The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #10

---Last Seed, 29th, 4E 201---

  While retrieveing Odvar from Jorvaaskr, I decided to stop in and see what Farengar thought of the golden sword I found. He was unsure of its origin, remarking that it resembles the Daedric Artifact called Goldbrand, but that it cannot be, as Goldbrand has not been seen since the Great War. He thinks that it is perhaps a good replica. Its enchantment is stable, and it is sturdy, and of superior quality to my Skyforge Steel blade, so I have decided to carry it as my weapon of choice for the time being.

  On my way back down from the Cloud District I met a local girl named Lucia. She begs for food and coin in the city square, and sleeps on the floor of the Temple of Kynareth, as she has no parents. I spoke to Lydia, and she has agreed to arrange for my spare room to be outfitted as a child's room, and for Lucia to live in Breezehome under her care. Lucia is a sweet girl. Perhaps once I'm ready to settle down a bit, I'll adopt the girl properly. Odvar says that I'm quite the philanthopist, suited to the life of a Thane, but I think he's mocking me, and I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be if he weren't.

   Odvar and I rode the carriage through the night to Riften, sleeping on the way. It wasn't comfortable, but it did save time. Once here Riften became suspect immediately when the guards at the gate tried to shake us down for money, until I threatened to expose their scheme. Inside it became clear that Riften is little more than a slum with walls. It smells bad, is run behind the curtain by a preposterous group calling themselves the Thieves Guild, and the city's one wealthy family, the Black-Briars. I met a tough but beautiful Nord woman named Mjoll and her friend Aerin who agree. Mjoll is a former Adventurer who actively opposes the corruption in Riften. She and I are like-minded, and though she has yet to trust me enough to tell me why she stopped adventuring, she did agree to show me around the city, introducing me to the trustworthier citizens, and to accompany Odvar and I for a while.

  One of the places that Mjoll showed us was the local Temple of Mara, the only public building in the city that doesn't look like it's falling apart, and while there we were, as seasoned Adventurers, offerend a series of tasks by the priestess on Mara's behalf, to spread the cause of love throughout Skyrim. The tasks will not take us too far out of our way, and it is a worty cause. The first of the tasks is in nearby Ivarstead, the gateway town to the Graybeards' mountaintop. I sit here writing as the three of us prepare to set out for the town. We should be able to reach it by foot by tonight, giving me a chance to experience more of the Rift than this one depressing city. Once there I suppose that I'll have to decide once and for all what to do about the summons.

  I will also welcome Mjoll's help dispatching the Silver Hand nearby, though I must decide carefully how much to tell her of the true nature of my mission, and myself. Odvar could not be more accepting of my nature as a werebeast, but Mjoll might not be so forgiving.

  While arriving in town this morning, a dragon flew overhead. It remained just long enough to stir up the guards before it flew off toward the nearby peaks, but I'm sure, depite the morning fog, that it was not the black dragon from Helgen. That is three dragons now that I have seen in a week's time, and it concerns me. I also feel different since my transformation into a Werewolf. I enjoy the taste of raw or hardly-cooked animal meat, and I find that I am more eager to take up arms. Is my new nature doing something to my mind? If so I must strive harder to control it.



Mods Referenced in this Entry:

-Insanity's Goldbrand

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #9

---Last Seed, 28th, 4E 201---

  On the 26th of Last Seed, only two days ago, Skjor and Aela made me a Werewolf so that I might help them wipe out a legion of the Silver Hand. Initially the transformation was rough, but I recovered my head. By the time I did, however, I'd run with Aela to the fort where the Silver Hand were holed up. While Aela stayed behind to make sure I didn't harm myself or anyone else, Skjor went ahead. He fell to the Silver Hand and their skilled and powerful leader, The Skinner, before we could reach him. I tore the man's followers apart in my new beast form. In that form I am an unstoppable force, and even in my Human form I am stronger than ever. I rarely tire, and Aela tells me that I will never again have to feel the ravages of disease. I no longer have trouble controlling myself in my transformed state, either. The Silver Hand are right to be wary of the mad Werewolves which even Aela admits exist, but why do they hate the Companions so? I don't care anymore. They killed a member of my pack. They will all die for it.

  Leaving the fortress, I realized that I was near Wildhelm, and I was reminded of my reason for coming to Skyrim in the first place. My father, a half-Nord half-Imperial Officer in the Legion, and my mother, a Nord ambassador to Cyrodiil from Skyrim, were killed in the sacking of the Imperial City during the great war when I was very young. I hate the Thalmor for this, but I am no fool. I was but a boy, but even I knew at the time how close we came to losing the war. The White-Gold Concordat must last, or my parents will have died for nothing. Ulfric wants to dissolve the Concordat and renew the fight with the Thalmor. When I heard that he had murdered the High King of Skyrim, I knew he was moving toward a full-scale rebelion, and I gave up my comfortable life of exploring ruins, gathering loot, and wooing maidens with stories of my heroism to come north and try to convince him to stop. Stupid, I know, but I felt I had to try something. So I journeyed to Windhelm, stopping by the nearby Talos statue which overlooks the city. There I found a golden Akaviri sword which seems to be enchanted. Maybe it was sacreligious to do so, but I took it. It feels good to carry a light, swift blade again.

  Five minutes in Windhelm it became clear that there would be no convincing Ulfric. The first thing I saw when I stepped through the gate was a pair of Nords harassing and threatening a Dunmer woman while the guards stood by and did nothing. One of the men threatened to come to her home that night and teach her a lesson. So I broke his nose. I stayed in the city for a night, and even helped Ulfric's stuard catch a murderer who was trying to construct a Flesh Golem from parts of local girls, and I built a rapport with some of the Dunmer, who are forced by Ulfric and his guards to live in an unkept slum. Despite this, however, I don't intend to ever return to Windhelm while Ulfric sits on the throne, if I can help it. Even now I camp just outside the city walls.

  Tomorrow I take the carriage to Whiterun to get Odvar, if Ria has not killed him to prevent his constant advances, and then to Riften. Aela found clues in the fortress that the Silver Hand have a stronghold in The Rift as well. I'll kill them all, for Skjor.

 

 



Mods Referenced in this Entry:

 -In this entry I mention a weapon mod, Insanity's Goldbrand, which adds a lore weapon to the game that would not otherwise be present. In the lore, this weapon was supposedly last wielded by a soldier in the Imperial army, so I thought that it would make sense if the Dragonborn found it near a Shrine of Talos. This is also a reference to an older Goldbrand mod which has since disappeared from Steam and the Nexus.

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #8

---Last Seed, 25th, 4E 201---

  Nordic ruins may not be as rich in valuables as the ruins back home in Cyrodiil, but between the random gems and ores found so far during my journeys in Skyrim, the money I have earned from the Companions, and the money I recieved selling the Silver Hand's equipment, I have earned enough to afford the home available in Whiterun, and even furnish it modestly. It is a quaint little stead called Breezehome. I have turned over maintainance of the property to my housecarl Lydia.

  I was given another job by the other Companions today, one which I, as a Thane, was uniquely equipped to handle. Rorik, of nearby Rorikstead, was dragged away from the outskirts of the city earlier today by a pair of Falmer! That's right, the stories of the deformed decendants of the Snow Elves of old are actually true. I was the only Companion who could be spared, but as a Thane I had access to Lydia, and to a modest few town guards. And to Odvar, of course. The six of us were able to get Rorik back unharmed from the Falmer den in Shimmermist Cave north of Whiterun. There were far more than two Falmer in the cave, however. Enough to justify an order to organize the guard and clear out the cave while Odvar and I returned Rorik home.

  I sit here writing this in the local tavern in Rorikstead, the Frostfruit Inn. The town is nice. I might take some time to look around tomorrow before returning to Whiterun for my bounty.

 



Mods Mentioned in this Entry:

-UFO - Ultimate Follower Overhaul (for the mention of recruiting town guards)

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #7

---Last Seed, 24th, 4E 201---

  I write this early in the morning. Farkas and I fought all through the night at Dustman's Cairn. It turns out that Farkas and the other members of the Companions' inner Circle are Werewolves! Not the mindless and insane supernatural beasts that you hear stories about, but men who can become powerful beasts, yet retain their faculties. I must admit that I find such a thing appealing. Farkas used the form of the beast to defeat a group of five warriors of the Silver Hand, who seem to be Werewolf hunters at war with the Companions in secret.

  The Silver Hand were strong and well equipped. I found myself often shooting around corners, healing myself, and even summoning the more taxing of my conjurable creatures, the Flame Atronach that I affectionately call "Betti". As always she fought hard for me, but left me with little Magika after each summons.

  Farkas and I are exhausted. We have set up camp off of the road and plan to trade watches until tomorrow morning, the 25th, when we will head back to Whiterun. I have brought food enough for both of us, and there is a stream nearby for water. If anything, I'm worried about another attack by the Silver Hand.

  In my pack I have the fragment of Wuthraad, but that is not all that I received in the halls of the ancient barrow. Deep within I discovered another of the etched walls, and received power from it as I did the wall in Bleak Falls. In my mind I see a word, "Yol", but I know not what it means. I do, however, recall the dragon at the watchtower saying it when he spat fire, and since defeating that dragon, I understand that the power of the walls comes in the form of words, and I understand the word I learned from the first wall, "Fus", which means force. Must I kill another dragon to glean understanding of this new power as well?

  Where did these walls come from? What do they have to do with my emerging powers as the Dragonborn? Farkas cares not, and offers no opinion. He is a man of actions, not words. There may be, in fact, no answer to these questions that has withstood the test of time, but if answers do exist, I'd like to find them. Perhaps the Greybeards have the answers? Am I ready to answer their summons? I do not know.

  I also find myself reflecting on the final battle in the Cairn between Farkas and I and a group of upwards of twenty undead, in the room with the Word Wall. Never before have I fought so many at once, and yet I found that I enjoyed the thrill. I blame my Nord blood.

 

Mods Mentioned in this Entry:

-N/A



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #6

---Last Seed, 22nd, 4E 201---

  I did not leave for the fragment today with Vilkas (or was it Farkas? One day I will stop mixing up those two) as I had planned. Instead I spent the morning crafting a tent for myself, and working further on my conjured chest spell, which I can now safely use to store items in a pocket of Aetherius. I'm quite impressed with it, even if Odvar finds the idea of a spell dedicated only to loot storage ridiculous. I enchanted some of my gear to resist fire, and did some additional enchanting, creating items to sell to the wizard. My pockets are now heavy with almost one thousand Septims.

  I would have had a more productive day still, but I met a lovely Altmer woman named Eldawyn who has much the same attitude about things as myself. We talked of her love of wine, so I bought us a bottle. She told me tales of her friends: four like-minded mages who used to journey with her, collecting the resources to craft jewelery, which would then be enchanted and sold for a profit. She told me the stories of their deaths, and even shed a tear over the loss of one: a Nord man who clearly still hold her heart, proving that the current aggression between the High Elves and the Nords does indeed have a chance at a peaceful resolution.

  I had hoped that Eldawyn might accompany Odvar and I on out journeys, but she is not yet ready to be part of a party again. She gave me a gift, however, of an unforgettable conversation, and a re-definition of my priorities. I no longer seek to conquer Aela, or any other maiden. After talking with Eldawyn such persuits seem hollow. I want what she shared with her Nord companion: a bond of true love that will last beyond death. Maybe I'll forge such a bond during my time here in Skyrim, making all that I have gone through so far worth the pain.

 

Mods Mentioned in this Entry:

-Odvar the Afflicted

-Conjurable Chest Spell

-Interesting NPC's



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #5

---Last Seed, 21nd, 4E 201---

  Today, at the shrine of Kynareth, I met one of the infamous Afflicted, a Nord named Odvar. He had come to Whiterun hoping for a cure for the condition, which has turned his skin orange-red and leathery, a condition which I know from my readings on Restoration is not readily contagious, despite the common misconception. Whiterun, however, has no cure for him, and so he offered to accompany me on the road, an offer which I welcome.

  After the shrine, I stopped in at Jorvaskr to let the Companions know that I completed my quest against the Bandits of Amber Guard. I was paid, and the scary one, Skjor, assigned me and Vilkas (or was it his brother, Farkas?) a new task, to recover a fragment of Wuthraad, the axe wielded by the ancient founder of the Companions, Ysgramor. I told Farkas that we would have to wait to set out. I still had to deliver the Stone to the Jarl's wizard. With Odvar at my side I climbed the stairs to Dragonsreach, and to my surprise, the innkeeper from Riverwood was there, talking to the court wizard about dragons! She was heavily disguised, but I'm sure it was her. Of course this is none of my business, so I said nothing, and she left in a hurry when the Dunmer housecarl came into the room with a message.

  The dragon was nearby, attacking the Western Watchtower.

  The Dunmer woman, Irileth, took Odvar and I to see the Jarl. I was awarded a pair of fire resistant boots, and Odvar and I were asked to join the guard in slaying the beast. I was reluctant, but Odvar seemed excited by the prospect. The fight was long, taking several hours, but finally the dragon fell when I of all people struck the final blow, and its soul poured into me.

  The guards, the Jarl, and even the reclusive Graybeards, it would seem, now believe me to be Dragonborn, like Talos of old, simply because I found that when I speak the word "fus", things are pushed away from me. The Graybeards have summoned me to their mountain. I know not why, but I don't think I'll be going quite yet. I need to enchant my gear against fire and temper my weapons and armor, and maybe practice my skills first, for I know something that the others don't as of yet.

  That was a different dragon.

  It is obvious now that the dragons, plural, are returning, and if I am Dragonborn, I'm sure that fate will expect me to play a part in stopping them and preventing another Dragon War. I must be ready. I don't want this responsibility, but if I must shoulder it, I will.

  The Jarl has made me a Thane and offered me a chance to purchase land, but I do not have the money, so once again I sleep on a cot in Jorvaskr. I will head out with Vilkas (or was it Farkas?) tomorrow to find this fragment. Maybe I'll try again tonight to woo Aela. Odvar has made progress with Ria, despite his condition, so you would think that I could find success as well, but Aela is headstrong. Of course that's half the fun.

 

Mods Referenced in the Entry:

-Odvar the Afflicted
-Amber Guard again



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #4

---Last Seed, 20st, 4E 201---

  Today was uneventful. Thank to Camilla Valerius I slept far too little last night, and got a late start to Amber Guard. Once there defeating the Bandits was as simple as using the terrain against them. Their leader, a hearty Nord with an Orcish Axe, was the only strong opponent amongst them. I used almost every healing potion that I've managed to collect since coming to Skyrim, and my own magic, to survive the fight. I also still feel weak, as if from disease. I saw a chapel of Kynareth in Whiterun. I'll sleep here in the ruins of Amber Guard, in the Bandit den, tonight, and pray my health back at the shrine when I return to town tomorrow.

  Is this my life now? A fetcher and bounty hunter?

Mods Referenced in the Entry:
-The Elder Scrolls: Places (for a third time)



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #3

---Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201---

  When I said that yesterday was my longest, I was wrong. Today was worse. I chose to head straight to Bleak Falls and save the Bandit bounty in Amber Guard for another day, and I'm glad I did. On my way to Bleak Falls Barrow, I encountered a group of three Bandits in a half-ruined tower and dispatched with them easily. Feeling confident, I marched right up to the Barrow further up the mountain and found myself dodging arrows. If not for the help of my conjured wolf, I never would have overcome them, and little did I know that they would be the least of my worries. Inside were a few more Bandits, and then, in a large, web-filled chamber, their leader was strung up by a spider even larger than the ones in the cave in Helgen. I almost turned and ran, and if not for my conjured bow I never could have fought it at all, but I did fight, and I won, freed the Bandit, defeated him, and retrieved the claw for Lucen in Riverwood.

  Now, of course, I had yet to find the stone for the wizard, and the Bandit leader said something about a secret of the claw, so I decided to explore the Barrow further. I assumed that, because the Spider had been guarding this entry into the deeper burial chambers, that there would be nothing further down, but I was sadly mistaken. On our walk from the Helgen caves to Riverwood, Hadvar mentioned that he, as a child, was afraid of the Barrow on the mountain, and the undead Draugr that lurk within.

  He's right to be afraid.

  The Draugr appeared in various states of decay from alcoves in the walls, and coffins lining the floors. They possessed various rusty-yet-durable weapons, and varying degrees of magical powers. One could even shout magic from his throat like Tiber Septim, or Ulfric when he murdered the High King earlier this year! I fought waves of them, ducking through traps and crossing ancient, crumbling ledges as I moved deeper and deeper in, and yet I saw nothing of a stone or a secret...

  ...Until I found the door.

  Three embedded stone rings made a combination lock, which could be deciphered via a pattern on the Golden Claw, and then the Claw was used as a key to loose the door and cause it to drop into the floor. Behind it was a massive natural chamber and a curved wall with ancient glyphs on it, a block of them burning blue. I was drawn to the wall, my ears filled with sounds of chanting in a language that I barely couldn't understand, filling my head with the sound of a single word, "fus", which echoes there even now. I blacked out for a moment, and heard the sound of a lid flung loose of another coffin in the same chamber. In my stupor I'd failed to notice it just behind me.

  From the coffin arose another Draugr, wielding a sword that steamed with an ice enchantment, the Dragon Stone strung to its back. I fought it sword to sword and was quickly outmatched, so I summoned my wolf and backed away, found a good vantage point, and attacked with my Bound Bow until I'd managed to even the odds. Even so my rudimentary skill in Restoration was instrumental in my survival. In only a few minutes I had the Claw and the Stone, and I was on my way back out of the Barrow through a side cavern. I was back in Riverwood by midnight.

    I sit here in the Sleeping Giant Inn, in the same seat in which I sat when I wrote the first entry in this journal. I'm tired, my heart is only now slowing back to its usual rhythm, and I'm eating a bowl of fish soup prepared by the barkeep, because he says its a home remedy for the Ataxia that I've contracted from a Skeever bite. I need to take my mind off of this new, nightmarish life that has found me. The pretty girl who works the shop with Lucen is here. Maybe I'll see if she'd like to provide a distraction.

  Tomorrow I'll return the Claw, and then head early to Amber Guard to fulfill the bounty for the Companions. After a spider the size of house and killer undead, Bandits no longer worry me. It will also give me a chance to try out my new Ice Sword.

  P.S. The inn isn't offering any beds. The inn-keeper is out. I wonder where she went?

Mods Referenced in the Entry:
-The Elder Scrolls: Places (again)

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #2

Another Last Dragonborn entry for my readers (or reader, rather, though that's still assuming a lot), since I can't think of anything else to post.

---Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201---

  Today might just be the longest day I can remember. I worked all morning at Alvor's forge, with his help, and the help of his daughter Dorthe, who already thinks of me as an uncle. We managed to piece together some Iron Gauntlets and Boots to go with my Helm, and to reinforce an old Scaled Curias. Between that and a Steel Sword that Alvor was kind enough to give me from his stores, and my basic ability to conjure bound weapons, I felt confident enough to set out along the road to Whiterun. Though there were no dangers along the road, I did help a group of warriors fell a Giant on a farm outside the grand, if rustic, city.

  After the battle a beautiful ranger, Aela the Huntress, complimented me and suggested that I join their guild, the Companions. So after informing the Jarl and his angry Dunmer housecarl of the dragon threat, I did, if only for a bed and a chance at getting closer to Aela. Joining was no simple task, though, as it required fighting a burly man to prove myself, while I was already tired from travel and from a brawl earlier with an impetuous Bard who seems unable to take no as an answer from a particular local woman.

  The Jarl gave me a new task. His court wizard needs a stone from a nearby ruin, one upon which may be inscribed insight into the dragon. He cannot spare his own men and I have already proven myself capable, and he has promised to reward me. This works to my benefit, as the proprietor of the general store in Riverwood also mentioned the ruin, Bleak Falls Burrow, as the likely location of a golden dragon claw which was stolen from him only days ago. Perhaps I can recover the claw as well, make some coin, and get on with my life. I did come to Skyrim for a reason, after all.

  The Companions have also assigned me a task. They want me to clear out a nest of bandits in nearby Amber Guard. It is out of my way, but perhaps I will stop by Amber Guard in the morning on my way to the ruin. I am hesitant, however, to take on these Bandits alone. I am confident in my skills, but I think maybe I have become too accustomed to fighting in full steel, with my swift and sharp single-edged Argonian Blade. Can I rout a den on Bandits equipped as I am now?

  Experienced as I am, I am nothing special, just a boy who thrives on slaying monsters and wooing maidens, and yet so much has happened, and so much responsibility has been heaped upon my shoulders. I cannot decide. I will set out tomorrow morning and let my legs take me where they will.

Mods Referenced in this Entry:
-Jaysus Swords
-Dragonborn Armor (Steam Workshop Mod)
-The Elder Scrolls: Places - Amber Guard (Steam Workshop Mod)
-Realistic Needs and Diseases (for the line about being tired)

If you liked the entry or if you have any questions or general comments, please leave a comment below, and thanks for reading.

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #1

I promised a while ago that I would begin posting the entries written by my Skyrim character, my version of the Dragonborn Hero, Johan Abbot, who I play as when I'm in the game. Anyone who already knows and enjoys Skyrim will recognize the storyline as the storyline and quests of the game, but I do play with game mods, so there will be characters and elements to my story that are not part of the main game, and I do try to improve characterization of non-player characters by interpreting how I think they will respond to elements of Johan's personal story. Anyone who does not already know Skyrim will, hopefully, enjoy this story as a piece of fiction set in that world, and maybe even develop an appreciation for what I think is one of the best single-player role playing games of all time.

---Last Seed, 17th, 4E 201---

  These last few days have been unbelievable. I sit here in this inn in the quaint little milling town of Riverwood, in Skyrim, taking in a stiff drink before heading across the way to the bed offered by a helpful ally. A bed which is the only thing that I have in the world, aside from some clothes and some food offered me by the same kind man. Alvor of Riverwood, on the word of his nephew Hadvar, has all but accepted me into his family, and I am thankful, for if it were not for his kindness I don't know if I could remain grounded enough at this point to hold on to my sanity. Believe it or not, this morning I was sent to the executioner's block, and I was saved by a dragon.

  You are wondering now if perhaps my sanity has slipped from me after all, and frankly I do not care if anyone who might read this journal believes me or not: it happened, it is the truth. While crossing the boarder from Cyrodiil into Skyrim, across the Jerall mountians, I accidentally fell into a trap set for a group of Stormcloak rebels by the Legion posted here in Skyrim, and I was mistaken for one of their ranks and taken with the rest to Helgen for execution. I thought my fate sealed, my head resting and waiting upon the block for the bite of the headsman's axe when the dragon landed upon the city central tower, creating turmoil enough for me to escape, with Hadvar's help.

  With the middle-aged Nord officer at my side, I fought my way through the city keep, which was being torn apart from the outside in all the while, and made my way, at Hadvar's advice, into a series of caves below the city that were the only remaining chance of escape. While I fought well enough against Stormcloaks who had found there way inside the keep likewise, I failed to be of much help in one chamber, against a group of enormous spiders which scared me stiff, I'm ashamed to admit, but I think I managed to redeem myself. In the next chamber I found a Horned Iron Helm and wore it into battle against a large bear which would have barred our way.

  I don't know what to do from here. I came to my ancestral homeland with all of the spoils of my many years of adventures back home, and now I sit here in gifted clothing, drinking mead bought with the gold earned from selling the cloaks collected from fallen soldiers. I have been asked by Alvor to make my way to Whiterun, the region capital, and let them know of the dragon attack, and I am more than happy to ablige, but I have no good armor, and only a worn Iron Sword and Shield for protection. Alvor himself is a blacksmith. Perhaps tomorrow he and I can piece together some armor for me to wear at least, and I can set out on my way.

 

 

There is one mod referenced in this entry, Cloaks of Skyrim, which adds cloaks to Skyrim (obviously). Normally, after each entry, I will list any mods that are referenced in the entry down here so that players of the game will not wonder why there is an element to the world of which they are unfamiliar.

If you liked the entry or if you have any questions or general comments, please leave a comment below, and thanks for reading.