sight of any of us. She just hates to be reminded of her age. Er... as is Jenassa, as it occurs to me. The irony of it makes me laugh in spite of myself.
They all look at me and I solve the awkward situation by putting my hand on Jenassa's shoulder and motioning her to start walking again. "I'd say let's go to the palace and see then. I've always felt better after I've talked to you, Jenassa, and I'd really like to hope I'm capable of returning your kindness."
This seems to have been the right thing to say. Jenassa hugs me back with one hand and then we walk towards the houses.

This is the White River just east of Hviterun.

After visiting the traders in the suburb, we enter the city proper through the eastern gate.

First we go to the palace where I re-hire Jordis and let Mikki go. I also cast meaningful glances at Farengar and smile coyly when he catches me looking at him. I want to make love to someone tonight, because starting from tomorrow I shall once again have to take a break for four days or so. As for with whom – that's the tricky part. Technically, I'm still with Avulstein, but he has turned out very disappointing in a certain sense. (I can't understand why it's been so difficult to find a man in this city who is both likeable and unattached.) I don't dare make a pass at Jarl Balgruuf, so I'm thinking I'll take a chance with Farengar. Of course we'll have to wait for the night, because during the working hours, the palace personnel is walking in and out of Farengar's office with a variety of requests, so he can't leave even shortly, except for food breaks, and those are served at those long tables in the main hall.

The necessary wait is going to give me the perfect opportunity to, firstly, participate in the session of the Complicated Relationships Committee, and, secondly, work on me and my followers' gear after that. Ready to dive into item 1, I turn around and let my eyes wander over the dining area. I can't see Jenassa anywhere. I step up to Lydia and Jordis. They inform me that Jenassa went away with... Mikki! Apparently they're sitting outside the palace on a bench, talking from heart to heart.

I think at first the girls are pulling my leg, but then I go outside and indeed I can see Jenassa and Mikki talking. I don't want them to notice me staring, so I just walk down towards the marketplace to find my stepdaughter Lucia.

I'm not sure what the stairs are for. Surely no one ever bathes here.

I meet Aela. We talk about this and that and he happens to mention a location called Blackmoor. I ask where it is and she wonders I've never been there, as it's not too far from the city. She shows it to me on the map. It's in the west-northwest, between Hviterun and Roriksted.

We walk together to the marketplace. Turns out this is an unusually busy day, so Lucia, Mila and Carlotta are having their hands full. I promise Lucia I'll talk to her later.

Somehow the midday heat is really wearing me down. I stroll absent-mindedly to my house where I lie down for a moment on the mattress. Before I know it, I've fallen asleep.



next awakening






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Deflorator's game, 18–19 Last Seed (Riverwood–Hviterun)

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SPOILER INFO
This unfinished story follows closely my actions in an actual game, so it's inevitably a spoiler.
———————————————




previous chapter






The author has chosen to remove the text of this unfinished game report, because he is no longer happy with it.

I sympathize with the Nords whose religion is being oppressed, but I'm not at all fond of Ulfric and the Stormcloaks' philosophy.

next chapter

Deflorator's game, 17 Last Seed (Helgen–Riverwood)

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SPOILER INFO
This unfinished story follows closely my actions in an actual game, so it's inevitably a spoiler.
———————————————




The author has chosen to remove the text of this unfinished game report, because he is no longer happy with it.




*  *  *  *  *

Are you kidding, Alvor? What kind of a man wouldn't like Elisif?

next chapter

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (1) Strange Fightfellows

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it inevitably reveals a lot about the game.
———————————————




  






4-201-08-17 08:00
somewhere in Tamriel


Good morning, I guess. I hope yours is better than mine. Having opened my eyes, I find myself sitting in a horse cart which is moving along a country road. My hands are bound (but my feet aren't) and there are three men sitting in the same cart. I notice with relief that their hands are bound as well.

While my fellow "passengers" are exchanging information as to who is from where, I'm wondering if I could get my wrists out of these ropes. Probably not, and I kind of guess that even if I succeeded in freeing my hands, the soldiers who are following our cart on horseback would notice it and tie me up again.

The men in the cart ask me some questions and I give them laconic answers, because I don't know anything about who they are and what they might be up to. I pretend to be not fully awake yet and they leave me alone, engaging in some political discussion which I find difficult to follow. I'm afraid to ask them if they know where we are being taken to and by whom and for what purpose. I'd better keep quiet and use the forced wait to introduce myself to you. I'm a Breton woman. My name is Laura. I'm unsure about my age, but I feel like early 20's most of the time. So let's make it 22 if it suits you. I have blue eyes and long black hair. I like to think I'm beautiful. For the time being, you'll have to take my word for it, as it'll be a while before I can show you pictures of myself. You'll understand my situation. Getting out of this predicament is my top priority at the moment.

I hope I'm not entirely hopeless as a fighter, but with tied wrists, not even the best fighter in the world would have a chance alone against those armed guards. I must rely on my co-prisoners having a plan of some kind. I mean, I wouldn't mind a divine intervention or sudden awakening from a nightmare, but let's remain realistic.

That said, I do have an ethereal being of sorts who guides me and watches over me. My higher self. I am not allowed to say his real name (yes, my higher self is male), so he'll be Bardslayer to you. I'm not sure where the nickname comes from. Maybe he doesn't like people who sing a lot. But what I was getting at is that while I have vague memories of many places, people and events, I don't really know what this particular location is called and how I got here. There are things I know (such as the human language, evidently) and there are things I know I have experienced sometime, somewhere, but I can't remember anything specific. Everything that's happened to me before my waking up a few minutes ago is a complete blank. The man Ralof in this cart says I was trying to cross the border. Guess I was then. Lokir, another man in the cart, mentioned a while ago that the region where we are is called Skyrim. Sure, why not. Had he said it's called Viridilignia, I would've had no reason to doubt him.

Just so you don't get the wrong idea of me, my higher self is nothing like a voice in my head. Even though I occasionally say that Bardslayer "told" me this or that, it's just a figure of speech. I have never spoken to him. I don't even know if he has a voice. But during my sleep he often sends me dreams about things, including some I can impossibly have ever experienced for real. Such as being a Khajiit man. That was rather weird. Also, Bardslayer occasionally lets me know what is the right thing to do. Warns me of dangers. I don't know how. I would just suddenly get a hunch that something terrible would happen if I were to proceed with what I'm about to do.

Guess things are coming back to me slowly. I'm not sure exactly what Bardslayer is, though. He can achieve things that are physically or magically impossible, but he can't be a god, nor a manifestation of a god. He's not as powerful as gods are. But it's good enough for me. Speaking of gods, Lokir just mentioned two goddesses, Mara and Dibella. Those names sound distinctly familiar. I have memories of praying to them occasionally, but I rather think it's just, you know, trying to stay on the good side of everyone mighty. Generally, I trust Bardslayer to guard me.

I got carried away, sorry. Let us return to the present moment and sum up the situation. I am lost in an unknown world which I somehow know to be called Tamriel. Unknown as it may be, it still looks quite... you know... right. Believable. World-like. Spruce trees, snow here and there, chilly weather but not too uncomfortably cold... If we were to reason logically (my higher self likes logic, which is of course natural for a male), I must have been born and raised in a place quite similar to this one, or maybe a little warmer. Mind you, that's just a speculation. I don't actually remember. Not a thing.

There's another cart ahead of us, with four more prisoners in it. They look quite soldierlike. So do two of the men in my cart – Ralof and Ulfric. Ralof has the appearance of an ordinary soldier, but Ulfric seems to be a big noise. He's so important that they have bound his mouth as well. I wonder what it is that's so secret that we the other prisoners aren't allowed to hear it. The third guy Lokir, as I have learned by now, is a horse-thief. He looks very haggard. Probably needed to steal that horse to save himself from starvation. What I don't quite understand is what am I doing in this lot. I observe the men's faces as well as I can without being conspicuous. None of them rings a bell. I don't dare talk to them, because I might make myself suspicious by not knowing something I'm supposed to know. Fortunately, none of the men pays any special attention to me. They look downcast, which is understandable. They have mentioned that we are prisoners of the "Imperials". I take it to mean that Ulfric and Ralof have been rebelling against an empire which this location is a part of. And poor Lokir just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As, I suppose, did poor Laura.

The cart is arriving in a village. There are people in front of their houses looking at us. One-storey wooden houses. A medium-sized peasant community like any other. Except that not every farming village has a high defense wall and massive gates.

The sun is coming out now. Time seems to drag on like syrup. Eventually we arrive at a, um, scaffold? The thing where criminals have their heads chopped off. Is this real? Guys, are we going to do something or will we just let ourselves be slaughtered like cattle? The way Ralof's been talking, he seems to intend to do just that.

We're ordered off the cart. There's a man with a sheet of paper in his hand. Hadvar is his name. Not the prettiest man around here, but I kind of feel his heart is in the right place. Maybe I could persuade him to let me go if it wasn't for that small woman in a shining iron-y armor who acts like she's the boss here. I guess that's because she is. No, that's an even shorter man they call General Tullius. But the woman is determined to make it clear to everyone who the second-in-command is. She's armored like a small fortress and talks to (or rather barks at) everyone with such hostility as if someone had just stolen her favorite earrings. "Captain" they call her. I'll call her "metal bitch".

"Who are you?" I hear the man's question. Can't you ask something simpler? Laura is the name and that's really all I can tell them. I try to explain I don't even know any of the other prisoners, but I can see they're not convinced. Still, the Important Ones are a little puzzled and look at each other. They're like: shall we execute her with the others? Yeah, let's, why not?

I think it's a rotten idea, but nobody is interested in my opinion. Too bad for me.

So, in case it's not yet entirely clear to some of you, dear readers – we are supposed to walk to that chopping block one by one, and the executioner is going to... That's too horrible to even speak out loud. But it's happening right now. No, Lokir has a different idea. His hands still bound, he makes a dash for it. After maybe 40–50 meters, he falls down with arrows in his back. Maybe that's a better way to die?

The first man walks to the block. It's weird, but he seems impatient to get it over with and to go to some place called Sovngarde. That large axe cuts through his neck like butter. What was a walking, talking human being a few seconds ago is now a lump of lifeless flesh and blood. Why?

Now the metal bitch is telling me to walk to the block. I drag my feet. Is there a chance that the axe will fall off the handle? Whatever, just help me, somebody! I know it sounds like a cliche, but I really don't want to die. It's too soon. I feel like I haven't even properly lived.

Why does it have to happen? It's not right. I haven't done anything, have I? More precisely, I don't remember. [Chuckle.] I may have done lots of things, but is it right to execute someone who can't remember her crimes? There's no one to ask.

I get on my knees. The chopping block has blood all over it. Do I really have to touch it with my body? All right, all right, no need to push so roughly!

Is that all, Bardslayer? Is this where we part forever? Or shall I have a reincarnation? Will I remember more in my next life? Will I remember this?

He's not answering.

They didn't even have the decency to take away that horrible head. I look to the left to not have to see it. The executioner's armor looks really cool, actually. Then I see how something comes flying and lands on top of a citadel. Or should I say "a small tower"? A mini-tower? Well, you get the idea. That flying thing is a huge animal. Wait, I know it! The word's "dragon". They're called dragons. The metal bitch barks: "Sentries! What do you see?" A minute ago she acted like she owned the world. Now she suddenly doesn't know which way is up without someone telling her.

I hear a deafening noise, the ground shakes and everything in front of my eyes turns yellow for a moment. The big man with the axe turns away from me. He has righfully decided that he has more important concerns right now than chopping my head off. Bardslayer, did you do this?

"Hey, Breton, get up!" I believe to recognize Ralof's voice. "Come on, the gods won't give us another chance." Yeah, good idea. I get on my feet. Things aren't exactly easy with your hands tied, but I'll have to make the best of what I have. Said the camel with one hump. Camel? What camel?? Dammit, Laura, get serious! You absolutely have to get away from that bloody piece of stone. And into some cover, I suppose, as the dragon is spitting fire.

I run, climb, jump, run, dodge, turn, run... Lucky at least my hands are tied in the front and not behind my back. I'm seeing Hadvar now. He no longer has the list with names. He tells me to follow him. Doesn't seem to have my death on his mind anymore. He's rather worried about his own life. He runs fast and I struggle to keep up with him and not to fall and smash my dear little nose. Things flash by. Then there's Ralof again. He and Hadvar quickly exchange a few insults before going their separate ways, each one inviting me to go with him. A whole two guys ready to help me escape. Now we're talking!

I'm going with Hadvar. I mean, earlier in that horse-cart, Ralof was too accepting of getting executed soon. Not the kind of man a woman ought to hang around with. On second thought, Hadvar might deliver me to the authorities once we're out of here. Well, too late for that thought now. I've already followed him into that stone building. We are alone in a large room with some pieces of furniture.

Hadvar unties my hands. Gosh, that feels good. See, I was right about him! He likes me. I have to confess it's mutual. But let's hold that thought for the time being. I'll like him even more when we are as far away as possible from that oversized tinderbox beast.

Hadvar tells me to look around and grab some weapons and armor. Awesome. Ideas keep getting better. We find a simple sword and a light armor. Nice. I hate those heavy clunky things. That metal bitch – if someone had toppled her, would she have been able to stand up by herself, I wonder. Yes, yes, Hadvar, I know we have to move on. I'm almost done... in a moment.

A little tight up there, but I can live with that. Hope I can stay alive as well.

I feel clumsy with a sword, but I can't find a bow. I search everywhere. Too thoroughly, some may say. To tell you the truth, I need time to get over my recent shock. There are some beds. Is it all right if I sleep a little? Joking, Hadvar, joking! I could impossibly sleep here. Please wait, I'm good to go! I do want to come with you!

I run after him along dim stone corridors. I'm scared. I just remembered a dream I had one night not so long ago. I was in a swordfight together with a man against three or four enemies, and I got struck down, conscious but unable to move, watching my companion and the enemies exchanging blows furiously. I felt embittered by my inability to help him, afraid that someone might just walk up to me and kill me or something... But then the battle was suddenly over, and the man and I were running along an empty corridor, and a fierce animal appeared out of nowhere and tore me in pieces.

I'm sorry. It's this dungeon that is putting me into morose mood. I like a bright sunny day, and I like romantic darkness, but I hate crappy light indoors. Although it beats running between burning houses...

Hadvar stops. We can hear people talking. There's a round room, properly lighted for a change. A man and a woman. They're a little like us. But they don't like us. I mean, why else would the man raise that huge ugly sharp thing and run at me, yelling? Hey, do we have to do this? Yeah, seems we do. Too bad. You could have been happy together. Well, maybe not very happy, but it's so stupid to fight people when a dragon could bring this whole structure down on our heads any moment. I don't even know anything about that war of yours.

We kill. We run. Kill some more. Run some more. As far as I can tell, we have left the castle (or whatever it was) and are now moving along a system of caves looking for a way to the surface. I'm tired. Lucky at least I find some food and water. In the first room, there was only wine. This is assuredly neither the place nor the time for a lady to get drunk. There's a little problem with the water, though. It's in a creek, and the creek is guarded by half a dozen angry people with swords and things. Well, maybe they don't guard the creek as such. Maybe they're just in the habit of killing people they don't know well. Anyway, I forgot to mention that there are now three of us. One guy joined us a little while ago. It was in a torture chamber, but I have no time to tell you about it. They didn't torture anyone back there, but now some bastard is shooting arrows into my lovely body. Hadvar and the other guy whose name I don't even know are making a hell of a crash fighting someone across a small bridge, but two of the enemies are farther away shooting at us, mostly me. I don't have a bow, so I just do what I can – run to the archers as fast as I can, hit them with my sword as fast as I can (I'm getting the hang of it, you know!), then run away to heal myself, then run back when at full health to hit them some more. It's a long and crazy fight. A couple of the enemy swordfighters want to surrender, but my boys know no mercy, and I'm not going to stop them.

We kill them all. There's a smell of blood everywhere. Too much blood for one day. But I have a premonition that I'm going to have to get used to it. Hadvar urges me to hurry. The torturer's assistant is no longer there. Must have gotten killed. Maybe it's better that way. Traveling with two men I just met is scary enough without one of them being a torturer's assistant.

Hadvar and I run along a creek, then enter a passage. And run straight into utterly horrible spiders. Don't laugh! I'm not afraid of spiders like most women, but if they are as large as dogs and drop down onto my head, it's decidedly yucky.

Having killed the spiders, we move on. Then Hadvar shows me a sleeping bear and suggests we can get past it by sneaking. Anything you say. After a few more scary passages, we're out in the open. There's still daylight.

Now Hadvar is talking to me. He thanks me for helping him escape. We'd better split up and meet in Riverwood where his relatives live, he says. Just to the end of this road and then to the right along the river bank.

No, my dear fellow, we're not splitting up. I'm going to walk right behind you all the way to that Riverwood place or anywhere else you may be going that has houses and human beings and – if I'm allowed to make a humble request – no chopping blocks and no bloodthirsty captains.

You agree? I'm so glad you do. Before we hit the road, though, there's just one more thing I would like, Hadvar. You know... After everything we went through together today... Do I really have to spell it out for you? No, I can see I don't.

So, dear reader, if you would be kind enough to give us some privacy for maybe 20 or 30 minutes, please? Go grab yourself some food or something.

Thank you.

* * *

It's getting dark, but I can't help asking Hadvar questions about who were those imprisoned warriors (or Stormcloaks as they're properly called) and what is going on here. Strangely enough, I'm no longer afraid to show my ignorance. Finally we begin going in direction (I presume) of Riverwood. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to let Hadvar notice it. So I keep up with him bravely.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen. Must have flown home, wherever that may be. I hope he roasted the metal bitch. Forgive me if I'm boring you talking about her, but I just can't stand people who order to have my head chopped off.

I wonder if Ralof got away. Hope he doesn't think of me as his enemy just because I went with Hadvar.

Lokir... rest in peace. Stealing horses is a bad thing to do, but, you know, one feels kind of close to someone with whom one's been sentenced to death together. Come to think of it, had he waited instead of running away, he might be alive now.

Yes, I know this armor has room for improvement. But it's stronger than the one I previously had.
And the weather has gotten a lot warmer than it was during our trip to Helgen.

My thoughts wander back to the dragon returning to his nest. What might baby dragons be like? A dragon nest must be of fireproof material, or the chicks would burn it to ashes. Or will they get fire glands only when they're older?

Don't mind me, I'm just thinking silly thoughts to stay awake.

Hadvar stops now. He shows me some stone obelisks on the roadside that can improve your ability to learn certain skills... if I'm understanding him correctly. I have to choose one. Choose one stone out of the three? Is it really necessary? All right, I'll take this one, for the so-called Thief skills. I don't like the sound of it, but I know from Bardslayer that this category is more useful than the other two. Among the Thief skills are Speech and Sneaking. And Archery. I like archery. Swordfighting is kind of unladylike. A decent girl is not supposed to hit people. Except that sometimes you have to. Shooting arrows at them from a distance makes me feel less bad about hurting them. It also makes it harder for them to hit me. Getting hit is what I really really hate.

Stop---blabbing---Laura--- Don't you see that Hadvar is waiting, impatient to move on?

All right, Hadvar. Lead on. I'm sleepy no longer, as I'm afraid we'll be attacked by some wild animals any moment. I don't know why, I just have this strange fear. But then we are already seeing the village. Um... Hadvar, can we stop here at the riverbank for a moment, out of the villagers' sight? I feel really dirty. I mean, not because of what we did outside Helgen. I mean dirty as in haven't washed... yes, yes, I'll hurry it up. No, you don't have to turn away, silly. I don't have anything more to hide from you, have I? In fact, you'd better keep an eye on me while I have no armor on. I'd feel really stupid if I'd get eaten by wolves now that we're so close to safety.

And then we're in Riverwood at last. Nice village, nice people. I mean, every village not on fire seems nice to me right now. I exchange a few hellos. This is the kind of place where you greet people on the street even when you don't know them. A man named Alvor welcomes Hadvar cordially and asks us to come in. He wants to know everything about the dragon. Look, can we talk about it in the morning? I can't keep my eyes open any longer. And while we're on this topic, that bed looks really cozy. May I crash here just this once?

I don't hear their reply. I fall onto the bed with a crash. One hell of a day this was!



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