Author's note: This is very AU…I am ignoring the Khajiit "breeds" that are settled via moon phases, for the purposes of this fic, all Khajiit are like the ones you see forming trade caravans along the roads in Skyrim. I'm also going to leave out the peculiar speech patterns of Khajiit in Skyrim…this journal is written in Shetani's native tongue. I always figured that the language barrier caused the odd speech patterns of Khajiit in-game. So, you are reading the journal as it would appear to a Khajiit as they are reading it...does that make sense? I must admit, I am new to the Elder Scrolls series, so I may not know as much of the lore as others…but I think I have a good story here all the same. At any rate, I'm hoping that working on something else for awhile will cure my writer's block with my Dragon Age fic, The Scorpion's Journey.
Third day of First Seed (March 3rd)
My name is Shetani…Well, back in Elsweyr I was called Ma'Shetani, but as I have been exiled from my tribe, I feel that my prefix is no longer necessary. A prefix to indicate status is only useful when one is with their own people…I have not seen another like me in a very long time. Being a Skyrim tome, Journal, you may not know this, but a Khajiit's prefix denotes their status…"Ma" indicates that I am still a child. I am approaching adulthood, but still very much a child in the eyes of my elders, as despite reaching sexual maturity recently I have not yet had any children or deigned to seek a mate. I was to going to find a mate and try for a litter after the moon sugar harvests, when the timing would be better… there was a young hunter in my tribe who I liked very much, and he was to return around then….but it no longer matters.
I can never return to my tribe again. I have been cursed with great magical talent, and since dedicated mages are unusual among our people, I was never trained in how to control it. I don't want to be too specific in case this journal ever ends up in the wrong hands, but let's just say I ended up having one of those big misunderstandings that end with a bunch of destroyed moon sugar fields. No innocents were hurt, but our Clan Mother was very angry, and it was decided that it would be in the best interest of all if I left. And so I left, my dwelling and all assets bequeathed back to my parents, who mourned as though I had been executed rather than banished.
After my exile, I wandered for a bit, heading to Cyrodiil in hopes of finding a place to hone my magic. Unfortunately, I soon learned that the mages in Cyrodiil are too wrapped up in politics to actually teach. An innkeeper told me of the College of Winterhold in Skyrim, and so I set off the next day.
I am now in Skyrim, though my circumstances could certainly be better. Upon crossing the border, I got captured along with a horsethief and a handful of rebels who call themselves Stormcloaks. Looks like I've gotten caught up in some kind of war. Imperial soldiers took me to a small town called Helgen, where I was to be executed along with the others. The other soldiers didn't seem so bad; they promised me that they'd send my remains back to Elsweyr. If not for the captain being a complete bitch, I would likely have been spared. A Khajiit just can't catch a break, it seems.
Now, as I'm still alive to write this, I should explain. A dragon attacked Helgen as I was being shoved unceremoniously onto the block, and a man named Ralof, one of the Stormcloaks I'd gotten captured with, helped me escape. A soldier named Hadvar had offered to help as well, but I did not trust these Imperials after being almost executed by them for basically no reason, and the rebel seemed trustworthy enough. It is also in his sister's house that I am staying in, and his aunt gave me this book to write in, to help get my thoughts together. I will remember the kindness of these Nords for as long as I live...most men and mer can't be bothered to help a Khajiit in need.
It's time for me to get some rest now. Gerdur, Ralof's sister, asked me to go to Whiterun in the morning to inform the Jarl (Jarls are apparently the equivalent of our tribal leaders) of the dragon attack on Helgen. Normally, I wouldn't bother, but these Nords have helped me a great deal. Besides, there might be some kind of reward from the Jarl…if I'm going to make it to the College, I'll need coin. And carrying important news like this could be my ticket past the guards…I've heard that most Nords don't even let Khajiit into their cities.
Always yours,
Shetani