Archive of Our Own ^beta

Could not find my previous journal upon packing up my camp from last night; purchased a new one at the last village before the border.

Arrived in Skyrim in the evening. Set up camp just off of the road; rations are low but I should reach Falkreath in the next day or so. With the remaining light from the setting sun and that of my campfire, I've re-read Nelinn's letter. It is rather to-the-point, as all of them have been so far. I keep looking for clues that aren't there, information she could have included that...maybe something to tell how she survived, how she made it to Skyrim, how...how many things came to be.

I think in the last letter I sent her, before she asked me to come to Skyrim and meet her in Falkreath, I told her about my studies these past few years, all I've done and learnt to keep other people safe from what killed our family. I think I explained at some point why I write like someone learned now, and she doesn't think I am some impostor pretending to be her beloved sister?

These thoughts will not help me sleep. I should think of better things. Can I think of better things that are not days long past?

I awoke after a strange dream (that I cannot remember) to find a wolf had killed a skeever a short distance from my camp. It stared at me for several minutes before running away, taking its prey with it. I cannot help but feel this may be some kind of omen. I have poured out my last bottle of ale as libation for Hircine and Kynareth in addition to my usual prayers.

Sometime around noon, judging by the sun, I was attacked by some kind of medium-sized large cat on the road. It broke my left leg, but now its hide and everything else useful I could tear from its carcass now sit under a preservation spell in my bag. I will forever bless the wandering mage who taught me that one even before I began truly studying magic; it has proven valuable time and time and time again.

Hobbling into Falkreath took the rest of the day, stopping to rest frequently. I sit now to write in the Dead Man's Drink, Falkreath city's most central inn. This is where Nelinn said in her letter that she would meet me. This is where I will get proof that I was not the only one to survive the attack that killed the rest of our farmstead, and where she will get proof that I am who I say I am.

I am too tired tonight, but in the morning I will ask the innkeep if she has seen my sister.

I have slept late and woken unsettled, though once again I can't remember what I dreamed. My broken leg pains me, but there is only so much I can do. I don't have the magic to always cast a soothing spell, but I do what I can. Before I ask after my sister I will hobble to the alchemist; I have some coin left, and I don't want to see my only living family for the first time in five years pale with pain.

On the way to the alchemist - Grave Concoctions is the name of the shop, and Zaria is the name of the pretty Redguard who owns it - I saw a missive about a vampire that the Vigilants of Stendarr have a bounty on in Falkreath. I may not know who the Vigilants of Stendarr are, but vampires I know well. I will be collecting on that bounty unless someone else gets to it first. You are a new journal and so you do not know, but it will be a strange day indeed if I ever knowingly leave a vampire alive.

I now have a poultice for my leg, and while my skill in Restoration is not good enough to heal it all in a flash now that it has been set, the poultice will help, especially if I stay off of my feet. No matter how much I want to go vampire-chasing, I don't want to risk my own death, not when I'm so close to meeting my one surviving family member. In our letters, Nelinn hasn't yet explained how she came to Skyrim, but I don't particularly care, so long as she's alive and well - which, in her letters, she seems to be.

I have hope. For the first time since that horrible day, I have hope again. Perhaps after I have confirmed that I am no longer alone, I will be able to dream of good things for the future again.

I did not ask the innkeep (her name is Valga) about Nelinn yesterday. I feel a damn fool for it, but between the healing and the thoughts of my imminent hunt, it slipped my mind. I must ask today. I've not seen her myself yet, not even a passing flash of red hair like my own or a half-heard voice with the accent of rural Tir Druadach. But I still have hope. She will be here, or she will have left a note with Valga with where to catch her next and why she is not here. She promised.

As I was walking from my rented room to the bar to ask, I ran into the vampire that the missive was about. A shard of sunlight took her down quickly, and now I must find one of these Vigilants of Stendarr for my reward. Valga said that they have a hall up in the north and a tower far to the east, but patrols will travel about the land frequently; my closest hope is to run into a patrol, it seems. Those who saw had no opposition to me claiming the vampire's jewellery and some of the other things in her possession.

Spirit Queen take...something, I don't know what, but Valga cannot recall seeing another woman who looks like me anytime in the past few days besides me. A courier did come shortly before I did, though, with a letter for her to set aside. She is going to look for it. I will...play a few games of dice, I suppose, to dull the nerves. Why didn't she come? What happened?

Found a Vigilant of Stendarr just before sitting down to write this; she was fair and armoured, and gave me potions and scrolls for relieving Tamriel of the vampire. The Vigilants of Stendarr, I learnt, are hunters of daedra worshippers. This one was so emphatic that I did not ask how Dunmer or Reachfolk like myself would fit in the categories. I would have liked to speak more with her, I think, had I been less struck by my sister's letter.

I slept late again, this time lying in bed until well after dawn. She was 'delayed', she said, but not by what. She apologised profusely, and sent a gift with the letter - a silver ring with a small round setting of amber. I don't think I'll wear it, but I don't want to sell it either; it's from my sister. Does she worry I'm not who I say I am? I don't know what I can say in writing to prove it. Even my handwriting has changed since they all were alive, since I saw Nelinn last.

While eating breakfast, I overheard Narri, the lead (of sorts) barmaid talking about a barrow on the hill that supposedly has vampires and other undead in it. There's a bounty. I'm going to investigate, now that my leg is healed. Zaria's poultice did wonderful work and there is no more pain at all. Once I'm done eating, I will go ask for directions to the entrance of the barrow. Shriek-something, I think I heard.

Utterly exhausted, but satisfied. There were several vampires in the barrow and now there are none. I have slept until after noon, so I am glad that I paid for my room again yesterday. After I eat and bathe, I will go speak with the Jarl's steward about the reward.

I have been paid for my service and I've sold whatever possessions I could carry from the dead vampires. This will last me for a time. Now...now I must decide what to do. Nelinn says she waits for me in Whiterun, several days' walk north and east. I...it is not as if I have anywhere else to go; I abandoned what fragments of a life I made to chase after Nelinn, and now here I am in an unfamiliar land surrounded by unfamiliar people, and my sister could not meet me where she said she would be.

I should...I should calm myself, is what I should do. There could be any number of reasons why she could not meet me. She may have gotten injured, as I did. I will spend another day in Falkreath to recover from last night's battles, and I will pray to Kynareth for guidance as I always do.

Tomorrow I begin the walk toward Whiterun. I know I could take a carriage, but I don't want to pay and I do want to become more familiar with this region. I have a map, I have my bow and my axe and my spells, I will be fine.

I spent all of today in Grave Concoctions, assisting and speaking with Zaria. She is witty, pleasant to talk to, and very knowledgeable about her craft. It was overall a good day. (She reminds me somewhat of Rosalind, but I will not tell her that. I do not imagine people enjoy being told they are reminiscent of a stranger's dead wife.)

Valga has asked me to take a package to the innkeeper in Helgen on my way toward Whiterun. It's not particularly large or heavy, so I agreed, especially since she said the other innkeep would pay me for the delivery. I spent some time earlier this morning, before writing this, going over Nelinn's most recent letter again, looking for...anything that could be a clue. She was delayed coming to Falkreath, she's very sorry, and she will be able to meet me in Whiterun soon. It will take me several days to walk, for I don't want to pay for a carriage and I want to familiarise myself with the land - as I've said - but I'm willing to do it.

Anything is worth reuniting with my only family; I've been alone since the attack, I feel, even with the friends I've made in passing and the dalliances that have warmed my nights. And yet, I can't think of how it would be so different than a friend...except that Nelinn would understand my hatred of vampires and necromancers, she would understand why I can't rest when I hear there are some to purge from Tamriel, so that they don't do to another family and farmstead what they did to mine. No passing dalliance can repair the hole in my heart where Rosalind and Sabah once were, nor do I think I will ever let go of the grief from the loss of our children.

Parents, siblings, cousins, spouses, children, friends found in farmhands and nearby steadings, all rest in Aetherius now, leaving me behind to mourn over peices too small to be picked up again. Me and Nelinn.

Left Falkreath around midday. Camped just off of the road, concealed by bushes. I don't imagine I'll have much to say until I reach Helgen, in truth. Worries and wonders and dreams that never will be fulfilled. We had wanted to have our own farm, you know? Rosie and Sabah and I, with our children. A place of our own, where we could raise Eslyn and Iyad as good as we had been, perhaps even better between the three of us. Rosie would have her herb trade, Sabah would have his woodwork, and I my hunting when were were not needed to take task on the farm itself. Or perhaps we would have just a house, like we had on my parent's steading, by the lake so we could teach Eslyn and Iyad to fish and swim.

But there is no point in dreaming for what can no longer be, is there?

Arrived in Helgen in the early evening. Spoke with the innkeep; she gave me free room and board for the night in payment for the package, which suffices for me. The travel was uneventful; I walked along with a Khajiit caravan for much of it, and their conversation was interesting and exhausting. I do not think I could tell them how much I appreciate and appreciated the distraction from my own thoughts.

I will not stay in Helgen. I hear nothing of vampires in the area and I am uninjured. My path heads farther north toward Riverwood and then Whiterun the moment I am ready to travel in the morning.

Riverwood makes me think of Falkreath as a town rather than a city. I am once again merely passing through, as the walk today was even less eventful than that from Falkreath to Helgen. I will sleep, I will wake in the morning and eat, and then I continue along the road again.

Something to note - on the way to Riverwood there were some standing stones, which a passing local informed me were called the Guardian Stones. I spent some time praying and meditating among them and placed my hand on the one carved with the shape of a mage. I feel...different, somehow, but I'm not sure how to explain it. The passer-by mentioned that there are thirteen of these; perhaps Nelinn and I can look for them all.

The innkeep in Riverwood, I believe her name is Delphine, keeps watching me. I cannot tell why; there are plenty of other hunters and armed travellers passing through the inn. But I will be out of her sight soon enough, now that I have finished breakfast and have made a note of her behaviour.

A bandit attacked me shortly after leaving Riverwood's outskirts this morning. He now rests in the care of the Spirit Queen, may she judge him fairly. I am camped somewhat farther off of the road than I have been; this portion of Whiterun hold is somewhat more rocky than the parts of Falkreath Hold I passed through.

I am nearly out of ink; I'll need to purchase some when I reach Whiterun city and note anything interesting of my travels then.

Two nights and three days (approximately) of walking, and I am resting in an inn called the Dancing Mare in Whiterun city's outskirts. Nelinn said she would meet me in the Bannered Mare, which is in the...something district. Plains district? I will need to ask the innkeep again, probably in the morning so it doesn't look like I've forgotten so quickly. This is one of the largest cities in Skyrim, apparently, and I can imagine it - it doesn't rival Evermore, I don't think, but I fear getting lost once I pass those gates.

Nothing notable happened after the bandit; no strange dreams, no animal encounters, just the occasional other traveller until I reached the farms that surround the city - they're so lush with summer, it makes my heart hurt with memory. One in particular stood out, because there was a giant standing in a fallow field and three warriors - two in some kind of dark steel with the face of a wolf at the collar of their breastplates - attempting to speak with him. The giant did not want to talk, it seemed, but when he raised his club to attack, the red-haired woman in the wolf armour put an arrow right in his eye.

I would have thought her Nelinn from the hair if she hadn't turned and spoke to me with a face and voice entirely unfamiliar. She commented on my own nocked arrow and asked if I had ever considered joining a mercenary guild. I have not, and I said so truthfully. The large dark-haired man beside her - the other in the dark armour with the wolf face - smiled at me and said I look strong. I...can't vouch for how I look; I've not cared much for mirrors since the attack. But he was the kind of man I tend toward, large and burly with kind eyes and a low voice, like how Sabah was, even if often their colouring is different from his. My heart aches again.

I have a goal, however, and I am a hunter, not a mercenary...unless these 'Companions' also hunt vampires. Then perhaps, if Nelinn has no plans, I might think about it. There's too much I don't know. I hope that when I sleep I will not dream.

Today I find the Bannered Mare and my sister. Today. I will not consider the idea that she will fail to show up again. I will not consider the idea that she will leave just a note and a meaningless gift again. I don't have anything in the way of good clothes, and I have no idea what to expect, but...I will wear something more comfortable than my armour for meeting with her. The enchanted bag that was a gift from Rosalind's strange aunt for our wedding can fit so much more than it looks like, and it holds my armour well.

She didn't come. I waited all day, it is now after dinner, and she wasn't here. I don't know if I should wait longer, or if she waited for me and gave up. She would know that I would rather walk than take a carriage, and if she's been in Skyrim for long enough she would know how long it takes to get from Falkreath to Whiterun on foot. Did she think I would hurry? Should I have? I should...I should ask Hulda, the innkeep, if a courier left a letter for me. I don't know what I will do if she will not meet me here. I have travelled so far...

There was a letter for me. Hulda said a courier brought it yesterday around noon. I fear to read it, and I wish I could say that I don't know why. There is a notable temple of Kynareth in the city; I will visit it to pray for guidance, and I will read the letter afterward when I return here to the Bannered Mare. I'll sleep here tonight no matter the news. I can afford it.

I did not feel any particular guiding hand in the temple, but it was a peace all the same. I think I will go there again tomorrow. Nelinn says in her letter that she was delayed again, but is on her way to Whiterun and will meet me in the Bannered Mare when she arrives, and she will wait three days for me if I am not there when she does. Again she does not say why she has been delayed. I...I worry.

Slept poorly with unsettling, nightmarish dreams. Perhaps I will ask the local alchemist for a potion that can help with those; after five years they're not as common as they were at first, but...I don't want to keep seeing their faces when I sleep. Not the way I last saw them. Not the way I found them. If I dream of Rosie and Sabah, Eslyn and Iyad, and the rest of my family, I want to dream of when they were alive and well. Most of the time I do, and I wake with a heart that aches for the past. I think I will spend most of today in the temple.

I made myself as useful in the temple as I could, between prayers to Kynareth, Hircine, Nimeria, and all my gods for guidance and strength. And apologies to the Lady of Winds for using her temple to speak with others. There is nothing particularly notable to speak of save that it seems the great tree in the centre of the plaza is dying and the temple priests are desperate to restore it.

I cannot bear this waiting. I cannot bear loafing around the inn and the temple with nothing defined to do and no defined time to do it. I am going to ask if the priests at the temple need help with restoring the tree.

After speaking to Danica, the high priestess of Kynareth's temple, I am now heading up past Helgen into the mountains to retrieve a knife called Nettlebane from some hagravens. I am fully aware that many, many hagravens are not like the Matriarchs of my clan-bound kin, but perhaps they can be reasoned with even so. I will leave a letter with Hulda in case Nelinn arrives before I return; it should take me no longer than a week to arrive and return, and I would not want to miss her by doing a deed for the temple.

Arrived in Helgen around noon. Resting at the inn for an hour or so before I will set out again; according to my map and the innkeep, Orphan Rock is only a few hours' walk to the east for someone who travels at a pace like mine. I should arrive there at sundown if not before.

I leave with a prayer to the Huntfather and the Spirit Queen that this will go without much bloodshed.

I have Nettlebane. The hagraven and her coven gave me no choice but to kill them, or they would kill me. I dreamed of Him. He extended a hand, a cup carved from bone full to the brim. I am of Tir Druadach, why would I ever deny such a gift? I see now that the hunter I had been was a pale shadow of what I will now grow to become.
The taste of blood lingers on my tongue and I relish in it, and the ache in my muscles from unknown strain that will be familiar soon enough. I burn with the heat of life and energy itself, though it is nothing compared to yesterday when I accepted this blessing.

I am back in Helgen's inn; I staggered into town in the pre-dawn light, and someone helped me here. I was covered in blood, and they couldn't tell how much of it was mine. But I've bathed and I've slept and I've washed my armour and cloak and everything else. I am clean once again and I have never been more alive. I look forward to seeing what shreds will become of the next vampire I encounter and slay. But first, I've another restlessness to satisfy, and the coin to pay for it. One of the lily girls plying her sumptuous wares in the inn keeps winking at me when our eyes meet.

There is more to do, it seems. Priestess Danica will not touch Nettlebane, though neither will I unless I am wearing gloves. She says I must go farther east to the Eldergleam's grotto and tap some of its sap. A pilgrim named Maurice wishes to travel with me, and I am wary to find out how that will go with my new blessing. Helgen, Riverwood, Whiterun especially are all so full of smells! I can hardly keep a handle on myself, but I would be a poor hunter indeed if I had no self-control.

Maurice is an interesting fellow. He hails from High Rock, though he refuses to say which part in particular, and he is besotted by Skyrim's landscape as a work of Kynareth and Dibella. I have so far refrained from bringing up Lorkh and Hircine's work in addition, but it may be a matter of will before I do. I have not yet determined if this man is the kind to wail about the evils of all Daedra, though...perhaps Lorkh phrased as Lorkhan could be a way to angle the shot.

I can feel from a hunger in my belly and a growling in my very bones that Secunda will be full tonight. I will need to be careful. I have already offered to keep watch all night, I just need to ensure that I am away from camp when I transform so that I do not spook him.

Eldergleam Sanctuary is gorgeous. There are absolutely other words, but I cannot think of them. Maurice does not seem to have noticed that he travels with a werewolf, and I don't know if I think he's foolish for the lack of observation or if I'm only grateful for the lack of confrontation.

We are sleeping tonight in the sanctuary, and tomorrow I begin the trek alone back to Whiterun with the sapling that Maurice...requested from the Eldergleam with some sort of Bretic druidic magic. It's a type of magic I've been long interested in, but had little opportunity to learn - things that aren't purely practical for my travels or the slaying of vampires have been low on my list of priorities. It's a pretty little thing with pink leaves, and it makes me feel at peace just to hold it, as if my many troubles and worries are held at bay. I will not be surprised if I fall asleep holding it tonight.