Journal

---Last Seed, 17th, 4E 201---
My ill-omened journey to Skyrim is finally complete. To this day I curse the rival families within my great house Telvanni whom chased my line out of glorious Resdayne and into hiding in the Cyrodiil over their rightful fear of our growing power.

Unfortunately I was stopped at the border by an Imperial Legion patrol and was sentenced to death for possible affiliations with a local band of rebels. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to the politics of this land before coming here to expand my arcane knowledge. Not that I had much of a choice mind. I dare yet not step foot back into Resdayn, not until I am prepared to deal with those who hunt me and my line and it has become near impossible to join either of the two groups that operate in what is left of Cyrodiil. I Curse them both for refusing my admittance! I see no other choice but to make my way to the College of Winterhold. Even though it is situated in this land of barbarians it has always held a modicum of respect within the great house Telvanni which is more than many such institutions can say.

I was aided greatly in my escape by an Imperial soldier, Hadvar. After we fled the chaos that erupted in the town I now know as Helgen the soldier led me to his home village of Riverwood, barely a day’s travel. Once there we took shelter with the local blacksmith, apparently kin to Hadvar. Here I have managed to catch up with local politics and made an agreement with the blacksmith. In exchange for much needed supplies I am to take word to the local ruler, a Jarl Bulgruff, of the events that have transpired. In need of supplies and loathe of being in yet more debt I have accepted this offer.

Addendum: My execution was stopped due to a dragon attack of all things. May require further investigation.





---Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201---
After my stay with the blacksmith I decided to spend the rest of the night at the local 'Mead Hall'. Here I learnt more about local events and perhaps a good place to start honing my magical abilities. I have been told that each Jarl generally has a court wizard in his employ and that they have been known to share their knowledge of the arcane arts. As I am already oath bound to see the local Jarl I see no reason not to make further inquiries on the matter. Still though, my best chances for proper tutelage lie with the College.

Note: Even the humble mead of this lowly Tavern far exceeds anything I had tasted in my many years of refuge within Cyrodiil.





---Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201---
Before making my way to Whiterun I decided to visit the local trader to barter for further supplies. Once I entered I overheard a conversation between the owner of the store and his sister, Lucas and Camilla Valeria respectively. Apparently a single item of great worth was stolen from his store. I didn't think much of it until noticing a small selection of spell tomes tucked away in his store. While the spells contained within these tomes were only the most basic of their respective schools documented knowledge such is this has become incredible scarce, and expensive, since most institutions that hold an interest in the arcane have become more withdrawn from the general populace. Understanding that I would not have enough to barter for them Lucas and I have plotted out an arrangement. In return for the spell tomes I would retrieve his stolen property, a golden dragon’s claw. The Imperial wouldn't tell me how he knew where the claw was but he was able to point me towards an ancient Nordic crypt not far from town. Not knowing what I would find in such a place I decided to ere on the side of caution and enlist help. Remembering local gossip about a love triangle from the tavern last night I decided to track down one of the men vying for the favor of Lucan's sister, a Bosmeri hunter named Faendal. It didn't take much to convince the Bosmer that by helping me retrieve her brothers dragon claw he would surely endear Camilla to him.

We are now at the entrance to the crypt, named Bleak Falls Barrow. We have already encountered more bandits than either of us had thought would be involved. According to a conversation between two that Faendel and I overheard upon entering the crypt the claw is indeed here. We now press on further in.

We have found the claw and the thief who stole it. Before he died at the hands of the Nordic undead protecting this crypt he mentioned that the claw was the key to unlocking an ancient power hidden here. I have convinced Faendal to follow me further.





---Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201---
The thief was right about the claw. It opened an ancient nordic gate, the mechanism itself is something I would have assumed to be far beyond the ability of those ancient barbarians and in truth, their modern descendants. Faendal and I followed the path deep down into the earth until we entered a vast natural cavern. Inside this cavern was a giant wall etched with what I believe to be words in an ancient language, possibly ancient Nedic or indeed Atmoran. The undead guardian of this wall carried with him a tablet that was etched with more of the same symbols and what I believe to be a map of Skyrim. If it is indeed a map of Skyrim then it is also marking locations, possibly pointing the way to more of these walls.

In my excited, if tired, state of mind I have almost forgotten to record what happened when I approached the wall. My vision darkened, all I could see was a single word on the wall that became brighter and brighter. I cannot yet explain it but I believe that a power transferred from the wall into myself. Along with this energy I now feel coursing through me I also received perfect understanding of that ancient word, "Fus".





---Last Seed, 20th, 4E 201---
I have arrived at Whiterun at an hour too late for a stranger to be seen by the Jarl so I have taken up accommodation at the local Inn. If these Nords know one thing it is how to make the most of their creature comforts in this inhospitable land. I am currently situated on a balcony looking down at the townsfolk and other travelers sipping a fine mead and enjoying my first cooked meal in days. I feel the warmth of the roaring hearths, I hear the sound of revelry and merriment from the bard and his audience and I smell the sweet honey scent of Nordic mead. It almost reminds me of the nights of my youth spent at the corner club on Solstheim.

Before I retire for the evening I should take note that I have learnt from the owner of this Inn, The Bannered Mare, that after the Red Year refugees from Resdayn erected a shrine to Azura on one of the mountain ranges not far from the College of Winterhold. While I know that most of House Telvanni pay lip service at most to the Temple I believe that the Temple is an integral part of Dunmeri culture and that the only way we can regain our waning glory is to hold fast to what has defined our people since the prophet Veloth took his first steps down the path of what has made us the people that we are.





---Last Seed, 21st, 4E 201---
I have met with the Jarl of Whiterun and informed him of the dragon attack at Helgen, which he has already been made aware, and the call for aid from the village of Riverwood. After our audience he bade me follow him and being in his place of power and authority I did not feel it prudent to decline. He then introduced me to his court wizard and informed me that the mage was already hard at work researching the dragons and I must say that his findings did intrigue me. The mage, one Farengar Secret-Fire, requested that I retrieve for him a stone. Little did he know that I was already in possession of the item that he sought. I decided not to reveal this however as he confirmed what I believed it to be, a marked map of Skyrim. The Nord was also kind enough to tell me what he believed it to be a map of, dragon burial sites. According to the slate there is one not far from here so I plan to mount my own investigation. If there happens to be another one of those walls I found at the heart of the Bleak-Falls Burrow and subsequent walls at the other burial sites I do not wish to share this information.

I have found the site marked on the slate and to the best of my knowledge it is only a mound. While I don't doubt that a dragon has been buried here I do doubt its worth to me. In light of this I plan on handing the stone over to Balgruufs court wizard in exchange for a promised reward and his favour.





---Last Seed, 22nd, 4E 201---
I quite possibly choose the worst time to hand over that 'Dragonstone'. No sooner then it leaving my hands did Irileth, the Jarls bodyguard, storm in informing that both Secret-Fire and I were summoned by the Jarl in response to a dragon sighting not far from Whiterun. Being the only person on hand with even a modicum of experience with a dragon I was pressed in to joining a party of the Jarls soldiers, headed by Irileth, to go and investigate the sighting. If only a sighting was all it would be. Soon after we reached our destination, a watch tower off the main road, leading to Falkreath I believe, did the dragon attack. While I would like to place the blame of me being in such a situation so detrimental to my health, my life and my plans for the future solely on Balgruff I cannot deny that the possibility of studying a dragon up close tugged on my natural curiosity. Not to mention the rewards I would receive from the Jarl. We were able to slay the dragon of course and when it died a most interesting thing happened. Much like when I approached that wall in Bleak Falls Barrow a wind of energy flowed into me from the corpse of the dragon. The Nords that were there chalked it up to a local legend but Irileth, being a sensible Dunmer voiced the same doubts I had about this. No, I am much more inclined to believe that this event most likely has something to do with that wall back in the Barrow. Unfortunately I do not have the tools or knowledge to decipher the rest of the words etched in to that monolith. Perhaps the court wizards of the other holds may hold the key? If not them then surely the College of Winterhold.

Either way I have decided that before I report back to the Jarl for my reward I would first explore that cave I mentioned earlier, Redorans Retreat. Even if I learn nothing of that rival Great House there I should still be able to dispatch the bandits and claim the bounty, earning further rewards from the Jarl. After all I am not far from the cave now and the few bandits there should prove little challenge, especially after a dragon.





---Last Seed, 23rd, 4E 201---
I have finally made it back to Whiterun and the Bannered Mare. I'll be spending the rest of the night here in the city before moving on as it is far too late in the eve to see the Jarl now. I do believe that I'll miss this tavern.

While I didn't find anything of interest at Redorans Retreat I was able to dispatch the bandits. After slaying the dragon the rest of my day promised to be uneventful in comparison. These were my thoughts as I stumbled upon a giant’s camp, believing myself better off taking a shortcut back to Whiterun rather than taking the road. Needless to say, I ran. Luckily for me however the direction I decided to run in lead me towards an ancient Nordic ruin. This however proved to be extremely unlucky for the bandits that had taken up here as the giants made short work of them and in turn the bandits re-animated bodies, under my command, made short work of the giants and their mammoth that had chosen to pursue me. By this time however it had grown dark and I thought it best not to try and make my way back to the city until dawn. I decided to camp at the top of the ruin, believing it to be the safest place to rest. It was here however that I discovered a forge and notes on it the bandits had apparently taken, perhaps the mage that was among them? Apparently the weapons made from the forge become enchanted at night. Truly a wondrous contraption and I look forward to returning at some point to study the enchantments that must have been placed on the forge itself. While I could surely sell this information for a small fortune I believe that I would gain more in the long term by keeping the forge and its powers secret. After all, everyone else that knew of the forge died at the hands of the giants.

On another note, as I entered the Bannered Mare I was approached by a courier who had been waiting for me. According to the note I was given I have been summoned by the Jarl of Falkreath. Perhaps word of my feat in slaying the dragon at the watchtower has already spread? Regardless of why I have been summoned the note has promised the Jarls favour if I heed the call. The promise of rewards and the fact I will be able to learn more from the court wizard of Falkreath is enough for that city to become my next destination.

I set out tomorrow after my meeting with the Jarl.

Adendum: It turns out that the serving girl at The Bannered Mare is in fact a Red Guard Noble fleeing from the Thalmor and political rivals from her home Province. I feel her plight as I find myself in similar circumstances.





---Last Seed, 23rd, 4E 201---
I've arrived at Riverwood and have decided to stop here for the night before pushing on to Falkreath in the morning. I am not alone in my journey however. Upon hearing of how I had slain the dragon and absorbed power for it's corpse the Jarl made me a Thane of his hold. I minor noble title from what I understand. Among the typical perks associated with such a standing in society I have also been granted a Huscarl as is Nordic tradition. The Huscarl is a young Nordic woman named Lydia and while she doesn't provide for the most engaging company her strong sword arm and sense of loyalty have already proven quite useful.





---Last Seed, 25th, 4E 201---
Setting out from Riverwood I decided we would take a scenic route to Falkreath through the ruins of Helgen. Lydia, my Huscarl spent most of the evening in the tavern asking me of what happened there and of my subsequent battle with a dragon at the watchtower near Whiterun. I say 'a dragon' and not 'the dragon' for I believe the two to be different creatures but I digress. When we arrived at Helgen Lydia saw for herself the fearsome power of the dragons and I could tell by the gaze she had fixed me with that she was only now just fully understanding the gravity of feat is slaying one of these creatures. It was a look of reverence. My plan had succeeded.

As we were making good time we decided to push on for Falkreath. Perhaps the decision was hubris. Before nightfall however we came across an old fort that appeared to be occupied by bandits. The fort I am currently writing the journal entry in. Since leaving Helgen neither of us could shake the feeling that we were being watched and followed. Neither of us wished to spend the night in the wilderness with this feeling hanging over us so we decided that that it would be much preferable to clear the fort of the bandits as we were both comfortable facing men clad in hide and armed with steel. Facing the creatures of Skyrims nights while they were in their element was another story completely. Again I was glad to have Lydia's sword arm at my side. Nearly as glad as she was with my ability to turn the bandits against each other or cause them to flee the keep. Simple tricks of Illusion, especially when played against those that are already a single meal-less night from knifing each other in the back. At one point two of the bandits had managed to back her into a corner. I remember the smile that crept across her face when one of the men buried their axe into the back of their comrade’s head. I also remember the smile quickly vanishing when that bandit then rose up and bit his killers’ throat out. She confronted me about this once we had cleared the main keep. While she is honor-bound to serve me she was quite clearly concerned and perhaps I would even go as far to say angry over my use of this particular magical art. I merely laughed and told her that she had nothing to worry about. For as long as she stood by me, her 'Thane', I would never use these powers on her. She begrudgingly accepted this before retiring for the night as I am about to.

Tomorrow we continue for Falkreath.





---Last Seed, 26th, 4E 201---
We have settled in for the night in an abandoned shack. According to a note found within there is a dragon roosting on a mountaintop not far from here. This would explain the two charred bodies we found by the creek near here.

We are making good progress to Falkreath but we have been hindered by my natural curiosity. Something that, if the older members of House Telvanni are any indication, will subside with age. Perhaps though it is something I should hold on to like master Fir. While the majority of the council seems content to hold on to what they have, too fearful to take chances, to progress, Davith Fir has only ever grown in power and I believe this is mostly due to has insatiable curiosity and thirst to ever acquire more knowledge, more power. Much like his curiosity has rewarded him mine has rewarded me. In an old fort nestled in a crevice in the mountains I have found two items of great worth. The first is a finely crafted robe ensorcelled with an extremely powerful enchantment. Judging by the energy it is giving off and the runework threaded into it I could make an educated guess that it was created to help the wearer in binding pacts with Deadric servants. I however have been able to pervert this energy to aid me with my control of the dead. I can already feel the power of these robes coursing through me. The second item was a battle-axe with a head of pure glass mined from the most holy island of Vvardenfell. I have decided to give this magnificent weapon to my Huscarl as such physical instruments of destruction are below me and she has already proved her ability for violence when she beheaded the vampire guarding these items.

Tonight we rest and if our good fortune holds and my curiosity remain sated I believe that by this time next eve we should be resting comfortably at an Inn in Falkreath.





---Last Seed, 26th, 4E 201---
Caught in a storm and loathe to travel in these conditions we have taken up shelter in a cabin we have come across.

Interesting, this cabin. It appears to have been built on top of ancient Nordic ruins. It's uncertain as to whether whoever built this place knew about the ruins below but a passageway hidden behind a bookshelf in the cabins basement would seem to indicate that they did.

Either way now that the place has been cleared of bandits, apparently lead by one Rigen Strong-arm, it is proving and excellent shelter from the storm.





---Last Seed, 28th, 4E 201---
While the hour may be late we have finally made it to Falkreath. While I have only made it through the front gate and straight to the Inn I can already tell that this is a somber place with a heavy air about it.

In the morning I'll be seeing the Jarl and the court wizard here to answer the missive I received and to see what more I can learn of the arcane arts.





---Last Seed, 29th, 4E 201---
The Jarl of Falkreath is a S'wit and there's no court wizard to be found. If it wasn't for the substantial sum of gold I've been offered in return for the completion of a few trivial tasks I would be cursing myself for wasting my time with this hold. I do believe that when I return and claim my reward I will hire a carriage to take me to Riften as it is the closest city of any considerable size.





---Last Seed, 30th, 4E 201---
I've returned to Falkreath to collect my reward for completing the Jarls task. I plan to enjoy one more comfortable night at the Inn before taking my carriage to Riften, the supposed city of thieves. I would wager that anyone that has called it that has never set foot in a Hlaalu town.





---Last Seed, 31st, 4E 201---
I have only just arrived in Riften and already a city guard has tried shaking me down for coin. Perhaps this place will be more like a Hlaalu town then I gave it credit for.

I met a fellow Dunmer at the marketplace here in Riften, we got to talking as my fellow mer are few and far between, and he told me a most interesting tale. Apparently he was found washed ashore by Argonians when he was just a babe. He did however manage to find out that he and his mother had set sail for Skyrim on a ship named "Pride of Tel Vos". My interest was immediately piqued. I agreed with him that it was most definitely a Telvanni vessel. I weep at the thought of a son of Telvanni being denied our great house and in turn being raised by lizards. He believes that the wreckage of the ship has been sighted near the College of Winterhold. When I finally make my way to the College I will be sure to look for the ship.

I'll be spending another night in Riften. It's a rather large settlement and there wasn't enough hours in the day to complete all that I wanted to get done while I was here. I've decided that tomorrow we will make a start for Whiterun.





---Heartfire, 4th, 4E 201---
There has been a change in my travel plans. Spending much longer in Riften than I had ever intended I picked up a few odd jobs that set me along the path leading back to Falkreath.  Then from there I'll be setting out to Whiterun. Hopefully there will be no further changes. I feel much more comfortable having a plan laid out ahead of me.

I have to give credit to the Jarl of Riften. While her city might be dangerous and corrupt she has her guards stationed along every path, farm and village in her hold.





---Heartfire, 4th, 4E 201---
It had starting getting dark but luckily, I thought, there appeared to be a watchtower not far. Once I had approached the tower I could hear the sound of a heated debate coming from within. Not knowing if my reception would be friendly I prepared myself before opening the door only to be greeted by the sight of a robed figure incinerating another with arcane electricity. It appears that this tower belongs to a coven of witches and that the survivor of the magical duel was trying to leave the coven. In need of shelter for the night and drawn by my own curiosity of what arcane knowledge I may find within I have agreed to help the turn-coat clear the tower of her former coven members.

My new companion, Illia, has told me that the coven that lived here revered the Hagraven creatures and that the goal of each of its members is to one day become a Hagraven themselves. Intrigued by what Illia could teach me of this relatively unstudied form of magicka and the unique perspective of the arcane, and indeed the world, that she must have from growing up in such an environment I have asked her if she would like to continue traveling with me now that her former coven has been destroyed.

After agreeing to accompany me and my Huscarl and silencing the latter’s concerns of traveling with a witch, we have agreed to settle in for the night. Come daybreak we will leave this Darklight Tower, the name of which has been given to me by Illia, and head for a Dwemer ruin located not far from here. According to Illia her mother, the head witch of the coven that resided here, sent some of her disciples to investigate the ruins. They never returned.





---Heartfire, 5th, 4E 201---
The ruins were just a short ways south-east of Darklight Tower like Illia had said it was and upon arriving it became clear as to why the witches did not return to their coven. Two frozen bodies that Illia confirmed were members of the Darklight coven were found huddled around a Dwemer fire. Presumably preyed upon by a beautiful, if deadly creature that we found in the area. My companions tell me that the creature is known as a Wisp-Mother. I have no idea if they are in any way related to the bog wisps found in Cyrodiil but to satisfy my own curiosity I will have to look in to it.

After securing the surface area of the ruins we located a Dwemer lift that should take us into the structures interior below the ground. We prepare to embark.

The lift has taken us into an enormous cavern and on the platform in the center is a device that appears to be creating some kind of magickal field around a pedestal. While I cannot discern what, if anything, lies on the pedestal or how to deactivate the Dwemer device I am glad that I was able to see this place and I will endeavor to find out more about it in my travels. It truly is a shame that House Dwemer turned on the Dunmeri all those years ago. The wonders we could have shown each other.

Having explored what appears to be the extent of these ruins we are now preparing to head out to our original destination, Falkreath. According to my map there is a road not far from here that will take us around the Throat of the World and directly there. While I am tempted to investigate the ancient Nordic legend of the Dragonborn I am still unconvinced of its legitimacy and I will not allow it to interfere with my studies. Much to the dismay and chagrin of my Huscarl. I never thought her childish yammering would grow on me but the way she believes in such nonsense with so little proof is endearing in it's own way. Her loyalty is and will continue to be useful.

There appears to be some kind of fortified encampment just a little ways further up the road. Illia has informed me that it's an Orsemerish Stronghold, one of several that apparently dots Skyrim, my Huscarl added. I'm hoping that I will be able to offload some of the more useless curiosities I've acquired from Darklight Tower and its neighboring Dwemer ruin.

According to the guards at the gate the hold has been under attack from a local tribe of giants. The shaman believes that this is due to them somehow angering their lord Malacath. 'Let no house built on the foundation of the four corners stand tall'. I'm sure that lord Boethia would be quite pleased with this turn of events and I dare not interfere.





---Heartfire, 6th, 4E 201---
My party and I have come across a campsite situated along the base of the Jeryll Mountain range while on our way still to Falkreath. A Journal that we found at the site leads me to believe that a nearby entrance in the mountain side leads to an ancient Nordic temple. According to Medresi Dran, apparent owner of the journal, the temple was known as Angarvunde. If Medresi or any member of our expedition has not returned by the time my companions and I take advantage of their campsite for some much needed rest we have agreed to enter. While I can understand Illia's curiosity and desire to enter the ruins as it is much like my own I did find it odd that my Huscarl did not caution against it as she usually does in such circumstances. Perhaps she hopes to find glory in discovering a place of such significance to her people?

I have located Medresi inside and as her name would suggest she is a fellow Dunmer. Again and again my brothers and sisters can be accredited with the rediscovery of ancient Nordic treasures and power that the barbarians of this land are too simple to keep track of. Could you imagine any Merish temples being lost and forgotten? There shame brings a smile to my lips. In any case, I've agreed to help Meresi in exchange for a share in the spoils of this endeavor.

Medresi has been killed by a ancient Nordic trap. My companions and I will now press on ahead.

After studying the wall located at the heart of this temple I believe I now have a better understanding of the strange language etched on its surface. While I'm still not convinced that it is proof of this 'Dragonborn' business I do have to wonder what it is that grants me such sudden and natural insight as far as these walls are concerned. At first I believed it was a byproduct of my magical aptitude that helped me see the subtle power woven into the words themselves. After consulting with Illia however I doubt that is the case. While she has proven to be a capable mage she has no more insight into the words than my Huscarl does. Perhaps it has something to do with that golden Dragon Claw statuette? I may need to pay that merchant another visit. In any case we have agreed that we have little else to gain by staying here. After we make some sketching’s of the 'Word Wall' , as my Huscarl has aptly named it, we will make our way back to Medressis camp in order to rest before continuing with our journey.





---Heartfire, 7th, 4E 201---
According to my map we are now approaching the mountain pass that will lead us through the Throat of the World and into Falkreath hold. As we've approached the pass a tower has come into view and judging by its location it appears to be Automnwatch Tower and according to the bounty the barkeep in Riften gave me it is also the lair of a dragon. We have agreed that it would be better to face the beast our in the open rather than risk it cornering us on the or even worse yet spending the weeks it would take to circumvent the mountain range. After a brief rest we will proceed with our assault on the dragons roost.