The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot Update

This is a sad day for me that I must post that Johan Abbot, my take on the character of the Dragonborn, from Skyrim, named for my old DnD character, will not get a chance to finish his story. I had been getting a lot of crashes on his save files, and even after cleaning the saves and reinstalling my game, the problems persist. I may be able to muddle through at some point in the future and finish the playthough, especially if new and better performance-improving mods are released in the future, but for now I am moving on.

I have more journal entries to post, so the story isn't over yet, but I also have something new planned. I will be doing a Let's Play of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion featuring a character named Meline Belerd, a would-be instructor of Battle Magic for one of the Breton factions in the land of High Rock. She has been sent on sabbatical to learn more of her craft, a task which her government considers very important, as the instruction of Battle Mages is important to the civil war efforts in High Rock, but Meline is a scatterbrained girl and rather than ending up in the Summerset Isles where she was aiming to go, she ends up in Cyrodiil, where she loses track of her purpose and ends up on a grand adventure. Perhaps this is fate? Perhaps this silly girl has some purpose in this place.

I plan to make an episode at some point today, and the first journal entry, which will be in video form, will be up after that, maybe a day or so after, so look forward to it. To see the Let's Play, head to AJ22 Plays on YouTube. I think it will be a lot of fun. Until then, though, have a good one.

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #25

---Heartfire, 27th, 4E 201---

  On the morning of the twenty-fifth of Hearthfire, forty-eight hours ago now, I handed over all essential gear to the Bosmer, Melbourne, and then met with Delphine at the Solitude stables outside of the farm down the hill from the city. She provided me with clothes and an invitation for the party, and took the rest of my gear with her back to the Sleeping Giant in Riverwood. I boarded a cart, and in less than two hours I was outside the Thalmor embassy. There were several Jarls there, most of them basking in Thalmor "hospitality", except my friend from Morthal, Idgrod Ravencrone, who used her "mad old woman" act to cause a diversion during which Melbourne and I were able to slip into the Embassy proper.

  The infiltration went as well as could be expected. I was made within minutes, but I made short work of the Thalmor who spotted me and moved on. Unable to find any documents in the main Embassy building, I decided to make my way across the courtyard to the interior building where the quarters are housed. Betti, Luci and I battled several Thalmor Wizards outside, and defeated three Thalmor agents inside, the second building. It was a hard fight. Each Wizard could also conjure a creature. Eventually, however, I was able to move freely through the second building. I discovered two Dossiers which were quite interesting.

  One was on Delphine. It turns out that she was one of the top Blades agents in Thalmor-controlled regions before the War, and has avoided assassination more than once, killing an entire squad on one occasion. I should remind myself to never get on her bad side. The second dossier was on Ulfric. It calls him a dormant, uncooperative Thalmor asset and goes into detail regarding the Thalmor's hopes that they can soon reestablish direct contact with him, and how they wish for the civil war to continue. The dossier called the Great War the First War with the Empire, confirming my belief that the Thalmor plan to resume hostilities. It also mentioned that the Thalmor presense at Helgen on the night of the dragon attack was to prevent Ulfric's execution, not to witness it. At first I thought that this would lead to confirmation of the Thalmor involvement with the return of the dragons, but it went on to say that the appearence of the dragon was a coincidence.

  From there I began to search for a way out of the Embassy. My search led me to a torture chamber below the living quarters. There I found another dossier on a man named Esbern, another escaped Blades agent who was well known as an expert on dragon lore. It would seem that the Thalmor suspect that the Blades are behind the dragon. Ironic. From a prisoner freed from one of the cells, I learned that the Thalmor believe Esbern to be in Riften. Having learned all that I could the prisoner, Melbourne (now actively on the run from the Thalmor as well) and I dropped through a trap door in the torture room into a reeking cave that led onto a road north of the Embassy itself.

  From there the three of us went our separate ways. I met up with Mjoll, Odvar, Barbas and Meeko, who had heard my struggle in the courtyard and stormed the Embassy. Thankfully they all survived with only minor wounds. Quickly we ran down the road to Dragonbridge.

  Yesterday the five of us took a carriage to Riverwood. We arrived very early this morning and found Delphine waiting up for us. I told her everything that I'd learned, and she was shocked to learn that Esbern still lives. She asked me to meet with a man named Brynjolf in Riften, a member of the Thieves Guild, who can direct me to where Esbern might be hiding in the Ratway beneath the city. She gave me a phrase to speak to Esbern to earn his trust. I am to bring him back to Riverwood so that he and Delphine can pool their knowledge and figure out where to go from here.

  I'm intrigued by this old Blade, who Delphine calls a crazy old man, and despite the fact that seeking him out takes me back to Riften, before I have completed my latest task for Mara, I look forward to finding him. Mjoll agrees. She finds the intrigue of the Blades appealing. Odvar and Barbas, predictably, don't seem to care much one way or another.

  I have also finally replied to a letter I recieved via courier nearly a week ago now regarding a Dunmer fugitive on the run in Skyrim. I met with a representative of what remains of the old Dark Elf clan of House Hlaalu. He's asked me to visit Little Vivec a little ways west of here and see if I can turn up any leads. Perhaps on my way to Riften I will circle around to the small Dunmer settlement and see what I can find.

---Heartfire, 28th, 4E 201---

  Yesterday the five of us took a carriage to Riverwood. We arrived early this morning and found Delphine waiting up for us. I told her everything that I'd learned, and she was shocked to learn that Esbern still lives. She asked me to meet with a man named Brynjolf in Riften, a member of the Thieves Guild, who can direct me to where Esbern might be hiding in the Ratway. She gave me a phrase to speak to Esbern to earn his trust. I am to bring him back to Riverwood so that he and Delphine can pool their knowledge and figure out where to go from here.

  I'm intrigued by this old Blade, who Delphine calls a crazy old man, and despite the fact that seeking him out takes me back to Riften, before I have completed my latest task for Mara, I look forward to finding him. Mjoll agrees. She finds the intrigue of the Blades apealing. Odvar and Barbas, predictably, don't seem to care much one way or another.

  I have also finally replied to a letter I recieved via courier nearly a week ago now regarding a Dunmer fugitive on the run in Skyrim. I met with a representative of what remains of the old House Hlaalu. He's asked me to visit Little Vivec a little ways west of here and see if I can turn up any leads. Perhaps on my way to Riften I will circle around to the small Dunmer settlement and see what I can find. 

---Heartfire, 29th, 4E 201---

  This morning I made my way out of Riverwood, deciding to head to Little Vivec and investigate the claims of a dangerous fugitive in Skyrin. I spoke first to Selyse, the owner of the only shop in the small Dunmer town on the water. She refused to give me information, choosing to respect the privacy of her customers (an honorable, if frustrating, attribute), but she did indicate that a powerful man had come through recently. She directed me to the unofficial leader of the comunity, the hunter Bel-Ran.

  Bel-Ran also revealed nothing, but he did ask me to look into a Bandit tribe holed up nearby at Moss Creek Camp which had been giving the town trouble. I agreed to defeat these Bandits in the hopes that Bel-Ran would, upon my return, be more forthcoming. After trekking across Falkreath Hold to the camp, however, I found my job already done. After ducking out of site of a disembarking dragon, my party and I made our way into the camp and found all of the Bandits dead. I expected that they had been killed by the dragon, as their deaths had seemingly come swiftly, and their treasure had been left behind, but only three of them seemed to have succumbed to dragon attack, while the rest had clearly been struck down by weapons.

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #24

---Heartfire, 23rd, 4E 201---

  Today was rather routine, all things considered. We rode into Whiterun in the early evening. I checked that Lucia had returned safely from the wedding in Riften, and then turned in a bounty at Dragonsreach. Then the five of us left immediately for Riverwood to meet with Delphine once again. I feel bad for leaving Lucia alone with Lydia so often. Once this dragon crisis is over, if it ever is over, I will be sure to spend some time with the girl.

  In Riverwood, Delphine explained that she wants me to infiltrate the Thalmor embassy north of Solitude in the guise of a guest. I will have a real invitation, but I will have to go in minimally equipped and without my party. Not only that, but the plan that Delphine has concocted hinges on the help of a Wood Elf named Melbourne who she has implied is not experienced in such behavior, though I suppose I am not either. I wanted to protest to the plan, to point out its many flaws, but my childhood desire to become a member of the Blades seems consistently able to override my judgment.

  Mjoll supports me. Her support is complete and wholehearted, but I still must wonder if her willingness to follow is her's alone, or if her feelings cloud her judgment. I know that if the situation were reversed, mine would. Do I have the right to take her with me into danger? Do I have the right to tell her not to if it is what she desires? I will die if she comes to lasting harm because of me.

  Barbas and Odvar still follow me as well, despite the escalating situation. I worry about Odvar. His barely-disguised detest for his condition causes him to be reckless. No matter how skilled he is with Alteration spells, he is not invincible. Barbas, however, may be. I have seen him take direct hits from bears, wolves, Bandits, and dragons and suffer no harm. He I will drag to the ends of Nirn, if only to stand him between myself and any oncoming arrows.
 

---Heartfire, 24th, 4E 201---

  This morning was spent doing some crafting. I improved Mjoll's armor a bit. Once I am able to get my hands on a few more decent soul gems, I plan to enchant it, as well. Odvar can protect himself with his alteration magic, but Mjoll is completely dependent on her armor and her blade for protection. The least I can do is make sure her armor is good enough to withstand a dragon's full flame.

  Afterward, we took the cart to Solitude, as the party at the embassy is tomorrow, and we, therefor, do not have time to waste traveling on foot. We are all on edge. Only I can enter the embassy, but Mjoll and even the aloof Odvar wish to find a way to accompany me. The best I could do to calm them was to agree that they should wait near the embassy, and move in to attack should they notice any problems from the outside. Hopefully they will have no cause to act at all.

  Melbourne is likely already here in the Winking Skeever, but I need my rest. I will find and meet with him in the morning. Until then I find comfort for my nerves in Mjoll's arms.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #23

--Heartfire, 22nd, 4E 201---

  After an hour in town trading, we set off from Windhelm toward Kynesgrove. There we met a local woman making way from the town, as a dragon had appeared and was attacking further up the foothill, near the old dragon mound. My party and I ran quickly past the small settlement and found Delphine waiting, watching the beast as it hovered overhead. It was him, the black dragon from Helgen. I conjured my bow and opened fire, but he ignored me and breathed on the burial mound below him. Suddenly a dragon skeleton rose from the ground and became coated in new flesh. The dragons spoke briefly before the black dragon flew away. In those moments I thought that I heard the resurrected dragon call the black dragon Alduin. I hope I was mistaken, for obvious reasons.

  With Delphine at our sides, we made relatively quick work of the resurrected dragon. During the battle I learned that I have grown strong enough now to conjure two Atronachs at once, and possibly even more familiars, should I ever try. I have decided to call my second flame Atronach Luci. Once I absorbed the dragon's soul, Delphine finally admitted that I must be Dragonborn. It is a title that I never wanted, yet I find myself filling with pride whenever I hear it spoken.

  Dephine voiced her suspicions, that the Thalmor are somehow behind the return of the dragons. I'm not sure that I share her suspicion, but we must know for sure. I am to meet the old Blade in Riverwood as soon as I can to discuss our next move.

  From Kynesgrove I was able to spot another dragon circling a plateau nearby to the south. Not wanting the town to become threatened again, the five of us made haste to its lair and felled it as well, with the help of some friendly local giants. I claimed the power to breath ice from the Word Wall that it guarded. From there we continued south to nearby Darkwater Crossing and caught a carriage to Ivarstead. Though we arrived late, we were able to climb the mountain to High Hrothgar before needing to rest any more than what the cart ride provided.

  I gave the Horn to the Greybeard, Arngier, and he and the others rewarded me with the final word of Unrelenting Force. Now I can send men flying through the air, rather than simply stagger them. My power only continues to grow. Then the Graybeards assaulted me with the full force of their voices, inducting me honorarily into their order. We sleep here tonight and continue on our way in the morning.

  Just as I begin my new life with Mjoll, my life becomes even more complicated. My love does not seem to mind, but I have to wonder if I am being selfish by dragging her into this. I am dragonborn. This quest is my responsibility and no one else's. I also worry that, if I heard that dragon correctly, that my quest might have been doomed from the start. After all, no one can stand against the end of time.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #22

---Heartfire, 20th, 4E 201---

  I had planned to stop in Riften no longer than to restock supplies and tell the priests and priestesses at the temple of Mara that I had completed another task for the divine, before making way on foot to Ivarstead and then up the Throat to High Hrothgar, but I was given another task from Mara, and to complete it I was handed an Amulet of Mara. As soon as the amulet touched my hand, I had a realization. The final task given by Mara was to help two dead lovers find each other again in eternity. looking across the room at Mjoll, I realized that I wanted to spend my eternity with her. I walked over to her where she stood waiting for me, and put the amulet around my neck. Mjoll accepted my proposal. Never have I felt so terrified and relieved and excited all at once. We wed tomorrow. So recently I had no desire to marry, but now I'm sure: I want to spend as much time as I can with this woman. I love her.

  Rather than travel to High Hrothgar before meeting with Delphine, we will say our vows tomorrow, celebrate our union, and then take the carriage over night to Windhelm. Then, morning after next, we will travel to Kynesgrove, we will learn if Delphine is correct, if the dragons are rising from the dead, and I will prove my identity as the Dragonborn to her. Then the following day we will meet with the Graybeards and I will give them the Horn. For this reason Mjoll and I will treat tonight as our wedding night.

---Heartfire, 21st, 4E 201---

  We were wed this morning. My heart beat so fast that I thought that it would fly from my chest as I told Mjoll with more honesty than I have ever mustered before, that I would stay by her side forever. Mjoll promised the same, and I kissed her. We made plans for her to live in Riverwood with me. Many of the people who we have helped throughout Skyrim came by cart for the wedding, including Lucia, with Lydia at her side. I apologized to Lucia for being away for so long, and introduced her to her new mother. Then I kept my promise to the girl and walked with her to Honor Hall Orphanage down the street and made my adoption of her official in the eyes of the Empire.

  Back in the local inn, I promised the Argonian barkeepers to find the gemstones that they need to make a traditional wedding ring, as they have no money to buy the stones, or time to go out looking themselves. Then Mjoll and I celebrated. We drank, fought, and made love, and now we set out with Odvar, Barbas and Meeko still at our sides for Windhelm, and the next leg of our journey. We should be in Kynesgrove by noon tomorrow.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #21

---Heartfire, 19th, 4E 201---

  I am glad that I decided to bring the dog, Meeko, with me. He is a well-trained hunting dog able to fell anything from Elk to Wolves. It was truly a blessing to have him at my side this morning while hunting game for their pelts, which I then crafted into simple armor for sale to Warmaiden's in Whiterun. It took until three in the afternoon to use up my stock, at which time I returned to Aela to inform her of my latest victory over the Silver Hand. She told me to keep my voice down: Harbinger Kodlak had come to hear of our vendetta.

  I met with the man, and he ordered the vendetta to stop. Then he told me the true tale of how the Companions became werewolves: that they were not gifted the power by Hircine, but cursed with it by a coven of witches in his service, and that any Nord with the beast blood is robbed of their chance to go to the halls of Sovrngarde upon death and instead swept away to Hircine's eternal hunting grounds. While Aela would surely relish this, the aging warrior is of a different mind. He wishes the curse upon himself to end. To end it he must have a head of one of the members of the ancient coven. I have agreed to attack the coven and retrieve it.

  From there my band of five set out for Riverwood to, hopefully, recover Jurgen's horn and learn what it is that Delphine is up to. Surprisingly, given my history in this land, we succeeded at both. It turns out that Delphine is a Blade! A living member of the old order of the Emperor's guard from before the great war, who has somehow escaped eradication by the Thalmor! As a boy I always wanted to join the Blades, and now I learn that I can assist their possible last member at doing what the Blades were originally formed to do: killing dragons.

  Delphine handed over the Horn, and revealed that, using the Dragon Stone, she was able to locate the ancient dragon burial mounds around Skyrim and not only prove that the dragons are returning not from another land, but from the dead, but also deduce where it is that the next dragon will appear in just a day or so. The map on the Stone has drawn her to Kynesgrove north of the Rift. I am to meet her there as soon as I can. First, though, I want to return the Horn to the Graybeards and complete my quest. We sleep in the carriage again tonight on our way to Riften.
 

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #20

---Heartfire, 16th, 4E 201---

  Ustengrav, the burial chamber which was said to house Jurgen Windcaller's tomb and horn, was much larger than I thought, going deep underground, built into a large natural chamber. There was a Word Wall in this cavern, near a beautiful underground lake. Now, with it, I can become ethereal, like a spirit, for a few seconds at a time, though the magic does not seem to allow me to pass through objects larger than myself, including most walls. Still, it will be useful to avoid the enemy's weapons in combat long enough to recover my strength.

  Fighting through the tomb wasn't too difficult, though we did encounter more giant spiders, which Odvar, Mjoll, Barbas and my arrows were able to handle. The size of the tomb was such that the expedition took the entire day. It was fruitless, however, as we did not find Jurgen Windcaller's horn inside, but a letter from "a friend" placed upon his tomb stating that they have the horn, and directing us to the "attic room" of the inn in Riverwood. An inn with no attic. Clearly it is Delphine who took the horn as a means of drawing the Dragonborn to her, but for what reason? Who could the secretive barmaiden be?

  This new develoement complicates things a bit, but our plans remain mostly the same. Tomorrow we recover Grimsever, and then we make our way to Solitude where we'll sell off some of our loot, I'll do some crafting practice and repair my gear, and we'll eventually take a carriage to Whiterun to turn in the Silver Hand bounty to Aela. After that it's on to Riverwood to meet with this "mysterious friend", and discover once and for all who she is and what she is up to. Afterwards I would like to make way to Riften to inform the priestess that we have carried out another of Mara's tasks, but something tells me that fate has other ideas.

 

---Heartfire, 18th, 4E 201---

 

  We ended up passing through Morthal again, and staying the night in the inn there. This time the stay was without any incident, and quite enjoyable. This morning we set out for Solitude, and on the way we discovered a cabin in the forest south of the city on the cliff where a Nord had recently fallen to disease, leaving his faithful dog, Meeko, behind. Though the man's journal stated that the dog can feed and fend for himself, I could not bring myself to leave him there alone. Besides, he annoys Barbas and Odvar. For that reason alone I will likely never let him leave my side.

  Solitude is a beautiful city. All of the tales do it little justice, and I will certainly look forward to returning here often on my travels, despite the fact that my first impression of the city was an execution. It is the people of Solitude who tarnish the city façade. Many of them are pompous and entitled. The Jarl, the wife of the late High King, seems nice enough though. Next time I am in town I will see if there is anything that I can do to help the court.

  Even though the inn seems nice, my friends and I have decided to sleep in the carriage tonight on the way to Whiterun. We are too far behind schedule as it is already. We need to recover some time.

  Before coming into Morthal last night, we did successfully delve into the Dwemer ruin where Mjoll lost Grimsever, and we recovered the sword. The constructs within the ruin were difficult opponents, but still weak compared to the Briarhearts, the strength of which are still fresh in my memory. Working together we tore through the ancient machines. Mjoll was always at my side, her axe swinging gleefully. I have come to find real comfort in her presence. Her voice. Her slightly insane smile. Her many stories. She has quickly become my best friend. I will be sad to see her go when we return again to Riften and she remains behind.

  After finding Grimsever, I can see why Mjoll cherishes it. It is an expertly crafted Glass Greatsword with a moderately strong frost enchantment on it. While its edge is a bit dull, it is a deadly weapon, almost a heavier antithesis to my fiery blade Goldbrand, just one more similarity between myself and Mjoll. She is a true kindred spirit. To put it simply, I can understand why Mjoll would risk harm to recover such a weapon. Of course as I write this I realize that I would risk greater harm, alone, to recover far less for the woman.

 



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #19

---Heartfire, 13th, 4E 201---

  Today I found the tower hideout of the Forsworn who stole Lisbet's Dibella statue, something that I had offered to recover for her when I first met her in her shop in Markarth square. I found the statue, and then I remembered that Lisbet is dead. She was one of the cannibals at Narmina's shrine. I left the statue, unable to touch it. The more I think on it, the more I doubt I will ever return to Markarth. The place can sort out its own problems. The Forsworn, however, have officially made an enemy of me. They attack travelers on sight, and are no better than Bandits.

  At the Forsworn camp, in the tallest standing tower where the treasures were stored, the four of us encountered another of those men with the briars for hearts. He overpowered me easily with a combination of brute force and cold magic so strong that it overcame my Nord blood. It took all four of us to bring him down without serious incident.

  The benefit of an early start, we were able to continue on (after copious restoration magic, of course) to the nearby Silver Hand camp and slay them all. I took them in beast form, defeating them with ease. The others had little to do. This group had no fragment of Wuthraad, but I think Aela will be just as pleased as I to hear that another band of the bastards are gone from Nirn.

  We head next to Morthal where we will stay the night and prepare to set out tomorrow to recover Jurgen Windcaller's horn and Mjoll's lost sword Grimsever, that is unless something occurs in Morthal which requires our attention, as has become the pattern of late.
 

---Heartfire, 15th, 4E 201---

  Morthal quickly became more than a short stop on our journey. While looking for a shop at which to restock supplies, I took notice of a burned house between the inn and the Jarl's longhouse. I inquired about the house, because apparently I cannot help myself. Soon the four of us were caught up in another murder mystery. A local man lost his wife and daughter in the fire, and then pledged himself the next day to a local woman, Alva, and so he was accused of lighting the fire himself. The Jarl, Idgrod Ravencrone, didn't believe this to be true, however, and asked us to look into it.

  It turns out that Alva had been recently turned into a vampire by a Master Vampire, Morvath, living in a nearby cave. As part of a plan to enthrall the town, Alva caused these events to occur. Guided by the ghost of the dead little girl, we defeated Alva and Morvath and avenged the deaths. Morthal should be safe, for now, provided that no more of those horrible giant spiders are nearby. On our way here we were set upon by four on the road, and there were two more waiting in Morvath's lair. Add Hjaalmarch to the list of regions that I will not be returning to without great reason, I suppose.

  Worse, yet still more welcome than spiders, was the dragon that attacked the town last night. It was another of those pale and spiny Frost Dragons, and the fight against it was long and difficult, but we prevailed. Only one town guard fell in the course of the battle, and I was rewarded with the title of Thane and a new steel blade for my heroism. After all that happened, though, we will have to stay here tonight, putting us three days behind schedule.

  I recovered a strange ring from Morvath. It seems to be vampiric in nature, so I am hesitant to use it myself or give it to one of the others, but I have a strange feeling that I should hold on to it for the time being.

The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #18

---Heartfire, 12th, 4E 201---

  I succeeded in convincing Eola that I was willing to join her cannibalistic cult. With the help of Priest Varuvius from the Hall of the Dead, who was intended to be the "main course" at my initiation party, I got all of the cultists together. I was shocked by who I found seated in that cavern. The man who works the stables, the nice girl who runs the general store, and the town butcher were among them! Enraged, I struck them all down. Mjoll was proud of me. I think she worried that due to my beast side I would be tempted to go through with the macabre ritual, but in fact it was my experience resisting the pull of the beast which helped me resist Namira's call.

  On our way back into town we overheard some miners from a gold mine up the road telling their fellows at the mine outside of the city that they had been attacked by Forsworn. I agreed to clear the Forsworn from the mine, expecting to be able to rout them with ease, but once there I found a surprise waiting. Leading the tribal clan was a man of impressive stature with a scar in his chest, as if someone had cut into his heart. While Odvar, Barbas and Mjoll dispatched with the Forsworn themselves, I attacked this man. I swung Goldbrand, but it barely nicked the man's skin. He retaliated with a frostbite spell which I only survived thanks to my Nord blood. 

  I countered with a strike of my shield, but the man didn't staggar. Desperately I shouted Fus Ro at the man. He was toppled long enough for me to strike a decisive blow, but I still would have lost the fight once he regained his footing had Odvar not stepped up to aid me. Now I understand the danger of these Forsworn. They are murderers, and they have the power to transform themselves into some of the most powerful warriors that I've ever seen, it would seem by removing their hearts and replacing them with a strange magical plant briar. The issue of the dragon's, however, takes precident over these Forsworn, and so my party and I set out again tomorrow to continue our journey.

  I will be happy to leave the Reach behind. While Markarth is impressive, and the mountianous terrain is impressive just as well, I have accumulated too many depressing memories in this place to enjoy it any longer.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #17

---Heartfire, 11th, 4E 201---

  I helped the couple in Markarth to find each other. It was as simple as getting the two to open up. I feel that these missions from Mara are teaching me a lesson. First I helped a girl to realize her true feelings, and then I helped a man learn to open up and express his feelings.

  Also in Markarth today, in the Hall of the Dead, while helping the priest, I met a woman named Eola who freely admitted to being a cannibal in the Cult of Namira, one of the more dspicable Deadric Lords. She could sense somehow that I had tasted human blood and flesh, though she did not realize that it was during combat in my beast form, and so she assumed me to be a cannibal as well and elicited my help. I have decided to play along long enough to discover and expose the entire cult for what it is. Hopefully, by tomorrow night, there will be no Cult of Namira in Skyrim.

  I have, in fact, already carried out one task for Eola and cleared the barrow housing Namira's shrine of Draugr. The shrine itself was terrifying. It is not a shrine, but an altar resembling a table, and it is placed in a room set up as a feast hall. Just the thought makes me shudder. I will sleep easier once this cult is abolished. I may not actually, in fact, get any sleep tonight thanks to what I saw, and if I do sleep, I'm sure that that sleep will be filled with nightmares.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #16

--Heartfire, 10th, 4E 201---

  On our way back to Falkreath, the four of us discovered Pinewatch, an old hunters' lodge infested by Bandits, with a path in the basement leading to a Bandit's den in an old, partially callapsed Nordic Ruin. We cleared it out in less than an hour, and proceded to Falkreath and took the carriage to Markarth, arriving after eight in the evening. My first impression of the retrofitted Dwemer city was that it is quite magnificent and grand. My second was not quite so positive.

  Upon entering the city, I witnessed a man in miner's clothes attacking a local woman. I drew Goldbrand and struck quickly, my beastly instincts helping to speed my blade, and struck the assailant down in time to save the woman. I heard someone say something about the Forsworn, before the guard approached and drove everyone away. A young man then approached me and slipped me a note. I haven't decided if I will read it or not. I have heard of the Forsworn. They truly seem to be madmen and criminals, and I do not want to get involved in the conflict with them.

  Markarth seems to be a mixed bag. There are many people here who seem to enjoy living in the city, and yet just as many who find the city corrupt. Just from what I have overheard of the local chatter, the Silver-Bloods, the family which owns the mine, seems to be as controvertial a group as the Black-Briars of Riften. That taken with the fact of the attack, and it paints a suspicious picture, one which I don't want to become a part of just yet, if ever.

  I also heard rumors that the local Hall of the Dead has been shut down. Out of little more than curiosity, I will inquire about it tomorrow. Both the Hall and the workplace of the man we are here to see for Mara are located in the Keep, so I might as well.



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #15

---Heartfire, 8th, 4E 201---

  On a whim, Mjoll and I decided that we should take a detour over the mountain, dragging a reluctant Odvar and Barbas along with us. Mjoll and I think very much alike sometimes. Our detour took us to a dragon peak, where we defeated another of the beasts, and I learned a word which tames and controls animals, much as Spriggans do. Speaking of Spriggans, we also managed to save the survivor of a group of hunters from Falkreath who were attacked by the creatures in a cave. The survivor, Valdir, gave me his favorite dagger as thanks. I carry it in my boot even now.

  We reached Helgen after dark. I entered through the main gate, and was immediately accosted by a lookout, who insisted that he knew no Valerius, and who called many of his men to surround me, only to find that Odvar, Mjoll and Barbas had come through the opposite gate to flank them. This gave me a chance to explain my case and show them the ring that Marcus gave me to prove our intentions. As it turns out, Marcus was correct, his friend Valerius is in fact the Bandit Val. He has asked us to return to the Dead Man's Drink and invite Marcus to Helgen for an audience. We will camp here tonight, within the walls, and set out tomorrow with the sunrise.
 

---Heartfire, 9th, 4E 201---

  Once again I write from our camp within the walls of Helgen. Upon our return to Falkreath, Marcus asked us to escort him back. We did, a task which took the entire day. It turns out that Marcus was a frequent visitor to Helgen during his youth, and wants to see the city restored. He's looking for Valerius' help in rebuilding the city, and possibly mine as well. He has decided to remain here with Valerius and try to convince him to help. In the mean time Mjoll, Odvar, Barbas and I will continue our journey west. We've lost several days, so we will likely go by carriage to save time.

 



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #14

---Heartfire, 6th, 4E 201---

  I met with Marcus Jannis today in Falkreath. In all the excitement of yesterday, it slipped my mind to write that the man's personal messenger found me in Whiterun with a letter from Marcus asking to speak to me about Helgen. He thinks that a man named Valerius, a freedom fighter who opposes the Thalmor, has taken up residence in the ruins of the city, he and his men posing as Bandits and he himself living under the alias Val. Marcus gave me tokens to prove my good will and has asked me to return to the forsaken city and speak to Val for him.

  I must say, I am reluctant to return, but this man lost family in the dragon attack. I think I must help him, to atone for the fact that I could do nothing on that day. First, though, I want to go see about the man in the Falkreath jail who is said to have torn a girl apart like an animal. There is something about the story which demands my attention. Could this man be a werewolf who has gone mad or feral, and if so, can I help him to become a man again? I will go to see him in the morning and find out.

  I brought down another dragon today when it attacked Falkreath, this time a cold white and gray dragon with black spikes running the length of its spine. It only breathed cold, and so Mjoll, Odvar and I, and many of the guards, were able to withstand its breath quite well thanks to our Nordic blood. However, this dragon was tougher than the others. As more dragons appear, will they keep getting stronger?
 

---Heartfire, 7th, 4E 201---

  I was right. The man in the jail, named Sinding, is one who has the power of the beast, but lost himself to it. He stole the Ring of Hircine to try to control his transformations, but the hunter Daedra cursed the ring as punishment so that, instead of helping Sinding, the ring made him more wild. It was Hircine, not Sinding, who caused the death of the girl. I agreed to take the ring from Sinding and go hunting through Falkreath Hold for Hircine's aspect so that I might earn an audience with the Prince himself and reverse the curse.

  Hircine ordered me to go to Bloated Man's Grotto, Sinding's sanctuary, and join some of Hircine's other hunter-followers and kill him. I defied the Daedra and turned into the beast, helping Hircine to slay the hunters instead. Hircine was amused by this, saying that I had "turned the hunt upside down". He cleansed the curse from the ring. I tried to return it to Sinding, but he has decided to live away from people in the Grotto. I worry though that Sinding might be too far gone. What if he runs out of prey here? Whiterun and Oakdale are both not too far away. However, Sinding is a man still, and deserves the chance to live, as any man does. After a vote, Mjoll, Odvar and I (Barbas doesn't get to vote, as he doesn't seem to mind killing much of anything) have decided to give him that chance.

  We sleep here tonight, and then we head to Helgen to speak with Valerius before continuing on our journey.

 



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #13

---Heartfire, 4th, 4E 201---

  It's right about noon. Yesterday, on the way into Riften, the three of us encountered a dragon. It fought us on the road, and thanks to the help of a traveling mage and her dog, and some patroling guards, we brought it down after only a few hours. Needless to say, though, it slowed us down, and we were forced to walk through the night, reaching Riften by four this morning. Rather than get the cart to Whiterun immediately, we took advantage of our second wind and did some crafting and some training. My work in Enchanting and Conjuration is coming along well.

  We also got our next mission from Mara. It will take us all the way to Markarth. Between this and a rumor of a strange man in Falkreath's jail, the three of us (yes, Mjoll intends to accompany us further, something which I must admit I find exciting) have decided to travel once around Skyrim's western border and up to the barrow which houses Windcaller's horn, and then to the ruin where Mjoll lost her favorite sword. She's finally told me the full story of its loss, and I've offered to help her retrieve it.

  But first, to Whiterun, to return the fragment of Wuthraad to its proper place, and to learn if Aela knows any more of the Silver Hand and its movements.

---Heartfire, 5th, 4E 201---

  We arrived in Falreath this afternoon and immediately I was offered a chance to assist one of the townspeople. The blacksmith, Lod, is looking for companionship for he and his young Cyrodiilic apprentice. He has often seen a stray dog on the road and asked if I might go out to the road and try to attract it. I agreed, and I found the dog rather quickly, but to my surprise it talked! The dog claims to be Barbas, the conscience, if you will, of the Daedric Prince of Wishes, Clavicus Vile, who is greatly weakened without Barbas at his side. Barbas asked me to accompany him to Vile's nearest shrine and reunite him with his master. Normally I would want nothing to do with this vicious a Daedric creature, but I was curious, and Vile is, if Barbas speaks the truth, weakened.

  Barbas led us past Helgen and into the mountains into a cave infested with Vampires. They showed no interest in us, but attacked Barbas on sight. More and more I realize that Vile does not want Barbas back. Barbas is naïve, overlooking the evil acts of his beloved master as any dog would.

  I think that, after finding such independence, Barbas reuniting with Vile might weaken him even further. Vile himself practically admitted to this by implying that he wants Barbas dead. So, when Vile offered me a quest to convince him to take Barbas back, I agreed to take the quest, and to take Barbas with me, but I have no intention of returning. Instead, and despite how annoying the talking dog might be, I hope to befriend Barbas and, hopefully, cripple an evil Daedra forever.

  Tomorrow the four of us return to Falkreath to learn what other opportunities it might hold for us, and to tell Lod that he should look for another dog. This one isn't worth his trouble.

 



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #12

---Hearthfire, 2nd, 4E 201---

  Today was an enlightening day. We helped Fastred to realize that she had already found the love she sought, and I made friends with some of the local townspeople, including the innkeeper, who has asked me to investigate the barrow near the town, and Klimmek, Fastred's love, who often travels up the Throat of the World and was able to inform me of some of the more common dangers. Despite this the way was hard, cold, and miserable. Even under a fur cloak I felt the air bite more than once. Mjoll, Odvar and I were forced to repell bears, an Ice Wraith, and a particularly angry Frost Troll, but none were a match for us in the end, and the harsh conditions soon proved to be the greater enemy.

  On the way up the mountain, I read each of ten tablets which are placed in alcoves spaced along the path. From them I learned a bit about the Dragon War, and the founding of the Greybeards, but I wish to do some more research before writing too much here, as all is still not clear to me. From the tablets and the words of the Greybeards themselves, I do know that the Greybeards were founded by an ancient Voice User named Jurgen Windcaller, that the power to use the voice comes from Kyne, or Kynareth, and that my natural ability comes from the blessing of Dragon Blood bestowed upon select few mortals by the Time Dragon, Akatosh, in times of great need.

  I have to wonder, though, out of everyone alive, if the world needs a Dragonborn, why me? Why was I chosen? The last Dragonborn to be chosen by Akatosh was Talos himself, and I am certainly not the great hero that he was. The Greybeards say that they do not know why I was chosen at this time, but that it certainly has something to do with the dragons' return.

  The Greybeards also explained my powers to me. As I guessed, the words that I speak to Shout are in the language of dragons, and the more words I learn the more Shouts I can perform. As Dragonborn I can share knowledge with other Voice Users, or, in the case of dragons, I can take their souls into myself to learn something about a word and come to understand it that way. The Greaybeards taught me more as well. Firstly, that Words of Power come in three parts, and for each part that one knows, the spell becomes stronger. They taught me the second word of the force Shout that I have known since the Watchtower, a Shout that they call Unrelenting Force. They also taught me one word of a Shout called Whirlwind Sprint, which allows me to surge forward several yards all at once.

  To prove myself fully the Greybeards have sent me to recover Jurgen Windcaller's horn from his resting place in a distant burial cairn. I will sleep here in High Hrothgar tonight, check the barrow in town tomorrow morning, head to Riften to receive the second task from Mara, and then take the carriage to Whiterun to give the fragment of Wuthraad to Aela. From there I'm not sure. I'd like to go on to complete the task assigned me today, but fate may have other plans for me.

 



The Last Dragonborn - The Journal of Johan Abbot #11

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

  On our way to the stronghold of the Silver Hand we encountered a green dragon much like the one that attacked the Western Watchtower. With the help of Mjoll and Odvar I managed to defeat it. I absorbed its soul, and learned the meaning of "Yol". Now I can breath balls of fire. Upon inspecting the Dragon's lair, I found another wall and now there is another word swimming in my head. I also discovered several corpses, burned and eaten by the dragon, and a strange crystal beacon which was too large for me to bring along.

  This battle took long enough that my friends and I have decided to camp below the dragon's perch tonight. I observed several ruins in the area, including one which seems to contain another Word Wall. Maybe I'll investigate them tomorrow after dispatching the Silver Hand and recovering any shards of Wuthraad that they might be hoarding.

---Last Seed, 30th, 4E 201---

  The Silver Hand were nothing, only six strong. They did have a fragment, though, which I recovered.

  After defeating the Silver Hand, Odvar, Mjoll and I journeyed up a nearby hill to the ruin with the Word Wall that I saw from the dragon's perch. An Imperial Captain, Captain Valmir, was stationed outside. He enlisted my help to retrieve a mask from the depths of the ruins, which used to be a stonghold of the ancient Dragon Cult. I'd all but forgotten the Cult. My knowledge of Dragon War lore is not substantial. I wonder if the Dragon Cult has anything to do with my powers, or the dragons' return?

  After a long-fought battle, my party and I worked our way through the ruin, deep into the crypts, and defeated the litch of the Dragon Priest whose mask the Captain wanted, and we took his mask from him. It is embued with a powerful enchantment, I can sense it. My senses have also told me since speaking with Valmir that there is something not right about him. Since when does a High Elf wear Imperial colors?

   We made our way out to the upper exterior level of the ruin, where I took in the word. When I think on this word, I see storm clouds, and it excites me. Then, after absorbing the powers of the wall, I observed Valmir, now dressed as a Stormcloak Officer, trying to convince a Stormcloak soldier to follow us in, as we were surely dead.

  When he saw me and realized that his deception was uncovered he attacked, and the Stormcloak stood with him, but they were quickly dispatched. I took a note from Valmir's body that contained orders from an unnamed entity to retrieve the mask and return it to the infamous ancient ruin of Labyrinthian. We've decided to sleep here tonight and head for Ivarstead in the morning. Maybe I'll take the mask to Labyrinthian myself some day and see if anything comes of it.

---Heartfire, 1st, 4E 201---

  I learned something about the Rift: it is all depressing. Its mountainous regions are impassable, and its forested regions are infested with Bandits, wolves, bears, and those horrible giant spiders. The walk to Ivarstead was long. I had to reveal my nature as a Werewolf to Mjoll when we were ambushed by a camp of Bandits. She is wary, but she believes me that I control the beast, and that the beast does not control me.

  Ivarstead itself is nice, however. Small, but quaint. It sits on a river, and it sees more traffic than most small towns, thanks to regular pilgrimages up the mountain to High Hrothgar. Tomorrow Mjoll and I will look around for the girl that Mara has sent us to help. I believe her name was Fastred. Meanwhile Odvar will, as he puts it, seek out a bottle of mead and help it into his stomach.