Introductory notes for the series:
Age groups are as follows:
Teenager: 13-19
Young adult: 20-29
Adult: 30-39
Middle-aged: 40-55
Old-adult: 56-65
Elderly: 66+
Characters will be created by me unless otherwise noted.
Character: Baluk, adult Stormcloak soldier
26th of Frostfall, 4E 201
It's been a month since I was assigned to patrol duty here, in the roads of The Pale. Of course, nothing has happened. Who would want to spill blood over such a gods-forsaken place? It is not life but existence in this cold land. I grew up in Whiterun - in the safe, warmer walls. But here, the cold gets colder each day. It's not even winter yet, and I need healing for frostbite.
The war has been going on for a considerable amount of time, and it's dragging everyone down. I want freedom for my people, but I don't want to bring Skyrim to economic collapse. I signed up to fight, and fight I will. But I'm losing hope, and I don't think we can continue on this path.
I saw one of the soldiers in our patrol dead a few days ago at dawn. His older brother had just been killed at Whiterun during our failed battle. He overdosed on skooma during the night - there was just bottle after bottle in his bag. Poor kid. His parents were devastated to see that their only sons were lost to the war, albeit one indirectly.
But that's the reality of the world we live in. Apparently the cost for freedom is the death of children. But I remind myself of the ills of the Empire and Thalmor. That fuels me to keep going through the tough times.
For Talos.