18th of Last Seed, 4E 201:
Upon waking in the bed at the Bannered Mare, my whole body surged with the pain of aching muscles. Particularly, my legs cried out and burned from the weight of yesterday's journey. I noticed upon donning my clothes that my wounds had healed quite nicely over night. While I had not sustained any real damage, it was still a bit surprising to see the cuts fully healed over. I remember cutting my fingers while cooking with Mother and the bandages and rags I would run through as blood seemed to infinitely pool out of me. I suppose I should be thankful this is no longer the case.
After breakfast, I set out to explore Whiterun a bit. Outside the inn, I was met with cold, bitter morning frost that powdered the foot paths, I tugged my cloak closer and took a brisk pace as I walked about the city. In the day's light, I could see that the city sprawled more than I expected, beyond the initial merchants district I had found myself in. Several housing quarters separated the upper city from its lower half, all of varying size and shape. I saw many of the denizens depart and begin their day, some even stopping to listen to a preacher man ranting about Talos near the common square. The Nords in Cyrodil were in uproar upon the declaration, I knew Skyrim would be worse. The only thing distracting from the man's ramblings was the once beautiful tree that sat in the center of the square. Its bark emanated a particular warmth that contrasted the chilled morning air, even with the tree's current state. I spoke to a follower of Kynareth that was tending to flowers near the tree's base, and they told me its name was the Gildergreen. They spoke of a time where Gildergreen blossomed greatly in the spring, and produced the most beautiful leaves in the autumn, but now, it was nothing more than an empty shell slowly losing its luster. They asked for my help in attempting to restore its life and pointed me in the direction of a Hagraven nest which contained the blade Nettlebane. With it, I would be able to make a trek toward the sanctuary and take the sap from a larger tree. I obliged, hoping I have time to help a bit later, the tree may be dying, but it has time yet. I read of Hagravens long ago, nasty she-crows that hold great magical capabilities. It would be more than fair to say that I must save this fight for later.
Just beyond the Gildergreen was the most impressive mead hall Jorrvaskr, the home of the Companions I had seen slay the giant. It resembles a nordic longship, complete with bannered shields adorning the sides and wooden figureheads on either end. I saw several hardy fighters either lounging or sparring in the yard, as the legendary Skyforge puffed smoke from above them. As much as I would love to see how the true warriors of Skyrim operate, I also desire not to embarrass myself., Another fight to save, right Father?
I had my fill of Whiterun shortly after I was accosted by a man near the main gate. I overheard him complaining about "Imperial Steel'" toward a smith before he felt the need to question my intentions. He asked "Grey mane or Battle-Born" to which I responded to confusion. The man explained that the Grey Manes had sided with the Stormcloaks whilst the Battle-Borns stayed true to the empire and proceeded to ask me once more what side I was on. I did not come to Skyrim for the political turmoil nor do I wish to be involved in it and I told the man about the same. He walked away grumbling that we would all have to pick a side eventually, and I couldn't help but shake the feeling of truth in his words.
I quickly apologized for the man to the smith who was a kind redguard woman named Adrianne Avenicci. She showed me a bit of her wares before commenting on the Skyforge, as I am sure many smiths tend to do in the land. She then asked where I was headed and wondered if I could deliver a letter to Riverwood, a small hamlet toward the south. I accepted as I had no direction as to where to go and figured heading to the south would do well, hoping it would get more warm the further I went. My fathers Nord blood flows within me but it does little against the cold of Skyrim.
The journey was very uneventful, beyond me getting to see more of the beautiful nature of the land. It indeed got slightly more temperate as I went further south, and I found the auburn I had gotten used to being replaced by verdant green as grass began to sprout more abundantly and shrubbery grew more dense. As I crossed the bridge that crossed a large river, the land had completely transformed into a lush forest, complete with flora and fauna. Riverwood itself was nestled alongside the river and held no more than four or so buildings. A quaint village in every sense of the word, that did however sprout quite a large lumber mill, which I used to gather some bits of firewood. The Bannered Mare had left my coin purse light so I knew I would be camping tonight.
I decided to ask a man named Lan for the whereabouts of Gerdur, the woman I was delivering the letter to. Lan then proceeded to not tell me anything about what I asked and instead launched into a tale about a man who had saved his life from bandits by the rivers edge the other night. The tale seemed to go on for an eternity but by the end, he had finally told me where Gerdur was. While I am loath to admit it, I may look into this fellow Lan described, he sounds like a formidable fighter and after two days on the road, I could see that a companion would prove immeasurably helpful. After I delivered the letter, Gerdur mentioned the town of Helgen that was about an hour up the road. I believe I will make my way there tomorrow and see if I can find any more work. Riverwood proved to be lacking in terms of employment.
I write as I lay under the stars; the campsite was hard work and is not nearly as comfortable as an inn, but the view is prepossessing. Each constellation is easily seen and provides a tapestry on which I hope my dreams are weaved. I cannot help but think about the residents of Dawnstar who suffer from nightmares, nor can I forget the face of the thief outside Whiterun. I believe I'll watch the skies a tad longer tonight, in an effort to forget the memories among the sea of stars.