Author's note: This story is written from the perspective of a journal from chapter 1 through 9, from chapter 10 onwards it is a mix of both journals and regular third person writing. Please leave your thoughts and reviews and don't be afraid to be honest!

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-Journal-

Last Seed, 17th, 4E 201

I should have died today, not just once, but twice, there's already a blank journal inside the my knapsack, so with all these insane things happening I figured I might as well write. Very few of us made it out of Helgen, and I get the feeling that things are far from over. First-hand accounts will likely be very important in the future.

Where to begin? I suppose I should speak of myself and where I came from. I have a lot to explain to give full context to what might seem like ramblings. Though my writing may not seem it, I am in fact Khajiit. Who my true parents were I will likely never know, one day I was left on the doorstep of the old Chorrol orphanage, with no trace of who had left me or even the reason for my abandonment. I was a young cub no more than a few weeks old, the old caretaker Irma Landris had never taken care of a young Khajiit, she did not know how one should raise a young one such as myself.

So she didn't raise me as Khajiit, but as an Imperial. And try she did, I was given the name Sylvia, and was raised just like any other orphan. The others at the orphanage accepted me in the beginning for the most part, but as years passed, the prejudice my people face slowly surfaced. It started simple, Cruns doll would go missing, who to blame but me the Khajiit? Veruni's Sweetroll was taken from under her nose? Ah, but of course it was Sylvia, her mitts were made for thievery!

The years passed and the accusations grew. A home was broken into and to the others I was the culprit, of course I wasn't, but rumors like to spread like a plague in a town like ours, and all it took was one pointed finger and a yell to make one as undesirable, unadoptable, unlovable as a scabbed skeever. I would never become anyone's daughter.

I was entering quite a rebellious point In my 12th year, I had started down a path of becoming as low as the others had said. of course they were harmless pranks at the end of the day, a loose stool here, itching powder there. But in hindsight, it didn't help my sterling reputation. Irma had realized I needed something to put my energy towards, so she decided to take me to an old friend in the town. The old huntsman Vlaric was beginning to feel his age and the quality of his game has started to suffer as did his shop, with his son Seris being of no help. Irma persuaded Vlaric to teach me to hunt with him, and be his assistant.

It was here that I learned archery and a love for it, I recall Vlaric saying that I was a natural with a bow, not the best by far of course, I was still young and an amateur, but that potential he saw nonetheless. I still think that's one of the best compliments I've ever been given.

4 years passed and I had also become quite a barterer in the shop, I was always able to squeeze an extra septim out of a sale. Vlaric appreciated this very much, and for a time a part of me felt I had found a place. But fate is cruel, and time is even crueler. Vlaric passed away, on his grave I left the bow he trained me with, and took my time to mourn. The shop had went to his son, a few weeks after his burial I went to the shop to continue helping. Seris sneered when I walked in and said "A cat like you has no place in MY shop!", and to that I said "A dog like you doesn't deserve this shop!". a fierce slap against my snout is what I received for that. I held in the tears and left, the shop closed down a few months after that, it seems a lot of people didn't want to go to HIS shop, especially since his game and skins had the appearance of being ravaged by an animal. The taste being only slightly more appealing. Seris left after that for the Imperial City.

About a month ago is when my life truly changed. Irma was the one person that was a constant in my 19 years of life, the old gray haired imperial woman had so much kindness and love to give to everyone around her. And yet she always gave me extra attention, she always asked how I was doing, was quick to put down any rumors about me in town. Irma was already old enough when she took me in, often it felt like she was the oldest woman in Cyrodiil. It was naïve of me too hope for her to live even longer, but I still did. One thing I did every morning was bring her food, some nice stew that she taught me to cook to perk her up in the morning. It was a way of giving back all the love she gave to me, it was also why I was the first one to find her so still.

I remember begging her to get up, tears running down my fur, it wasn't the departure that hurt but the lack of a farewell. I had only felt like this once before and that was with Vlaric, but I was with him when he passed. The last thing I said to her was "I'll see you in the morning, Irma." I wish I had been able to tell her how much she meant to me. and even now the memory brings me to tears, just writing this down stains the pages of this journal.

It was soon after the burial that I realized that nothing was holding me there anymore. I was the only other being in that orphanage, the only one who wasn't ever adopted, only two people in this town ever cared about me and now they were gone. I just need to go somewhere, find a reason for life, and so I decided I was going to leave. I had briefly entertained the idea of heading to Elswyr to see my "homeland", but I never really felt any connection to my own kin, maybe one day. The nearest provinces were Hammerfell and Skyrim. By that point I already had a backpack ready, a quiver of arrows and a bow for protection, decent traveling clothes and all I needed was a destination. I took a septim out of my coin purse and flipped it in the air.

Skyrim it is.

The journey to Skyrim's border wasn't too treacherous, but on my way I did encounter one bandit. He was Argonian, red scales and chipped horns on his head "your money or your life little kitty" is what he said. He held a small iron dagger and was a good a few feet from me. I quickly pulled my bow out and shot him straight in the shoulder, it was enough to make him flee, he obviously wasn't used to anyone fighting back. if It had come down to it, it wouldn't have been my first time ending a life. About 4 years ago a Nord bandit had ambushed Vlaric, I was terrified and he had Vlaric pinned to the ground and was searching his knapsack. Vlaric had sent me out to go check on our snares, and had only just returned to the scene. The bandit had not yet noticed me, so I took my aim and let loose. I remember his gurgling cries as his blood choked him and my Arrowhead pierced his throat. He did not die a quick death, I recall falling to my knees and my lunch spewed on to the ground, Vlaric rushed over and grabbed me, reassuring me that I had no choice. I was crying, I was only 15 then.

I had known that the bandit on my road to Skyrim could have been just as easily killed me, but I chose to let him live. I suppose I was not ready to take another life. And considering the events of this day, that is a thought I find quite amusing.

I finally passed Bruma and made my way across the border, I was not quite familiar with the politics of the land but I was vaguely aware of quite some strife going on in Skyrim, making crossing this particular border quite dangerous so I moved in a cautious manner. it was then that I heard the knocking of an arrow, and the sound of a blade leaving the scabbard I turn towards the sound and see Legion soldiers aiming their weapons towards me, near the road I can see a man being bound and gagged and put on a cart along with others in similar blue armor. another man was being pulled off a house. I was ready to question what was happening when a sharp pain on the back of my neck put me in a stupor and I faded into unconsciousness.

I had awoken in a cart, my clothes and supplies gone, now wearing rags befitting a prisoner with my hands tied. "Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there." The man in front of me said. On the cart ride, he helped me figure out my situation. I wasn't just caught crossing the border, I was caught crossing the border alongside the leader of a rebellion against the Empire, and I was now being taken to be executed along with him. Ulfric Stormcloak, I've heard that name once or twice in passing back in Cyrodiil. He was the absolutely last person I expected to ever meet in my travels and here I was on my way to my death alongside him.

We had reached our destination of Helgen, and as we were lined up to be executed I was finally called up, I told him my name. "You're a long way from Elswyr, we'll have your body shipped there" he then realized that apparently I wasn't on the list he had in his hands, and for a moment I thought my salvation had arrived only for his Superior to callously order my death regardless. I considered running but the horse thief I was with already tried so and the archers made quick work of him, I wouldn't survive running either.

So there I was against my death, I just witnessed the man before me have his head severed and then was called to next. I never really prayed to any god before, and at that moment, I was praying to every god there was. we heard a few odd sounds in the air that halted us for a moment, but they proceeded nonetheless. They didn't have the decency to remove the previous body when I felt the boot press up against my back and lay me down to the headsman Stone. I had braced myself the Executioner lifted his ax and that's when I saw it. Like some sick Divine Providence, from beyond the clouds came in a dragon. For a moment I thought I had died already and this was some sort of vision I was having. I didn't take long for me to realize it was very much real. It's mere landing on the tower above was enough to shake the ground.

The moments following were a blur following one person to the next trying to survive, eventually I was stuck between two people, the man in the cart with me and the imperial soldier who had called my name. I decided to take my chances with the imperial soldier. Inside the Helgen fort he set me free of my bindings and let me gather some imperial armor and nearby bow for protection. He told me his name was Hadvar. After dressing myself, to which he courteously turned away, we made our way deeper into the fortress looking for a way out. Along the way we met hostile Stormcloak soldiers also trying to escape, we attempted to reason with them but they immediately tried to kill us. I was I tried not to mortally wound anyone, shooting arrows into their legs, but Hadvar finished off both soldiers. He then grab me by the shoulder and said "we are between life and death, if they try to kill us, you can't hold back, do you understand?" I told him I did and the next soldiers I aim to hit with lethal intent. And my arrows aim was true.

As we found our way through a destroyed wall of Helgen that led to a cave, we managed to sneak past a Bear, the spiders we weren't as fortunate to avoid. Nevertheless an arrow through the head kills all regardless of species. although I was craving a bath more than anything at that point. Finally we saw an exit as we headed through, the daylight blinded us for a brief second. We ducked behind a couple of rocks, as the dragon flew overhead but but luckily it had no interest in us. We did it, we had escaped. and I have escaped not only my execution, but a dragon. Me and Hadvar had a conversation as we made our way to the nearby town of Riverwood where he said he had family. he considered the possibility of Ulfric Stormcloak controlling the dragon but I found that hard to believe. He then suggested that I should join the legion and their fight against Ulfric. It bewildered me, not an hour ago they were ready to execute me but he seemed quite sincere in his suggestion. "I'd say you've done enough to earn your pardon." And he said my archery skills were quite impressive. I did mention the fact that I was Khajiit and if the imperial would even accept them, he told me the imperials were accepting anyone at this point. Honestly I'm not considerate but my mind is too clouded at this point.

We dispatched a few wolves on our way towards Riverwood and as we finally crossed the gates into town he was immediately accosted by his family, asking him what happened him. We ate inside his family's home as we told the tale, honestly I was surprised they took us seriously but we did look quite rattled. his family were quite grateful in my help in getting them here but they did ask me for one thing. They asked me to go to the nearby town of Whiterun to ask their Jarl for assistance in this dragon situation. they were quite hospital so of course I agreed to do this task provided I am given a night's rest, as I am in no condition to make that journey quite yet. their daughter was quite talkative towards me. honestly it felt nice to talk with someone who wasn't seeing me as a Khajiit, just as a person who saw an "awesome dragon." I'm now sitting on the bed, I had asked for a journal and some quill and ink which they provided me, and began writing this journal.

my eyes are getting heavy and I have a long journey ahead of me, Hadvar's family provided me with some septims so I can buy some supplies from the shop across the road, but for now I feel I have written enough to explain the events of the day and who I am. I hope my entries from this day forward will become shorter and more manageable but something tells me my days are only going to get more eventful from here on out.

-Sylvia Landris

-Journal End-