The Journal of Sjvorn Torbikssen

Fredas, 5th of Last Seed

My dear Ledda has been dead and buried these past six months, but I still struggle to get up the energy to care for the livestock and fields. This homestead was her dream, but one I was willing to share as she made the mundane bearable. Today, I found my father’s old armor in the chest in the attic. He had been a soldier in his youth and used to tell us tales of fighting bandits for the Jarl. When I was younger I was going to enlist as well. But then Ledda happened. And now she’s gone.

Looking down at this armor, I can fell my old dreams surging back to life. I’m still in my prime, despite being a widower. And there is nothing for me here. When I pick up his sword, it feels heavy in my hand. Not from the weight of the steal – I’ve been plowing and chopping wood for years now – more from the weight of dreams. I hear that Jarl Ulfric is looking for strong Nords to help him defeat the imperials. I’ve decided. Tomorrow morning I will leave and cross the mountains toward Windhelm. My destiny is calling.

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Momdas, 8th of Last Seed

I’m lost in these mountains, completely turned around. Leaving the path seemed the right thing to do when the sky was blue and sunny. Now it’s grey and has begun snow. Turning everything in a grey mist. It all looks the same from here and now I’m running low on supplies. If I don’t find civilization soon, this break may be my last.

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Momdas, 8th of Last Seed – Evening

Never have I been so happy to see the thatched roofs of civilization! After my noon rest, I ran across some interesting ruins in the mountains and hoped someone might be around who could point me towards Windhelm. Someone was around much to my dismay. I walked right into yeti territory. I ran out of those ruins as fast as possible and didn’t pay attention to my direction except to avoid trees and keep out of reach of the yetis. That’s when I spied the road and, even better, the roofs of a small village. Morthal.

The innkeeper was happy to take my few gold coins for food and shelter. She also pointed me in the direction of the local shop which had a map of the region. I am down to my last few coins after buying that. But I’ve learned my lesson. Never travel without a map. I don’t even have enough coin for a decent bottle of mead, but I will be able to continue my journey. There’s a road leads from here, through Dawnstar and then down to Windhelm. Although that would be warmer to travel the southern path, that way is longer. I think this route is my best bet. I’ll have to cross the mountains, but it can’t be worse than yetis.

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Tirdas, 9th of Last Seed – Noon

Even the roads are not completely safe. Bandits had attacked a cart on the road, and I was unlucky enough to come upon them while they were still looting the cart. I hid in the bushes until they went on their way. Poor travelers. Somehow the bandits failed to find a fine double-bladed iron axe. It is a heavy weapon, but I find it far superior to my father’s worn sword. I’m not sentimental to hold onto heirlooms. It never felt right with the sword and shield. Both felt clumsy in my hands. An axe I can get behind, it feels like it was made for me. How did the bandits fail to find it? It must be a gift from Talos.

I mentioned the bitter cold, right? By the time I found the village of Dawnstar I was thoroughly frozen. This far North the land is even colder than I expected. I decided to stop at this inn, there’s nothing like a full tankard of mead when your half froze. Once I’m done though, I’m going to press on. Looking at my map, I think if I keep at this pace, I should make Windhelm by dusk.
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Nope, I just tried to leave, there’s a blizzard out there. We’re all inn-bound till it blows over. I’m not eager to stay the night though, everyone here speaks of nightmares and lost sleep. I guess I’ll order another mead and wait it out. They say it should blow through fast.

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About the Sons and Daughters of Skyrim: This series will be looking a the civil war from both the Stormcloaks and the Imperial sides. When they die, their story – their journal, is over. More on the table of contents.

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