Author’s Note: This journal uses the character build – The Dragonborn Nord. Click the link for character background, as well as roleplaying and gameplaying specifics.
It’s been a rough week. Day in and day out I’ve walked the mountains around Riverwood, collecting all the ingredients I could … killing all the game available. For days I’ve gone up and down the river, catching fish and avoiding wolf packs. All of this only to return to Riverwood each night and sell my meager collection of pelts and flowers for bits of gold … most of which then went to the innkeep for a bed for the night.
But after days and days of hard work, I finally saved up enough gold to purchase a pair of hide boots and an old iron mace. My knuckles are sore from pounding on the ribs of elk and the skulls of wolves. The soles of my feet are raw from the wretched wraps I’ve had to wear. To put on a real pair of boots was divine, and holding the mace in my hand lifted my spirits like nothing else.
I spent the next two days venturing further and further in all directions from Riverwood, as the herds of game are becoming scarce in that area and I still need a lot of gold to outfit myself properly. This is a hard life, but I will not forget how my father died. I will right the wrong against my father.
Yesterday I came across and incredible valley. It was Mara-sent .. full of game, full of ingredients … and I even found an abandoned camp I might be able to make my new home for a while. That alone would save me 10g in expenses every day.
While exploring the valley I came across a pair of unsavory individuals late in the evening. They immediately drew their weapons and charged me. I probably wouldn’t have stood a chance against one of them, let alone two. Had it not been for my Nord-born power of battle-cry I would be dead right now. But I yelled it at them and they fled in one direction while I fled in the other.
As much as I wanted to sleep in the camp I had found, I couldn’t help but notice it had two beds and I had just encountered two very irritable persons. I decided to find a nice vantage point and keep a watch over the camp overnight to see if the vagabonds used the camp.
At dawn this morning I still hadn’t seen a single sign of them. In the middle of the night I even crept over to check the beds to make sure I hadn’t missed their arrival. But the beds were as empty in the middle of the night as they were when I approached in the morning. Apparently the camp was now mine.
I began to go through the camp and see what it had to offer. It wasn’t much, but there was some food and a pair of boots. Too bad I just bought mine! I even found a book about refugees. How ironic. There was also a big chest, but after an entire night without sleep the beds were looking more inviting. I decided at the last second to try the chest before hitting the bed, and it may have saved my life.
As I tried to open the chest I discovered it was indeed locked. I have no lockpicks, and for that matter I have no skill in picking locks either. The chest would remain shut. But that wasn’t the pressing issue. It was a shout behind me and an arrow flying past my head that became the pressing issue. It turns out the same brutes that had attempted to attack me the previous evening had just arrived back at their camp and discovered me attempting to open their chest. Not a good situation at all, especially since I had used my battle-cry power less than a day earlier.
I immediately sprinted away without looking back, zig-zag’ing up the mountainside as arrows flew past left and right. As I ran out of breath I chanced a glance behind me, but the fiends were nowhere in sight. How lucky of me to avoid death twice in such short time at the hands of the same wretches. Perhaps this is an omen that I have a greater purpose yet to serve in this world.