Herein Lies the Journals of J'ravi

A hero of Skyrim but not her native daughter. J'ravi is a Khajit merchant turned sword for hire when she is captured on the border of Hammerfell. After escaping Helgen she follows the road to Windhelm accompanied by her companion Janessa the dark elf archer of Whiterun.

Her story begins as she prepares to set forth for Falkreath hold to rescue Stormcloak soldiers at the behest of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak,

8th of Sun's Dawn 4th Era 201 – midnight? – Candlehearth Hall – Windhelm

"This Nord drink is going to kill me," I grumbled. The empty tankard chimed as I tapped my claws against it.

"Then perhaps you should stop consuming it, serrah."

Janessa and I sat in the loft of Candlehearth Hall eating our evening meal. I was deep in my cups although we already had marching orders for the next day. My body ached from the long march home and already we were being sent straight back to Whiterun to make sure the transition of Jarls went smoothly; then it would be on the Falkreath for an attempt to rescue a squad of Stormcloak soldiers, including several high ranking officers. I desperately wanted a hot bath and someone to comb the burrs from my fur. Janessa might not admit it but I could see the way she rubbed at her eyes in the dim light. We were both tired but still too full of adrenaline to sleep. My solution to such problems was always more drink.

I glared at Janessa although she didn't seem to notice. She was bent over a piece of slate with a stick of chalk in her hand. The side of her gloves was white from rubbing away her markings and there was a smudge on her forehead mixed in with her yellow war paint.

"Perhaps Susanna should stop tempting me with it," my drunken voice carried across the room and I saw the Nord woman grin unabashedly at me. My face felt hot beneath my fur and I quickly looked back to my companion. Janessa was smirking although she tried to hide it.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Me? Why no serrah why would you think such a thing?"

I sulked over my empty mug. I had no desire to stand and confront my drunken state. Susanna was entangled with a customer although she nodded at my raised hand. Bored with my mug, I watched Janessa make her markings. Her slate was a confusing mix of numbers and shorthand that only she could read. I knew she was figuring up our expenses for the journey. A noise of annoyance escaped her mouth and she leaned back in her chair to get a better look at me.

"The Jarl made no promise of payment?"

I let out an overly dramatic groan, "You were there Janessa. He told me I was welcome to the spoils of war. Rolaf says he rewards all his men when they exceed his expectations. He gave us a fine weapon didn't he?"

"Feh!" the dark elf leaned her chair back against the wall, teetering back and forth. "A pile of Imperial armor is all but worthless and their weapons are shite. And you refuse to sell that damned war-axe."

"Well I can't very well sell it here in Windhelm can I? Suppose Ulfric finds out and –"

"And what do you care if he's offended? Who in their right mind gives one of the best archers in his army a war-axe? He's a bloody idiot."

Instinctively I glanced over my shoulder at the group of Stormcloaks who seemed to have a permanent table in the other corner of the loft. Susanna was serving them drinks and acting very patient with their drunken antics. Several of them were urging the bard to sing some sort of dirty song and she looked incredibly embarrassed. Susanna looked equal parts angry and tired. One hand rested on her hip as she stood out of arms reach and said something to one of the grabbier soldiers. He didn't look pleased with her refusal.

"J'ravi," Janessa's voice made me turn around. "We need potions, arrows, new bowstrings, armor and weapon repair not to mention carriage fare between here and Whiterun. Even if we can sell the damned war-axe in Whiterun Adrianne won't give us full value for it."

"Jode and Jone," I snap, frustrated with her near constant nagging. "We're not outfitting a damn army. I will speak to Galmar about transport to Whiterun. The soldiers await our arrival before they can move and even so the snows are still thick in the mountains. We will have opportunity for coin hunting down bandits from their caves."

Janessa glowered at me causing her yellow war paint to flake off onto the table. "You asked me to outfit us. That takes coin and your precious Jarl isn't offering much for bandits outside of his own holdings."

I tried not to roll my eyes but luckily was saved from the never ending argument by Susanna's arrival. She set two tankards on the table, her form pressing against my back as she gathered up the empty ones. I tried to keep my face impassive although I knew I was flushed underneath my tawny fur. Janessa pushed her slate away and leaned in towards me.

"You are not helping, spending all our coin on mead."

Susanna laughed at my low growl, "Both your drinks are on the house tonight. Ice Veins has secured a worthy trade route from what I hear from those dunces in the corner."

I grin crookedly at them both. Susanna's hand rests on my shoulder and I try not to shudder as her fingers timidly touch my exposed fur through a gash in my armor. I'm suddenly aware of my stink and my dirty clothes. My fur feels matted and my braids are half undone. Now I spot a stain of blood on my sleeve.

"Are you sure I cannot offer you anything, lady Janessa?"

The elf smirks at me but shakes her head, "I am content."

"As you wish."

Across the room I can hear the men grow louder. A few voices begin to separate from the rabble and my ears pick up on their words. Flea bag. Grey skin. Carpet. Whore. Slut.

Susanna's fingers squeeze my shoulder gently as they call her name. She moves away and they greet her with raised glasses and shouts. Janessa goes back to her figures and her grumblings but I watch Susanna. She is tall but perfectly plump as many of the Nord women are here. Keeps the cold away I suppose. Her hair is fair and her cheeks are chapped from the harsh winds. Of course one must assume that she is friendly for the tips but she is one of few Nords I've seen who approaches me without hesitation. Not to mention the soft touches on my shoulders as she passes by.

"- dirty flea bag?"

I'm ripped from my admiration but an angry drunk voice. I can see Susanna looking absolutely furious, her free hand curled into a fist. Her face is flushed with rage and her eyes flick towards our table. The angry soldier is pointing at out table. Janessa sighs and puts away her chalk and slate.

"That is enough!" Susanna shouts over the noise of the room. The other patrons quiet and begin to stare. "You have disgraced yourself. Leave."

"We pay good money to drink here. Some mangy cat kills a few Imperials and suddenly she's drinking our mead and eating our bread?"

Susanna says something but its drowned out by a chorus of agreement from the other soldiers.

"I won't sit here and watch some fucking cat lay her hands on you," the soldiers says this as if it's supposed to be a compliment. Susanna continues to glare at him but she hesitates, unsure of how to handle the large group of drunk men.

The fur on the back of my neck is raised. My hand reaches for my dagger but then I remember I left it in our room. I am not defenseless though. Janessa shifts her weight slightly, bringing her feet square on the floor and watches my face intensely.

"Leave, now!" Susanna's voice quivers slightly. She's taking a step back. Shouldn't do that my girl, they're all bluster and mead anyway. Get in their face and they might back down. Might.

"I ain't done nothing," the soldier retorted. He wore his regulation blade at his side although the edge was dull. Lazy and careless then. Good to know.

"We're not dying in this godsforsaken war to let Skyrim be overrun with their sort. Those damn elves already outnumber us in our own fucking city."

The other soldiers are murmuring in agreement. The loft has become almost silent as the patrons watch the argument. I note that not one of them moves to help Susanna. With a resigned sigh I push my chair away from the table and stand. The floor sways a bit underneath my feet but nothing I can't handle. I can see the soldiers falter a bit. My petite frame doesn't reveal much sitting down but standing up I reach almost six feet tall, a fair match for any Nord. My heart is thundering in my chest. I can feel every hair on my back standing on end. Susanna moves to stop me but one of the soldiers grab her while the loud one stands. He is shorter for a Nord although this puts him only two inches or less beneath me. I would guess he's had far more to drink than I have but the Nords seem to love their mead more than water. There's no sway to his step as he advances on me.

"I believe," I say quietly, "that this lovely young lady has asked you to leave."

The soldier snarled at me, I could smell his breath from across the room. "Your pelt will make a fine rug."

I couldn't help myself. There are few things that bother me more than posturing men and their stupidity. My jaw worked itself and a wad of spit flew from my lips, striking the Stormcloak dead in the mouth. He let out a roar and his hand went to his sword.

I'm not sure if it's just Nordic men or if it's all men. But they are so incredibly slow. In the time it took him to wrestle his sword from its sheath I pounced forward. In one leap I'm face to face with him, one hand wrapped in the neck his cloak and the other caging one of his more… sensitive areas. His face quickly grew red and he released the hold on his sword. I smiled kindly at him and let him feel the sharp prick of my claws through the fabric of his pants. Janessa stood idly by my side, picking the dirt from beneath her fingernails with a dagger. I smiled at the soldier who had broken out in a cold sweat.

"I would think carefully on your next move, friends," the elf's voice was dangerous as was the glint in her eye. The man's friends released their weapons and watched me instead.

"Given that we've all been drinking tonight I am willing to chalk this up to a severe lapse in judgment. All I ask is an apology to my friend Susanna and we may all go our separate ways."

I wasn't exactly expecting him to fall to his knees, beg my forgiveness, and pledge his life to championing the cause of the dark elves in Windhelm. Neither was I expecting him to return my earlier favor and spit in my face. With a growl I brought my knee up into his groin as hard as I could. Janessa leapt forward to cover me as I slammed the Nord's head into the floor. I could hear the other patrons scrambling to leave the loft. Susanna was yelling for Elda.

A warning cry from Janessa came too late as another soldier grabbed me by my braids and drug me off his companion. A yowl escaped my throat as a boot landed in my gut. I could hear Janessa yelling my name. Two more blows connected with my stomach. I managed to latch onto one assailant's leg and sink my claws through his leather shin bracers. The man screamed in pain and I could see the floor darken with his blood. Suddenly two more soldiers drag me, kicked and screaming, to the floor. I whip my feet up and land a solid kick to one's nose while the other has to dodge backwards. More blood slicks the wooden floor and I can hear the door of the inn slam open below.

"Enough!"

Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced's roar shook the room as he took the stairs three at a time. He was flanked by no less than eight other Windhelm guards. These were not the Stormcloak guards I was scuffling with but rather seasoned warriors with years of experience and very sharp blades. Janessa was panting heavily. A long gash spilled blood down into her left eyes. She spat out a mouthful on the floor then wiped her blades on her breeches. Two soldiers lay at her feet clutching various body parts.

"What's all this then?"

I suddenly felt a severe pang of homesickness. I could imagine the sand and ocean with a bright sun beating down on my bare shoulders. But Yrsarald continued to stare at me, waiting for an explanation. And the only one I had was: they started it.

"Your soldiers attacked them!"

God bless Susanna. May she live forever and be rich and happy.

The blonde Nord woman shouldered her way past the huge commander and offered me her hand. I took it gratefully and found myself swaying a little. Janessa gripped my arm tightly to keep me upright and somewhat presentable. Blood was dribbling down the side of her face. I wanted to raise my hand and stem the wound but her mouth was set in that stubborn line that made me think better of it.

"The fucking cat jumped me!" the mouthy soldier was talking around a broken nose and what was probably a pair of black eyes. I couldn't recall his head being quite that big.

Before I could open my mouth to retort Janessa shook me slightly, refocusing my attention on the giant captain of the Windhelm guard. He was glaring down at me. I tried to look innocent. I know I didn't look much better than my victims.

"Take them away," he ordered gruffly.

9th of Sun's Dawn 4th Era 201 – morning – Palace of the Kings dungeons – Windhelm

"Idiot."

"Not now."

"Bloody idiot."

"You keep scowling at me you're going to make your face stuck like that."

Janessa was not in the least bit amused. We'd both been stripped of our weapons but they'd allowed us to keep our fur lined clothing. Even still the stone floor was absolutely freezing. We'd fallen asleep back to back, one of us occasionally turning to warm our fingers and noses. Right now Janessa was staring at the wall while I shivered miserably.

"It's not like he can just keep us down here forever."

The elf snorted loudly. "He can do whatever he want. He's a Jarl."

I decided not to argue. My stomach was growling and my head ached along with several others parts of my body. By way of apology I turned around and put my forehead agaisnt the back of Janessa's neck. Even through my fur I could feel her icy skin. She made a huffing noise but said nothing more.

"You're right, I was being foolish."

"Yes."

"Do you have a humble bone in your body?"

"Not a one, serrah."

I chuckled against her furred overcoat. Elsewhere in the dungeon I heard people beginning to move about. The guards most likely, starting their morning routines and making breakfast. My stomach rumbled once more.

The door to our hallway scraped open. I scrambled to my feet and swore as the cold hit my body with force. Janessa rubbed her arms and hands, choosing to wait on the floor.

To my surprise Ulfric walked through the doorway, filling it with his huge form, and pulled a chair close to the bars of our cell. Galmar followed him in his bear armor and in each hand he carried a steaming bowl of porridge. I took both without ceremony and handed one down to Janessa.

"You will be traveling to Falkreath today. Galmar has ordered horses to be readied as well as supplies for your journey. I expect to hear word of your progress with the hold within a fortnight. That should be ample time to make your way there and assess the Imperial position within the region."

I felt dumbstruck. The bowl warmed my freezing hands but I made no move to eat. Janessa on the other hand was almost half finished with hers. "I'm not sure I understand, Jarl Ulfric."

The man looked at me wearily. It was no small measure to imagine he'd been up most the night considering his options in the situation. Or perhaps his decision was easy and there were other things keeping him awake at night.

"I have need of your services, Ice Veins. Will you serve?"

Two hours later we were escorted down the ramparts of Windhelm's great walls towards the stables. A pair of dark horses waited for us, both saddled and stamping in the brisk morning hair. Rolaf held their reins and while he didn't say much, his friendly manner and calm words to the horses as we mounted helped calm my nerves. With a small boost I clambered atop my horse, feeling the animal move underneath my legs as I shifted my weight.

"Be careful on the road, the cold brings out desperate animals," Roalf warned as we strapped down our weapons.

"Thank you," Janessa replied. She gave her horse a soft nudge and they began down the road. She didn't look back and I trotted after her with a sheepish shrug towards Rolaf.

"Talos guide you!" he called after us.

Talos guide us indeed.