Twenty Fifth of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I headed back down the mountain, and managed to avoid the troll again, I will be making at least one more journey up this mountain and I very much intend to kill the damn thing next time.
I was caught in a blizzard as I passed through the valley beneath the mountain, though made it back to Riverwood before nightfall and stayed there overnight.
I'm unsure as to how to progress now. The trek to Ustengrav will be long, but not necessarily arduous, and I need to do it at some point. Despite that I think I shall stay in Whiterun for a little while, then head out. I may have to invest in some considerably warmer armour, or perhaps simply some padding for that armour which I already possess.
Twenty Seventh of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I've spent the last day or so practicing my blacksmithing, such a skill may come in handy. With this newfound skill I have forged myself a long sword, in the same style as I used to wield my youth, an old moonstone one. Alas, no shop in Whiterun seems able to supply me with clothing that one would expect to be commonplace; that being clothing that is warm and reasonably tough. These Nords are far too accustomed to such dreadful cold, though the same can be said for the non-Nordic denizens of Skyrim. At least the khajit have an excuse for putting up with this weather, with their fur. Come to think of it, though, I'm sure that same fur makes the deserts of Elsweyr hellish.
Rather than trek on foot to Ustengrav, I elected to take a carriage to Morthal, a small hold capital that seemingly lies not far from my destination. I shall walk from there. Upon arrival, I was greeted by another dragon, though this was a much easier fight that that on the mountain, due mainly to the entirety of the Morthal guard joining the fight.
Twenty Eighth of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I left Morthal for Ustengrav, and found it to be inhabited by bandits and necromancers, such pests as seem to infest every minor ruin. Upon reaching the horn (or rather, where the horn should have been), I encountered a note left by someone who had beaten me to it (how exactly they managed to reach it is an interesting question, given that I had to utilise the techniques that the Greybeards taught me more than once), telling me to rent a particular room in the Sleeping Giant Inn, back in Riverwood. This has become a wild goose chase, I'm sure of it. Someone is playing games, and the list of suspects is frustratingly long. Regardless, I encountered a Nord by the name of Benor, who has requested he be allowed to join me in my travels. I believe he could be useful in a fight. He certainly looks that way.
Twenty Ninth of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I walked to Solitude from Morthal, to take a carriage back to Whiterun in the morning. Benor is a quiet man, seemingly happy to simply do as he is told. There's little else to say about him, he seems like a stereotypical Nord; big, stoic and seemingly dumb as a bag of hammers; this is fine, however, I did not recruit him for conversation, I recruited him for the extra brawn.
Thirtieth of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
Took a carriage to Whiterun, had a minor run in with the guards. They evidently don't take to kindly to my liberating an apple from a stall in the market. I had myself a set of elven armour forged; it is superior is most every way to my previous, leather garments, given that it provides protection against both the weather and arms, even if it does hold that stigma of being associated with the Thalmor.
Altmeri armour is vastly superior to other amours in Tamriel, while expensive and hard to smith, it is fantastically strong for its weight, rivaled only by mithril, of which there does not seem to be any in Skyrim.
Thirty First of Last Seed, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
Much has happened today, I shall attempt to condense it so that it may fit upon this page.
I met up with the woman (Delphine) who had taken the horn of Jürgen Windcaller from its pedestal before I could. She gave it to me, and asked me many questions. Eventually, it came down to her wanting to know if I truly were dragonborn (a question she shares with the Greybeards), and so we set off for Kynesgrove, where she had discovered, through some mystical means, that a dragon would be resurrected. There we encountered the same, black, dragon which had attacked Helgen, and a second, freshly resurrected. The first fled, leaving the second to attack us. We (Benor, Delphine and I) dispatched the beast with little issue. Perhaps the beast was simply weak from its long slumber.
Delphine claims to be a member of the blades. While such a thing is possible, I have difficulty believing it, I recall the blades requiring each agent to have been handpicked by another from the Imperial Legion; I've seen people handle a sword far better, and she doesn't seem to be as intelligent as I would imagine would be expected. She seems to believe that the Thalmor are behind the dragons returning, though how they would have a hand in this is not something I can imagine, but in the lack of any other leads, I shall humour her
First Heartfire, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I walked from Kynesgrove back to Ivarstead. Had to stop a mile or two away from the village to make camp, but I should make it in time to make the journey to High Hrothgar tomorrow, whereupon I will give the horn to the Greybeards.
Second Heartfire, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I made the trek up to High Hrothgar and gave the horn of Jürgen Windcaller to the greybeards. As such they formally recognised me as dragon born, and taught me more of the Voice. I maintain that this magic is limited in its uses, though they seem to insist on teaching it to me, as though they anticipate it replacing my sword.
Third Heartfire, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I walked down from High Hrothgar, through Ivarstead to Helgen. I'll meet up with Delphine in Riverwood tomorrow.
Helgen was inhabited by a bandit troupe. They were not insignificant, in that they numbered in the dozens. Fortunately, Benor and I were more than a match for them. By forcing them to engage us in the narrow passages of the ruined buildings, we could fight them in single file. This greatly improves my confidence in Benor's abilities. He shows a surprising amount of intellect while fighting, whether or not that intellect carries over outside of battle is immaterial.
Fourth Heartfire, Two Hundredth and First Year of the Fourth Era
I made it to Riverwood and spoke to Delphine. We now have a plan to get me into the Thalmor embassy in Skyrim. This should, if nothing else, eliminate the Thalmor as the reason behind the dragons returning. I'm to meet a contact of hers in Solitude, who will fill me in with the specific details; he should be waiting in an inn called the Winking Skeever.
Rather than stay in Riverwood for the night, I pressed on to Whiterun, where I will stay before catching a carriage out to Solitude.
I resent the fact that I'm required to put myself in jeopardy to this degree, in what is certainly a fool's errand. Regardless, there is no way beyond this to eliminate the Thalmor as suspects, even if why we suspect them at all is a mystery to me.
