juni0rj0hn
Article Writer
Dragonborn's Journals,
Book 1, The Untold Perspective
Chapter 1: The Soldiers in Red
They call me Dovakhiin, fabled Nordic hero, last of the Dragonborn. I saved all of Skyrim and even Tamriel if you think hard, but I beg you to smash me with a tankard if you hear me saying I started out that way. I'v began writing this journal, in my old age, so that all who read and find it may delve deep into the mind of a hero and learn much of my point of view and my adventures. If you be nord, this journal may serve well as a history lesson that reminds you of where your race came, if you have Orcish blood in you, I have quite a story to tell of hardened tribes mostly consisting of your kind, if you are a Dunmer, let it be known that I belong to no prejudiced ideas concerning Dark Elves, If you be Bretton, well I honestly haven't seen many of you around in my lifetime, if you're Imperial, or come from Cyrodil, I have a whole lot to tell you about my first day back in Skyrim, if you are a Bosmer, then I really don't have much information on Wood Elves, if you are Argonian, then I've met one or two very treacherous reptillian cons, if you are Kajhiit, something about you interests me far more than any other race, I've yet to meet such a determined, friendly, intelligent race, and finally ohh ho ho, the so superiorly and intellectually advanced stuck up Altmer, not all of your race so eagerly stomp on others with a golden Elven boot, but I think the world would do much better without them.
Now that we've got that clear, I will tell tale of my first encounter with Alduin, the world eater, and loathed by all Nords and any who lived in Skyrim at that time. Alright, then, I woke up after a complimentary knockout from an Imperial scout next to Ralof- a Stormcloak friend of mine, a very anxious horse theif, a bland and impatient man, and Ulfric Stormcloak(leader of the rebbelion against the empire, you'd have to be an earless rock under a Falmer cave to have not heard about it) I was getting used to the fact of my hands being bound for simply trying to cross the border as everyone on the cart started a conversation . The horse theif went nearly insane as we got closer and closer to Helgen, the spot where the Imperials would attempt to chop off my thinking-cabbage. My reaction to the sitution was silence, from the time I woke up that day to the time I got out hours later, I didn't say a word.
We approached Helgen's main gates in a matter of mintues. It was a fairly populated town that looked more like a fort to me. Some sat on their wooden porches and did anything but hesitate to show their support for the empire, while others clearly yelled in love for the Stormcloaks and opposition of Imperial control. "Why are we stopping?" the horse theif questioned in disbelief. "What do you think, end of the line." Ralof answered in a dooming, depressed tone. The theif in total denial, may've finally blown his top. "You'll never catch me! I won't die like the rest of them!" Is what I think he said."Archers!" the obnoxious Imperial female officer commanded, archers ready on the main road, shooting him down in his ragged robes. I don't remember much but this. the offeicer next to her list keeper called next after ordering the death of the brave, impatient man riding with us on the cart, and I could barely breath. In those next few moments I felt as if there were no air left to breathe in the world. I didn't have anything to ...right? I wasn't on their silly list...right? I needed a blessing from the divines, from a Daedra, anything please!
I stepped off of the cart with no fear just as the impatient man, who said something which I've thought about all throught the civil war-"my ancestors are smiling down on me, Imperials...can you say the same?" were his last words before the excecutioner took his battleaxe and ended his life without mercy...hughh, yeah, they were here to help."Empire loves their damn lists." Ulfric said. "Who...are you" the list keeper asked a question to which I had no answers. All I could build on was that I was a Nord who was either born in Cyrodil or was coming back from a vacation with blonde hair, a few known spells, and no weapons. I couldn't have been that important. After all that...who really was I. had yet to find out, but I realised it was a rhetorical question as the man checked his list and noticed I wasn't part of it. He mentioned something about me crossing the border and some Wabbajack was said about me being a Nord. "Forget the list!" the officer barked, and ordered I went to the block under the sweaty man with a bloody battleaxe. Was I to know that the Imperials were so inhospitable to unexpected party members. However they were not so confident of killing their next guest as he flew overhead.
I walked and knelt on the block with my hands tied together as a sudden, spontanious tear flew down to the ground. As I waited for my new short life to come to an end, the excecutioner raised his battle axe preparing for a clean cut, and the officer hastened my death when she heard a violent roar in the distant skys- she knew something was coming...she wanted bloodshed. Sure, killing innocent Nords that aren't on our silly list is an excellent way to show the people of Skyrim we want to help.
Their attempt failed when a scaly, black colored, firebreathing dragon raged and spurted fire in every direction he could. My blessing had came, although I had litte knowledge that it would later turn into a curse. "What in OBLIVION is THAT?"the list keeper panicked. Before I knew it, my destiny unfolded before my eyes and I was jumping off of rooftops, running into fire and out of destroyed buildings, narrowly escaping the most powerful dragon in Tamrie, and following my new friend, Ralof. Somewhere in that time, I believe Ulfric either met us in Helgen keep or escaped...what a way to wake up.
In Helgen keep, we saw Ralof's brother and in order to survive, I took his armor and weapons. We hid from the Imperials as they walked in the first room we entered, but it didn't last for long, we were forced to attack. I took what I thought might be useful to sell or use from their dead bodies and continued down the narrow section made of stone, passing many cages where nothing but bone remained from the deceased who carried gold, a few books, a black one with an Imperial symbol on it about me, ingredients, food, potions, and blue mages robes on the body of one of the cages I unlocked. Many fights had gone on under the water-filled depths of the keep, including a bear fight, but Ralof and me emerged victorious coming out of the side of the Throat Of The World, near Riverwood where Ralof directed me to his sister, Gerdur. After that day I didn't have the best thoughts about the Empire, which is completely understandable if you ask me.
I welcomed the snowy mountain side with open arms after being gauged in flames several times by the World Eater. I came across an agressive hunter who controlled a pack of wolves, many random packs of wolves, oh and more wolves. I'd been takin full advantage of my Arcane skills simce Helgen, and at one point I rised rapidly in the ranks until eventually I came to be the arch-mage at the college of Winterhold, an experience i will fully explain in detail when i get around to it. Ahhh, the calm, cozy town of Riften- peaceful but not a very rememberable place. Sharp wooden fences mark it's border while none guarded it at the time of my unexpected arrival. I met the kind, but slightly troubled people including the blacksmith, several kids, a dog, th shopkeeper and his sister who I sold all my valuables to, an old lady and her son, and Gerdur. At first she didn't believe that we both from hours away, saw the same exact fluffy rabbit with black, soft wings who shot out colorful rainbows. After a long conversation, she pointed me in the direction of Whiterun, home of the careless yarl and the ignorant Dark Elf housecarl, and the lost-in-important-research- court mage.
Book 1, The Untold Perspective
Chapter 1: The Soldiers in Red
They call me Dovakhiin, fabled Nordic hero, last of the Dragonborn. I saved all of Skyrim and even Tamriel if you think hard, but I beg you to smash me with a tankard if you hear me saying I started out that way. I'v began writing this journal, in my old age, so that all who read and find it may delve deep into the mind of a hero and learn much of my point of view and my adventures. If you be nord, this journal may serve well as a history lesson that reminds you of where your race came, if you have Orcish blood in you, I have quite a story to tell of hardened tribes mostly consisting of your kind, if you are a Dunmer, let it be known that I belong to no prejudiced ideas concerning Dark Elves, If you be Bretton, well I honestly haven't seen many of you around in my lifetime, if you're Imperial, or come from Cyrodil, I have a whole lot to tell you about my first day back in Skyrim, if you are a Bosmer, then I really don't have much information on Wood Elves, if you are Argonian, then I've met one or two very treacherous reptillian cons, if you are Kajhiit, something about you interests me far more than any other race, I've yet to meet such a determined, friendly, intelligent race, and finally ohh ho ho, the so superiorly and intellectually advanced stuck up Altmer, not all of your race so eagerly stomp on others with a golden Elven boot, but I think the world would do much better without them.
Now that we've got that clear, I will tell tale of my first encounter with Alduin, the world eater, and loathed by all Nords and any who lived in Skyrim at that time. Alright, then, I woke up after a complimentary knockout from an Imperial scout next to Ralof- a Stormcloak friend of mine, a very anxious horse theif, a bland and impatient man, and Ulfric Stormcloak(leader of the rebbelion against the empire, you'd have to be an earless rock under a Falmer cave to have not heard about it) I was getting used to the fact of my hands being bound for simply trying to cross the border as everyone on the cart started a conversation . The horse theif went nearly insane as we got closer and closer to Helgen, the spot where the Imperials would attempt to chop off my thinking-cabbage. My reaction to the sitution was silence, from the time I woke up that day to the time I got out hours later, I didn't say a word.
We approached Helgen's main gates in a matter of mintues. It was a fairly populated town that looked more like a fort to me. Some sat on their wooden porches and did anything but hesitate to show their support for the empire, while others clearly yelled in love for the Stormcloaks and opposition of Imperial control. "Why are we stopping?" the horse theif questioned in disbelief. "What do you think, end of the line." Ralof answered in a dooming, depressed tone. The theif in total denial, may've finally blown his top. "You'll never catch me! I won't die like the rest of them!" Is what I think he said."Archers!" the obnoxious Imperial female officer commanded, archers ready on the main road, shooting him down in his ragged robes. I don't remember much but this. the offeicer next to her list keeper called next after ordering the death of the brave, impatient man riding with us on the cart, and I could barely breath. In those next few moments I felt as if there were no air left to breathe in the world. I didn't have anything to ...right? I wasn't on their silly list...right? I needed a blessing from the divines, from a Daedra, anything please!
I stepped off of the cart with no fear just as the impatient man, who said something which I've thought about all throught the civil war-"my ancestors are smiling down on me, Imperials...can you say the same?" were his last words before the excecutioner took his battleaxe and ended his life without mercy...hughh, yeah, they were here to help."Empire loves their damn lists." Ulfric said. "Who...are you" the list keeper asked a question to which I had no answers. All I could build on was that I was a Nord who was either born in Cyrodil or was coming back from a vacation with blonde hair, a few known spells, and no weapons. I couldn't have been that important. After all that...who really was I. had yet to find out, but I realised it was a rhetorical question as the man checked his list and noticed I wasn't part of it. He mentioned something about me crossing the border and some Wabbajack was said about me being a Nord. "Forget the list!" the officer barked, and ordered I went to the block under the sweaty man with a bloody battleaxe. Was I to know that the Imperials were so inhospitable to unexpected party members. However they were not so confident of killing their next guest as he flew overhead.
I walked and knelt on the block with my hands tied together as a sudden, spontanious tear flew down to the ground. As I waited for my new short life to come to an end, the excecutioner raised his battle axe preparing for a clean cut, and the officer hastened my death when she heard a violent roar in the distant skys- she knew something was coming...she wanted bloodshed. Sure, killing innocent Nords that aren't on our silly list is an excellent way to show the people of Skyrim we want to help.
Their attempt failed when a scaly, black colored, firebreathing dragon raged and spurted fire in every direction he could. My blessing had came, although I had litte knowledge that it would later turn into a curse. "What in OBLIVION is THAT?"the list keeper panicked. Before I knew it, my destiny unfolded before my eyes and I was jumping off of rooftops, running into fire and out of destroyed buildings, narrowly escaping the most powerful dragon in Tamrie, and following my new friend, Ralof. Somewhere in that time, I believe Ulfric either met us in Helgen keep or escaped...what a way to wake up.
In Helgen keep, we saw Ralof's brother and in order to survive, I took his armor and weapons. We hid from the Imperials as they walked in the first room we entered, but it didn't last for long, we were forced to attack. I took what I thought might be useful to sell or use from their dead bodies and continued down the narrow section made of stone, passing many cages where nothing but bone remained from the deceased who carried gold, a few books, a black one with an Imperial symbol on it about me, ingredients, food, potions, and blue mages robes on the body of one of the cages I unlocked. Many fights had gone on under the water-filled depths of the keep, including a bear fight, but Ralof and me emerged victorious coming out of the side of the Throat Of The World, near Riverwood where Ralof directed me to his sister, Gerdur. After that day I didn't have the best thoughts about the Empire, which is completely understandable if you ask me.
I welcomed the snowy mountain side with open arms after being gauged in flames several times by the World Eater. I came across an agressive hunter who controlled a pack of wolves, many random packs of wolves, oh and more wolves. I'd been takin full advantage of my Arcane skills simce Helgen, and at one point I rised rapidly in the ranks until eventually I came to be the arch-mage at the college of Winterhold, an experience i will fully explain in detail when i get around to it. Ahhh, the calm, cozy town of Riften- peaceful but not a very rememberable place. Sharp wooden fences mark it's border while none guarded it at the time of my unexpected arrival. I met the kind, but slightly troubled people including the blacksmith, several kids, a dog, th shopkeeper and his sister who I sold all my valuables to, an old lady and her son, and Gerdur. At first she didn't believe that we both from hours away, saw the same exact fluffy rabbit with black, soft wings who shot out colorful rainbows. After a long conversation, she pointed me in the direction of Whiterun, home of the careless yarl and the ignorant Dark Elf housecarl, and the lost-in-important-research- court mage.
