Looking for Home

10th of Sun Disc

I am hiding out in Riverwood for a bit. 

We departed the mill heading for Ivarsted.  Crossing the river at Mistwatch we found a small Storm Cloak camping guarding the bridge.  Lidia convinced me to leave them well enough alone.  I wonder if her loyalty to her Jarl and the Empire is that strong.  It was the 30th of Fostfall, and it was cold.  Winter is coming.

A Stormcloak there claimed to know me, and I feared that maybe he knew me from Cyrodil somehow and recognized, perhaps as the hero of Bruma or some such.  But know, it was much less complex.  He was shaking me down for gold claiming I was a thief.  I paid his five gold bounty. Better than taking his miserable life.  Another Stormcloak claimed he saw a mage of the Psijic order materialize out of thin air.  At one time I would have dismissed this, but now... it may very well be possible.

I was asked if I would deliver a message to a man named Quintus if I ever make it to Windhelm. I took the letter. 

Climbing the road toward Ivarsted with the peaks at my back we were attacked by a hungry bear.  Skinning out its carcass I looked up and noticed an estate perched on top of marvelous falls.  Could this be the ancestral estate of my grandmother's family.  I decided to detour. It took Lidia and I some to figure our way up the mountain.  The estate was wonderful but vacant. No one was home.  No family awaited me.  We spent the night in Dragon Falls and the next day journeyed downward to Ivarsted to find out about my distant family. 

We passed a cave that showed signs of some sort of evil presence.  Perhaps orcs or Falmer.  We pressed on.  Near the northeast corner of Lake Gere the road branched off.  I was tempted to see what might lay in that part of the land that such a fine road would lead to, but I maintained to my goal. 

Near the village we came across small farm with a young lady being harassed by two redguards who claim to be seeking a fugative. Lidia's and my steal encouraged them to move on their way.

So we entered Ivarsted of the Rift and my goodness what a disappointment.  It is hardly a bump in the road.  Its claim to fame is a haunted barrow.  The man who passes for mayor here all to readily gave me the deed to Dragon Falls claiming that some of the family had departed south for better conditions and the old man had died some years ago.  I wonder who this old man was?

The barrow is haunted. Couldn't find a way in.  So couldn't test Jrize's,  or whatever his name is, fire scrolls on the undead. 

The village has one other claim to fame.  I was told I could begin a jounrey of 7,000 steps to climb to the highest peak in the north.  Its is early winter.  Cold.  I'm not that stupid.

Lidia and I secured provisions and returned the Whiterun.  We arrived very late on the 5th of Sun Disc.  I sought out the blacksmith at the Skyforge for training for I had an idea for a dagger.  But I needed materials so I made a quick dash to Daystar, leaving Lidia.  I was able to secure iron form its mines and the services of the smelters.  But before I could leave another Blood Dragon attacked the town.  The garrison and I were in thick of it.  Now the know I am dragonborn, for they saw it with their own eyes, the power of the dragon come to me.

Back at the Skyforge I worked for a day to forge a dragon blade, a small dagger for my left hand.  She is sharp as anything can be.  My brother smith also taught me the art of forging ancient north blades. While I worked he sang a strange song of the forge.  I don't know but I have to wonder if there was power in it.  It spoke of the how the forge was found and no one knew is origin and how it played a key role in the founding of the hall of the Companions.  I didn't tell him of ancient legend I remembered of the great eagle forge north of the mighty northern wood elves. 

 These I went up the hill to the main hall to enchant.  Fareanger was more than willing to allow me to use his arcane device.  The nordic blade is now a drinker of souls and the daggar now a crusher of will. 

He was talkative, Faerengar.  He claimed the dragonborn can use their voice to speak the ancient words of the dragons and give form to the abilities to harness energy, impact the material world, even transform space and time.  He told me that at high Hrothgar there exists and order knowledgeable in the voice, the Graybeards.  He claimed they even trained Emperor Septim in its use, but I saw not evidence of this when he was sneaking through the sewers under the capital with the Blades shielding his life against assassins. He certainly showed no signs of it as he bled out in those dank dungeons.  Martin would never have had a chance to be trained.  Could it have made a difference if he had?  Did the graybeards, if they exist, know that Martin existed?  Surely the Blades would have known about this, but they said nothing to me and didn't seek out the Graybeards. 

Maybe more importantly Faerengar proved willing to teach me powerful new ways to harness the gift in me.  I am now more powerful and skilled in the use of lightening and cold.  I am beginning to understand the nature of cold magic.  It involves the compression of the material around, the air, the ground, whatever is at hand.  Amazing compression that forms "cold".  Mysterious.

I was tired.  Long travels.  Long hours in the forge and being taught by a mage I once would have been superior too.  I needed some time to myself, so Ieft for Riverwood.  Spent some time with Gerder and her husband Hod.  She hadn't heard anything from her brother Rolaf since he and I made our way down the pass from Helgen. 


Maybe I'll talk Faen into traveling up and talking at Helgen tomorrow.  He seemed a little put out with earlier this afternoon for running around with my new lady housecarl.