Dragons!

So, A quiet few steps up to the Jarl's meeting room, and a quick look at the occupants. I know I'm in trouble. The Jarl stands there, His housecarl follows me up and one random guard. One random, exhausted and fresh from a fight guard by the look of it.
I don't remember fighting any guards, but it's been a long week. Chunks of the week have already disappeared from my memory. So who knows?

A short story later, and I'm out running with the crazy warriors of the Jarl's personal troupe. Yeah. I'm going to fight a DRAGON. By choice. Well by order of the Jarl. Still, I could have refused. I could have. My sense of adventure kinda kicked into overdrive, and here I am. Standing at the bottom of a burned out guard tower, waiting to die.

Give me five. I'll just defeat this dragon, Drink a few beers with the guards and then see if the housecarl feels like getting naked. You know, It's all in a days work for an adventurer of my caliber...

(Oh christ, I think I'm gonna be sick. Flames don't fail me now.)
(Do flames work against dragons?)
(Who am I kidding? Nothing works against dragons. I'm totally gonna die.)

Adventures in Whiterun, And the Companions

Ah. It's been a while. Got lots to tell you now.
So, Last I wrote I was in Whiterun, hanging out in a nice local drinking establishment. Flirting with the ladies, Arguing with the men. I like these Nords. They're simple and direct. I say you're stupid, they punch me in the face, we fight, the guards stand aside and cheer us on, and when it's over... Well, we all get up off the floor, and go get a drink together.
It's my kind of place.
Anyway. I was here on a mission, so missioning I went. Wandered up to the Dragonsreach, passing Jorrvaskr on the way. Home of the Companions, and of Aela. Rawwr. I'll be heading there later for sure.
The doors to Dragonsreach were impressive. Huge and stunningly beautiful. The workmanship is fantastic. They opened wide for me, and I stepped into a deep hall, leading me down to the Jarl.
I like this Jarl. Lounging in his chair, chatting with his vassals. I cleared my passage to him with the Housecarl, and then was introduced.

You know, I think early I mentioned that the Gods were out to get me. It seems there are a few who are at least friendly. The Jarl took the news well, reacted with a firm hand, and then asked me to see his court wizard. Who requested I go to Bleak Barrow, and get a stone of some sort.

I handed him the stone.

Hah, That's just how GOOD I am. That and you know, I'd already fought my way through that crap to get laid by a random chick in Riverwood. Worked for me.

As we were talking, I was asked to join the Jarl. Something big was going down, and my services were required.

This doesn't bode well, I thought. Not well at all. So off I walk.

Limping into Whiterun.

I know. I'm a cat. A khajiit. It's none of my business what these Humans and Elves do to each other.

But I'm sorry. I see a Human in chains held by Elves, and my hand goes to my weapon.

This was probably a mistake.

Last I checked in, I was headed for Whiterun to report to the Jarl. Everything was going fine, until I turned a corner and stumbled on a group of Thalmor wandering the roads with an imprisoned Nord dragged between them. My ire was arisen. But I opted not to do anything, tried to keep my head down, walk on by. One of the Thalmor couldn't let me be though. Demanded I tell it to whom I owed my religious agreement.

I knew it was wrong. I knew it was a mistake. I knew what would happen. So I did it anyway.

The Thalmor can suck my tail.

Without a pause, I told the thing I worshiped Talos. It took two seconds for the Thalmor to register what I had said, another few seconds for it to get ready to attack me for my "Blasphemy". It took me less than a second to embed my mace in it's ugly face. Less than a second for me to turn my blasphemous hands into living flame, and douse the other two idiots with him.

The soldier they were dragging along was beaten, tired, and half dead. But now he was free. I handed him a sword and the old Stormcloak cuirass I was carting around, and sent him on his way.

The battle took no time at all. Honestly, how the empire suffered so at the hands of these incompetents I have no idea. But it took some out of me. Slightly more tired, and with my Magicka faintly drained. I walked on.

And straight into a pitched battle between some guys and a giant. In a farm. I guess the giant had wandered in and these guys were sent to dispatch it. I don't really know, I kinda forgot to ask, I was busy trying to help.
Jumped into the fray, arms aflame, mace up. It took the group of us a few seconds, and it took me getting slightly battered, but the giant went down.

The leader of the group (An attractive lady called Aela. I will be looking her up. Rawwr. Even though she smelled slightly of a dog. I guess she has a lot of pets.) Told me they were the companions. Descendants of the original warriors Ysgramor. Invited me to join them when I made it to whiterun. Then they legged it. Left me limping along behind. Ah well. I made it to the gate, and now I'm sat quietly at a table in The Bannered Mare a happy little inn run by a hot older filly by the name of Hulda. Try the Honeybrew Mead. It's delicious.

I'm going to bed now. I've drunk a little too much already, and I need a few hours sleep to heal.

Stupid giants.

Bandits.

Bandits. It's always Bandits. I hate Bandits.
I'm a cat, I like to stay nice and clean. These dirty little holes, with there dirty little inhabitants are no place for someone as pretty as I.
As per usual, though, what I want the Gods kindly ignore. I think one of them has it in for me. Probably Arkay, after I stole that gem from his temple all those years ago. But who knows? Wait, maybe it's Akatosh. It was a Dragon that attacked after all!

Getting distracted again.

Bandits.

So, I spent a nice few days having my fur stroked and purring with the beautiful young Camilla. All seemed wonderful, but her brother... Well. He seemed oddly distracted. Anytime I walked into the room, he'd look nervous. If they were both in a room together all conversation would stop once I entered. It was getting on my nerves. So finally I just out and asked. "In the name of Hermaeus Mora!, These secrets! What is going on?"

A story was spun, Not a very exciting one mind you, but still. A golden claw, stolen in the dead of night, and taken up to the Bleak Falls Barrow. Somehow, I ended up agreeing to go get it.

Don't ask me, I was caught up in the moment. Also, you know... Camilla was looking at me like I was a hero... Whatever.

So up I go, fighting through hordes of stupid damned bandits, (Boethiah take their souls.) Fighting a Frostbite spider (Big one! HUGE! I was so glad of my ability to throw flames...) And eventually meeting some dude caught in a web who had the claw.

I freed him, he promised to give the claw back, and then he tried to leg it.

It's so hard to run with a iron battle mace stuck in your head.

So, claw in hand, I continued down, down, down. Bandits were gone, but now there were these armies of undead THINGS. Fought 'em off like a warrior hero should. Starting to feel like Tiber Septim here! Maybe I'm more Jagar Tharn. I didn't exactly set out here with honorable intentions... Camilla kinda hinted she'd do that thing... Anyway, you don't need to know that.

Anyway, long story short, I fight my way to the end of this thing, figure out a stupid door puzzle (The code was written on the damn key... How stupid is that?) and then fight some big Undead thingy. Steal all the stuff I can find, and I'm about to head out when, Well. I dunno how to explain this. I guess I'll just say it.

I heard music.

I know, crazy. There's no one down here. No bands, no orchestra, not even a bard. But I hear music, and when I move towards it, I find a wall, and a glowing set of white writing on it... And somehow I understand it. It's not in any language I know, but I know it...

I figure I better leg it back to town. Luckily I find a back door to this place (Woulda been handy at the START of this quest.) Lucan is so happy to get his claw back, and Camilla basically jumps me as I walk in the door... It was a good reunion, but man... That writing is bugging me... I think it's time to move on... I need to find someone who can explain this stuff to me.... I need to know what's happening.

Tomorrow, I set out for Whiterun. The Jarl should know about these stupid Dragons, and I suspect someone there may be able to help me with this.

Riverwood, and Pushy people.

So, Riverwood. It's a pretty enough town. Arrived here with Ralof and met his sister (Pretty, But married to a large Nord. I learned my lesson!) The large Nord (Hod, as it turns out.) is a great guy! The instant we got here, he took us to his house, and we all got roaring drunk!
And by Roaring drunk, I mean literal roaring. The guards were called, stern talking too's were issued, honor was fought for, Nudity was involved.

Suffice to say I have new scars, Mental and physical.

But the guards were understanding. They just sent us back to Hod's house to sleep it off, and so that's what we did. Woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a thirst for adventure.

Adventure in Skyrim is actually really hard to avoid. I walk out my door (Well, Hod's door.) and BANG! someone needs something.
People here seem incapable of doing anything for themselves.

Faendal, A fine Dark Elf bumps into me in the streets, and starts accusing me of being friends with some guy called Sven. Honestly, It's possible we were naked together the other night, so I can't really refute the accusations, but I don't recall the guy, so you know. I'm a little offended. After a bit of a chat Faendal reveals that he is in love with a smart young lady who is falling for the smooth talking Svens charms.
"Surely not!" I exclaimed passionately, "What foul miscreant could ever think of out charming you my fine fellow!"
Faendal smiled, and decided to trust me with a mission to solve his issue. Deliver a letter to the chick allegedly from Sven.
Off I set.
I find Sven, Smarmy bard that he is. I decide I prefer Faendal. Off I head to find the chick.

She's in the Riverwood trader, Sister to the owner, and currently in uproar over some stolen trinket. I store that away for later adventuring and start chatting to her.

She's a fine looking lady, Single, Rich enough... I hand her the letter, and she instantly decides Sven can go Hump a Frost Troll. Part of me is thinking "Faendal will be happy." The most of me is thinking "I can totally see down her shirt, and it's making this cat purr!"

Adventure, I thought. Can wait. So now here I am, Sat at a desk in the Riverwood Trader, the young lady Camilla Valerius sat happily across from me, stroking my fur... Mmm. Excuse me, I'll write more later... I have... Things... To do.

Finishing Yesterdays entry

Okay, Everything is good. Didn't finish writing that entry yesterday huh Diary? I'd apologize to you, but your a piece of paper. Who cares what you think?
Got distracted, I'm in Riverwood right now, and after a series of odd adventures... Well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Suffice to say I'm not paying rent at the Inn, due to the kindness of the store owners sister.

So, Helgen. We arrive via Cart, I'm amazed by it's beauty, we're promptly swept out of the cart, and set to have our heads removed at the pleasure of our beloved Emperor. Yeah. I may not be fond of my homeland anymore, but honestly, this Empire is just as bad. I haven't even committed a crime yet, though I suppose it was only a matter of time.
Our first fellow execution victim pulls up to the block, Gets his head removed, and then it's my turn.

I would call what happens next lucky, if it weren't for the fact that it was you know, so unlucky as to be almost shameful to thank for why I am able to write this.

Dragon attack.

Helgen is gone, I escaped along with my buddy Ralof (The guy from the cart, And apparent Stormcloak, Dunno what that is really other than they hate the empire, so honestly I'm debating signing up.) We head for the wonderfully tiny village of Riverwood, with it's very very inviting hosts... And here I am.

Oh I wandered back to Helgen, it doesn't look as good as it once did, this I can tell you.

Helgen

I have to say, this may have been the perfect time to start a diary.
I wandered into Skyrim early Yesterday. It was a quiet, peaceful morning... Raining of course. I swear, no matter WHERE I go in the world, it's raining. I wandered through Cyrodil Damp, I wander through Black Marsh, Damp. No matter where I go, it's always raining. I'm told sun exists, but I've yet to see it. Maybe next adventure I can head for Hammerfell. I'm told it's mostly desert. Then again, I came to Skyrim hoping snow would beat out rain. No luck so far.
I'm getting distracted here. Back a few steps.
I wander into Skyrim, happy to explore a new place, make new friends, Drink new drinks, Maybe get in a few fights, make myself overly friendly. You know. The usual.
Within a few minutes of wandering, I am grabbed, a sack over my head, and then knocked unconscious. My last thoughts? Mostly they were "WHAT IN THE NAME OF SHEOGORATH!" But also, "I hope they don't take my Skooma." Have you ever been grabbed and knocked out? It's kind of hard to think reasonably while it occurs.
I awoke tied, arms behind my back in a cart, loaded with what I assume were hardened criminals. Turns out Skyrim is in some form of rebellion... I suppose I should have paid attention and found this stuff out before I came, but sometimes the fun of arriving is worth more than you know, research. Anyway, I've been mistaken for some form of criminal, and now I'm being transported with the leader of the rebellion to whatever fate rebel leaders face.
I'm guessing it is not a stern talking too.
They dragged us to Some little town called Helgen. Just over the border there. Nice place. Mountains in the background, looks pretty. You know, Picturesque. If I was an artist I'd have drawn it, but I'm just a Renrij, So I just had to admire it.
They tell a story, in my land, of a young Altmer, who was taken with adventure. He had quested the world over, doing odd jobs, dealing with various dungeons and delights, and found himself at last in the province of Elsweyr. Something he did upset the locals, and he was chased off of a cliff by the Khajiit guards. Falling, he managed to catch himself on a branch, and in relief looked down to see if he could perhaps climb out of this situation, only to see that below him there was a gathering of Orc Bandits, hoping he would fall so they could loot his dead body. Looking up he could see the gathered Khajiit soldiers, glaring down at him, grins on their faces as they realized his situation.

Looking at the cliff wall, he realized he was holding a bush, that was growing Blackberries. Picking one, he tasted it. And found it was the most delicious thing he ever had eaten.

He still died though.

I was hoping my admiration of the beauty of this place was not going to end in a similar fashion.

Hold on, I think I heard something. I'll have to continue this in a bit.  

Openings

Dear diary.
 Hahahaha. Yeah.
So, I've taken to writing myself a diary. I've been wandering throughout the happy land of Tamriel for a good few years now, Kicked out of some of the finest drinking establishments in the land! Held in the seediest of jails, At our great exulted Emperors most laudable of prisons. I've done a great many things. Mostly I've done a lot of drinking, and eating, and you know, Stealing.

I'm a cat, it's what we do.

But it occurs to me that a lot of my adventures out there in the world are lost to me now. I vaguely remember that young breton lady in Bravil, I distinctly remember her Husband. I still have the scars. I kinda remember something about the Bosmer wanting me dead for war crimes, but that was so long ago, and honestly... I left my ties to Elsweyr when it sold itself to the High Elves. All told, life is becoming a bit of a blur of faded memories and sharp scar tissue.

 And thus, here we are. Writing it all down. And hoping to use it to remind me of my past. So I don't make stupid mistakes in the future. Like, Being found naked in a ladies bed by her Nord husband.

Those scars really took a long time to heal...